Chapter 1797

No.1

"Did you only remember me when Julian rejected you?" A bitter laugh escaped him. "Now that he wants you back, you're leaving me?"

Each word carried the sour tang of liquor against her face.

"Evelyn, are you really this cheap?"

Silence.

Then his voice dropped to a whisper: "Why... am I the cheap one?"

Her eyes flew open.

A flash of vulnerability vanished from his gaze.

No.2

"Perhaps..." She spoke softly. "We're truly incompatible."

Rage darkened Alexander's expression.

"Too late for that." He dragged her toward the bed. "Far too late."

Alexander Kingsley had shown Evelyn Sinclair with his actions that some boundaries, once crossed, could never be undone.

So what if it was wrong?

She was his now. There would be no escape for her.

......

No.3

At dawn, Evelyn slipped out of the hotel, her body aching.

She glanced back at Alexander, still asleep, his brow furrowed even in slumber.

Bending down, she gathered the torn remnants of her evening gown from the floor and changed into the casual clothes Eleanor Kingsley had given her the night before.

The click of the door handle echoed sharply in the silent room.

"Evelyn..."

Alexander's sleep-muffled voice froze her in place.

They were over.

No.4

Last night had been a mistake.

Whether he remembered or not, she would pretend it never happened.

Thankfully, he merely turned over and drifted back into sleep.

Evelyn fled into the elevator as if demons chased her.

......

Isabella Winslow stood trembling before the hotel room door, keycard clutched in her fingers.

She had rushed to the bar after William West's midnight message, only to find it empty.

No.5

Tracking Alexander down had led her here—to where Evelyn had been.

"After years of patience, don't ruin everything now," William's words replayed in her mind. "Follow my plan. There's still a chance."

The lock beeped as the card activated it.

The room was icy. Isabella shivered.

In the dim morning light, she saw the sharp profile of the man in bed.

Her pulse hammered wildly.

Fingers shaking, she began unbuttoning her blouse—then hesitated.

No.6

"What are you doing?"

His voice turned her blood to ice.

Alexander was awake.

Isabella stood paralyzed, nails digging into her palms.

Why was she always one step too late?

"You...you were exhausted last night," she forced a coy smile, cheeks flushing. "I didn't have the heart to wake you..."

Alexander's frown deepened.

No.7

He remembered Evelyn.

Fragmented memories filled with her.

"Who sent you?" His tone could cut steel.

"It was Evelyn..." Isabella fumbled for the keycard. "She said you were drunk—asked me to check on you..."

His expression darkened dangerously.

"Get out."