Chapter 989

The room held only two souls now, yet Evelyn could scarcely detect Preston's breathing.

Her lips pressed together. An unexpected sting prickled behind her nose.

She reached out, fingertips brushing his forehead. The heat radiating from his skin confirmed the fever.

As she withdrew her hand, strong fingers suddenly encircled hers.

Evelyn startled.

His grip burned with the same intensity as his elevated temperature.

"Are you awake?" she whispered, leaning closer.

Her voice carried delicate caution, as if speaking too loudly might shatter him.

Preston's lips parted painfully. His voice emerged rough as gravel. "Why are you here?"

Evelyn's eyes grew moist, too embarrassed to admit she'd noticed his absence when he stopped contacting her.

"I called," she murmured. "Oliver answered. Said you were burning up."

A weak smile tugged at Preston's cracked lips as he attempted reassurance. "Don't worry. I'm sorry for troubling you... though I can't deny being glad you came."

"I'm calling the doctor." Evelyn moved to stand, but Preston didn't protest, merely watching her with exhausted eyes.

He turned slightly, eyelids fluttering shut as if the simple act required tremendous effort. Though she already suspected the answer, Evelyn demanded, "Who did this to you?"

Preston struggled to focus. His gaze softened with affection. "It's nothing. Just someone acting in anger—"

"Anger doesn't excuse violence!" Evelyn snapped. "You're not some punching bag! Tell me who!"

Conflict twisted Preston's features.

Evelyn stood abruptly. "How many enemies do you have here? Nathan or Isaiah? I'll confront them both—"

"Evelyn." Preston's hoarse plea stopped her. His illness-weakened grip tightened slightly around her wrist.

"Mr. Blackwood showed restraint. I'll recover."

Evelyn trembled with sudden fury. "What right did he have? The man's completely unhinged!" Had Nathan discarded all decency?

Preston's exhausted eyes sparkled faintly. "Your concern touches me, but I sought him out. He's never liked me—I expected consequences."

The lengthy speech triggered dry coughing. Evelyn immediately supported him, gently patting his back.

"Why would you go to him?"

"Because Isaiah would have," Preston rasped. "I couldn't risk him discovering us."

Evelyn frowned. "Why?"

Their relationship remained private by mutual agreement, but she saw no harm in others knowing.

Preston's pale face darkened momentarily. "Because his hatred for me would make you a tool. You don't know Isaiah—the depths he'll sink to. I couldn't take that chance."

Evelyn fell silent.

She trusted Preston's judgment, yet guilt coiled in her chest. Ultimately, he'd suffered because of her.

"Don't worry about me," she finally said. "No one dares cross me on my turf."

But Preston remained quiet, knowing Evelyn couldn't comprehend Isaiah's ruthlessness. Normal logic didn't apply to such twisted minds.

Evelyn checked her watch. "The doctor's almost here. Let me get ice for your face."

Preston nodded, watching her bustling concern with quiet satisfaction.

A deep, secret smile curved his lips.

Every bruise had been worth it.