Chapter 1015
No.1
For the first time, he realized how unfamiliar Evelyn looked without her usual white attire. Starlight danced in her eyes, her smile bright and vivid—nothing like the subdued shadow from his memories.
Alexander remained motionless until Evelyn bid her colleague goodbye. Only then did he take a slow step forward.
A silver Maserati abruptly cut between them.
"Julian? What are you doing here so late—"
"Just passing by," Julian Ashford interrupted. "Need to inspect the new place."
......
The flickering hallway light of the rundown apartment complex cast uneven shadows.
No.2
Julian frowned at the peeling paint on the walls. The moment the door opened, the musty smell hit him like a wave.
"Just needs some airing out," Evelyn said quickly.
The tiny studio apartment was painfully bare—yellowed bedsheets, a peeling wardrobe, a grease-stained stove on the balcony. A broken tile in the bathroom exposed the dark concrete beneath.
Julian's chest tightened.
The Sinclair heiress, reduced to this.
Clang!
The wardrobe door suddenly crashed down, barely hanging on by its last screw. Evelyn hurriedly pulled out a toolkit. "I found a tutorial online, I can—"
No.3
Her words cut off.
Julian seized her wrist. The once-delicate fingers were now marred with angry purple blisters.
"First time fixing things..." She tried to pull away.
He snatched the toolkit from her.
Julian ducked into the wardrobe, clumsily adjusting the hinges. Evelyn hovered close, warning, "Careful, the door's heavy—"
"Screwdriver."
"Hold this steady."
No.4
The Ashford heir, now kneeling in a musty wardrobe, his white shirt smeared with dust. But seeing the sparkle in Evelyn's eyes, he suddenly thought it was worth it.
"You're amazing!" she cheered as the door finally settled back into place.
Julian tapped the rusted hinge with a wrench. "Only for you..."
"Hmm?"
"I said," he swallowed, "I've had enough of being the 'nice guy.'"
Evelyn was about to laugh—
Crack!
No.5
The sound of splintering wood exploded through the room. Julian's right leg plunged straight through the bottom of the wardrobe, sending him lurching forward.
She reached out to steady him.
A dark figure suddenly stepped between them.
Alexander coldly separated the two, slamming the wardrobe door shut with a sharp bang.
"Alexander?" Evelyn's pupils constricted violently, the screwdriver slipping from her fingers with a clatter.
She never expected to encounter him here.
The man snatched up the tool, deftly jamming the cabinet handle beyond repair within seconds.
No.6
"What are you doing? There's someone inside!" She lunged for the screwdriver.
Alexander seized her wrist with bone-crushing force, hurling her onto the bed.
"How long have you been planning this?" His voice was glacial, eyes dark with barely restrained violence. "With Julian Ashford."
Evelyn froze.
She couldn't comprehend his accusation.
Her apparent confusion only deepened the storm in his gaze.
"Fabricating scandals about Isabella and me to clear the path for your beloved senior?" He caged her beneath him, his breath hot against her face. "Impressive tactics, Miss Duan."
No.7
His proximity allowed her to study every detail—the furrow between his brows, the sharp angles of his phoenix eyes, the undisguised fury twisting his handsome features.
What once would have terrified her now left her numb.
A humorless laugh escaped her lips. "Fabricated? You overestimate me, Mr. Kingsley."
She reached for her bag, flinging a stack of photographs at him.
"Seven years ago. The Autumn Detail rooftop. You embracing Isabella."
"Her birthday gala. Your arm around her waist."