Chapter 304

"The Crown Prince is clearly on your side." Martha Nash's excited voice carried through the phone. "He went straight to back up Vincent Sullivan. You should've seen Hugo Lee's face—looked like he'd swallowed a fly..."

Evelyn Sinclair was about to respond when Martha suddenly lowered her voice. "The juiciest part? Hugo got beaten up!"

"Expected." Evelyn scoffed.

If it were her, anyone who dared harm her child would find their bones rearranged.

"You didn't see it," Martha continued dramatically. "When Hugo stumbled out of Julian Ashford's office, he was limping with two black eyes and half his face swollen like a balloon..."

Evelyn arched a brow. "Vincent can fight that well?"

"Oh please!" Martha cackled. "The Crown Prince pretended to mediate but kept aiming for Hugo. Tsk, what a scene..."

Evelyn fell silent.

"By the way, why'd you take leave today?" Martha abruptly changed subjects. "Avoiding the fallout?"

"Mhm. Laying low." Evelyn evaded. "Yesterday was exhausting."

"Rumor says everyone on the video team guessed the truth, but Hugo and Xavier Stapleton paid them off?" Martha pressed.

"Basically."

"That bastard Xavier—was he still trying to get to you?" Martha's tone sharpened.

"He tried," Evelyn said flatly. "Didn't succeed though..."

Hanging up, Evelyn glanced down at Alexander Kingsley. His breathing was even, but he occupied only a sliver of the bed's edge, as if poised to fall.

She started shifting away when an arm suddenly tightened around her.

"Don't move." Alexander's sleep-roughened voice murmured. "Let me stay like this a while longer."

"I'll take the sofa—"

Her protest died as his leg pinned hers.

"How am I supposed to rest if you leave?" He lifted his head, eyes hazy, cheeks flushed unnaturally. "I actually slept just now."

His sincerity gave her pause.

"Evelyn..." He suddenly rasped. "I'm thirsty."

She reached for the bedside water glass. "Need help sitting up?"

"Can't you feed me?" His gaze darkened.

Evelyn nearly checked his forehead for fever.

Seeing her hesitation, Alexander pushed upright and took two measured sips before setting the glass down.

"Done."

Before she could react, he flipped her onto the mattress.

"Alexander!" Freshly free from Madeline Kingsley's shadow, this was the last thing she expected. "Stop!"

"Know why I'm sick?" His voice scraped like gravel.

Evelyn held her breath.

"Five cold showers. Soaked to the bone." His hungry stare traced her face. "Pathetic, right?"

It was.

Since she left, he'd been a ghost of himself.

Returning to the Kingsleys despite knowing it wouldn't change anything. Drinking Eleanor's suspicious soup despite the warning signs. Torturing himself despite her indifference.

"Evelyn, if I could let go, I would've by now." A bitter laugh escaped him. "Why can't I?"

Because some things cling like shadows.

"Get a grip," she turned her face away. "We're in a hosp—Ah!"

Sharp teeth grazed her neck.

"Alexander!" She thrashed violently.

"Remember what I said last time?" Madness threaded his words.

"What last time?"

"That hotel during your business trip..."

Memory struck—had Roman Young not knocked when he did...

"Not here. Anything else..." She conceded ground.

"Anything?" Alexander laughed hollowly. "More empty promises?"

"Then I won't even pretend now." Fury ignited in her. "Have you forgotten our agreement? I—"

A frantic knock interrupted.

"Evelyn! Are you both in there?" Patriarch Kingsley's voice boomed.

"Must be," came Victor Eaton's reply. "They were seen entering. Alex! Open up!"

Evelyn froze.

Had they overheard everything?

Including... the agreement?

Alexander abruptly released her, straightening his collar. "Get down."

His tone had iced over completely.

Blinking, Evelyn watched him slide back under the covers before composing herself to open the door.

"Evelyn, are you alright?" Patriarch Kingsley's concern was palpable.