Chapter 343
No.1
"Evelyn! Enough!" Alexander roared.
"Alexander!" Julian snarled back, "You dare defend Isabella in front of Evelyn, yet accuse me of spreading rumors?"
"Shut up!"
As the fight escalated, a small, trembling voice came from the doorway.
"Big sister... Alexander..."
Silence fell instantly.
Sophie sat in her wheelchair, pale-faced, eyes wide with terror.
No.2
"Sophie..." Evelyn immediately released Isabella and rushed to embrace her sister. "I'm so sorry we frightened you."
"Does your neck still hurt?" Sophie touched Evelyn's throat, tears welling up.
Outside, bodyguards dispersed the gathering crowd. Medical staff entered to assess the damage.
Isabella's face was swollen beyond recognition. Though bruised, Alexander and Julian each retained their signature demeanor—one icy, the other composed.
Only Evelyn's torn blouse revealed a glimpse of porcelain skin—and the lurid bruises marring her collarbone.
Alexander's expression darkened. He shrugged off his coat and draped it over her shoulders.
"Put this on," he ordered gruffly.
No.3
Evelyn flicked her fingers, letting the coat slide off her shoulders and land precisely in Alexander's arms.
Her lips curved into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Lord Alex, save your concern for those who need it more."
Alexander's gaze turned icy, his voice dangerously low. "Evelyn Sinclair, don't test my patience—"
"I wouldn't dare." She took half a step back. "Your generosity is too much for me to bear."
Once, she had been foolish enough to cherish even his cruelest gestures, treasuring the wounds as proof of love.
Now she saw them for what they were—faded, worthless scars, like cheap trinkets from a street vendor.
"Sophie." Evelyn turned to her sister in the hospital bed, her expression softening instantly. "Focus on getting better. Work's been busy, so I can't visit as often."
No.4
Though young, Sophie was perceptive. Evelyn didn't want her worrying and hindering her recovery.
Her fingers brushed the knit cap covering Sophie's bald head, a result of chemotherapy. "But I promise," she whispered, firm yet gentle, "no one will hurt you. No matter what schemes they plot—"
She paused meaningfully. "—my Sophie is the strongest, isn't she?"
In the hallway, Isabella clung to Alexander's sleeve, sobbing. "Alex, I arranged specialists for Sophie, and Evelyn hit me! She even implied I'd harm her sister. I know I shouldn't care, but it hurts..."
Evelyn's words were veiled, but the threat was clear: If anything happened to Sophie, someone would pay.
Alexander seized Evelyn's wrist. "You're coming with me."
As he dragged her away, Julian moved to intervene.
No.5
Alexander shot him a cold smirk. "Thought you cared about your sister? Let's see who fears death more."
Evelyn bit her lip and shook her head at Julian. Tonight had been messy enough.
Besides, it was time to settle things with Alexander.
The lights of Royal Gardens glared as curious servants peeked. He hauled her into the bedroom and locked the door.
"Take it off."
Before she could react, he ripped her collar open—
The bruises on her neck and shoulders stood stark under the harsh light.
No.6
Alexander gripped her wrist, scanning the injuries with a dark glare. "Explain."
"I fell."
Behind the casual reply echoed the screech of brakes from that night.
His laugh was cold. "Fell? Or let some man mark you?"
The yellowing bruises could've been from when she followed him.
Served her right.
Evelyn trembled—then laughed.
No.7
"Something funny?" He seized her chin. "Guilty?"
His fingers tightened. "Was it Julian? Or someone new?"
His hand slid to her waist, where the worst bruises were. She gasped in pain.
Alexander's eyes glinted. "Others can touch you, but I can't?"
Evelyn swallowed her tears, her smile self-mocking.
"Wait here, Lord Alex. I have something for you."
The sudden formality made him frown.