Chapter 155: Softening
Ryan’s voice was very low, holding a tenderness he only showed to this child. The vibration of his chest seemed to calm the small body in his arms. "The bad man is gone. No one can hurt you. Sleep now. I’m right here."
Miraculously, Elias’s struggling weakened. The boy’s hand instinctively grabbed Ryan’s shirt, smearing tears and mess onto the expensive fabric. He mumbled a faint "Daddy" before finally drifting into a peaceful sleep.
Evelyn slumped into a chair, watching how Ryan’s sharp features softened under the dim lamp. In that moment, the tension she had held for years finally snapped. She was used to carrying everything alone, but seeing this, a long-buried sense of reliance began to grow like wildfire.
Ryan laid the sleeping boy back on the bed and tucked him in before turning to Evelyn. "I need to make a call." Without further explanation, he grabbed his phone and stepped out.
In the smoking area at the end of the hall, Ryan lit a cigarette but didn't smoke it. He let the smoke curl around his fingers.
"Sir, we’ve intercepted it," the head of Group A reported over the phone. "Damian used a private lab. The samples were swapped the moment they arrived."
Ryan looked out at the dark night, his eyes turning cold. "Replace them with a complete mismatch. I want a negative report that can never be challenged. I want Damian Green to look at that paper and give up for good."
"Understood."
"And," Ryan flicked the ash. "What about the photos online?"
"We tracked them. It wasn't Mr. Green. It was the owner of M.X Design. You outshone them during the Fashion Week previews, and they wanted to ruin your reputation out of spite."
Ryan narrowed his eyes. So it wasn't Damian? If he told Evelyn the truth, it might lessen her hatred for Damian even by a fraction. Ryan wouldn't allow that.
"Gather the dirt on M.X Design. I want to hear they’re bankrupt by tomorrow morning," Ryan said, stubbing out the cigarette. "As for who was behind it... there's no need to tell Evelyn for now."
He was better at solving problems than explaining them.
When he returned to the room, the faint scent of food filled the air. Evelyn had used the time to go home for clothes and had used the hospital’s communal kitchen to make a quick meal.
"It’s not much," Evelyn said, gesturing to a container on the table. "Just pasta and some soup. Everything nearby is closed. You’ve been up all night, you should eat."
She didn't meet his eyes, pretending to fold Elias’s clothes. "Thank you... for stopping that report."
Ryan looked at the steaming pasta, the darkness in his eyes vanishing. He felt a sense of greed-like satisfaction. "Is this my payment?" He sat down and picked up a fork.
"In a way," Evelyn whispered. "I know this doesn't make up for your help. I’ll still pay the security fees."
"I don't want money." Ryan took a bite. The flavor was exactly as he remembered. "To me, this is worth more than a multi-million dollar check."
He ate slowly, his eyes never leaving her. The room was quiet. Evelyn felt restless under his intense gaze, her ears turning pink.
"Don't look at me like that," she finally said.
"I haven't seen you in four years. I want to see my fill." Ryan set the fork down, his tone uncomfortably direct. "Evelyn, you know what I’m thinking."
Evelyn stood up abruptly. "I’ll check the IV." She turned away, her heart beating like a drum. She was afraid that if she looked into his eyes for one more second, the walls she had built would come crashing down.
The next evening, Elias’s fever broke, and he was cleared to go home. After the ordeal, the little boy was incredibly clingy, refusing to leave Ryan’s arms.
The black Maybach pulled up smoothly at the apartment. Ryan carried the child with one arm while holding Evelyn’s bag with the other, escorting them to their door.
"We’re here." Evelyn took the sleeping Elias from his shoulder. "You should go home and rest. You’ve done a lot... thank you."
Ryan stood in the doorway. The hallway light flickered over his tall frame. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, and for the first time, his usual composure showed a crack of exhaustion. He had stubble on his chin, and his eyes were even more bloodshot than the day before.
"Evelyn," Ryan’s voice was raspy, carrying a hint of vulnerability. "I haven't slept in forty-eight hours."
Evelyn gripped the doorknob. "That’s why you should go home to bed."
"My place is an hour’s drive away, and it’s starting to rain again." Ryan leaned against the doorframe, his eyes dark. "What if I fall asleep behind the wheel?"
He was playing the sympathy card. If this were four years ago, Evelyn would have seen right through it. But now, after seeing everything he had done for her son, the refusal stayed stuck in her throat.
Ryan saw her hesitation and took half a step forward. "Could you let me stay for one night?" He leaned down, his warm breath hitting her forehead. "I’ll sleep on the sofa. I won't bother you. I’ll be gone at sunrise."
Evelyn looked into his eyes and felt her heart thud twice. She let go of the door and stepped aside.
"Only the sofa."