Chapter 66 Fault Lines
When Evelyn stepped out of the restroom, her expression was back to composed.
Her lips were curved into a slight smile, but her eyes gave her away. They were guarded and distant.
Roman saw it immediately. He panicked slightly.
He excused himself from Caspian mid-conversation and crossed the floor toward her.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
“I’m fine,” she replied just as quietly.
He studied her for half a second longer, then nodded once.
“Hold on a little. I’ll tell Uncle we’re leaving.”
She didn’t argue.
Roman returned to Caspian, said something brief and polite. Caspian looked mildly surprised but didn’t stop him. Within a minute, Roman was back at her side.
“Let’s go.”
They walked toward the grand exit together.
Eyes followed them as they left, with some whispering behind.
A few guests subtly lifted their phones, pretending to check messages while angling for photos.
Roman noticed, but he didn’t care.
Evelyn's heels clicked against the marble floor sharply.
She didn’t wait for him to guide her or hold her waist.
When his fingers brushed her hand, she pulled away without looking at him.
Roman frowned.
“Evelyn—”
She kept walking.
Her steps grew quicker, frustration simmering just beneath her skin. The ballroom doors opened, cool night air brushing against her flushed face as she stepped outside onto the polished stone staircase.
“Evelyn.”
Roman called firmly.
She didn’t stop. Just as she took her next step, her heel caught in a small gap between the stone tiles.
Her ankle twisted sharply to the side.
“Ahhh—!”
The cry tore out of her before she could stop it.
Her body lurched forward.
Pain shot up her leg instantly, white and blinding.
She stumbled, barely managing to keep herself from falling completely as she grabbed the railing.
Roman’s heart dropped.
He reached her in seconds.
“Evelyn!”
She sucked in a shaky breath, her face scrunched up in pain. Her hand instinctively went to her ankle.
“I—” Her voice trembled. “I can’t…”
Her ankle was already swelling, a faint angry redness spreading beneath the delicate strap of her gold heel.
Roman crouched down immediately in front of her, not caring about the stares, the cameras, the elite guests stepping outside.
“Don’t move,” he said sharply.
His fingers were careful as he slid the heel off her foot.
The moment he touched her ankle, she winced.
“It hurts,” she whispered, her anger completely gone now, replaced by vulnerability.
Roman’s jaw tightened.
Without hesitation, he slipped one arm behind her knees and the other around her back, and lifted her.
A small gasp escaped her lips as her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck.
“Roman—” she started.
“Quiet,” he muttered, already striding toward the car waiting at the curb.
The valet in charge of the car hurried to open it.
Roman carefully placed her inside, kneeling slightly to examine her ankle again under the soft interior light.
It was swelling fast.
His expression darkened.
“We’re going to the hospital. No—”
Roman shook his head almost immediately, correcting himself.
“I have a really good ointment we can use.”
His tone shifted decisively. “Let’s go back to the villa.”
His jaw clenched as he spoke.
As much as he wanted to take her to the hospital for a full checkup, he was a doctor himself. Orthopedics wasn’t his specialty, but this? A twisted ankle? He could handle it.
And more than that, he didn’t want to take her to a hospital tonight.
Not when she was already emotionally stirred. He didn't want to stimulate her further.
He couldn’t risk worsening whatever storm was brewing inside her.
Evelyn hissed when he adjusted her leg gently into the car.
He shut the door, walked around quickly, and slid into the driver’s seat.
The engine started.
The vehicle pulled smoothly away from the venue.
Inside the quiet car, Evelyn stared down at her lap.
Roman kept glancing at her ankle every few seconds as he drove, as if it had personally offended him.
Then, quietly, he asked.
“Why didn’t you let me hold you?”
Her fingers tightened in the fabric of her dress.
After a long pause, she finally spoke.
“Who is Victoria?”
The air in the car shifted.
Roman’s grip on the steering wheel tightened just slightly.
“I’ll tell you once we get back home,” he said quietly.
Evelyn let out a soft scoff, turning her face toward the window.
She didn’t speak again.
Neither did he.
Outside, city lights blurred past the window.
The silence between them wasn’t loud.
It was heavy.
—
By the time they arrived at the villa, Roman was already out of the car before the engine fully died.
He opened her door and lifted her without a word.
Evelyn wrapped her arms around his shoulders for balance.
But she refused to look at him.
He noticed, but said nothing.
Inside, he set her down gently on the sofa.
“Stay put.”
He disappeared down the hallway and returned within a minute, a small tube in his hand.
Evelyn frowned faintly.
‘Why does he always have medical supplies ready?’
‘Yes, he used to be a doctor.’
‘But still…’
Before she could question it, she felt something warm spread over her ankle.
She hissed immediately.
Roman was already crouched in front of her, sleeves rolled up, carefully applying ointment.
“It’s okay,” he murmured.
His fingers moved slowly, massaging the area with just enough pressure.
“Thankfully, it’s not a serious sprain. Just a twist. The ligaments aren’t torn.” He said calmly.
When he finished, he grabbed a pillow and lifted her leg gently onto it.
“Keep it elevated.”
If this were any other day, Evelyn’s heart would’ve fluttered at how attentive he was.
But tonight, another thought plagued her mind strongly.
“Roman,” she said quietly, “who is Victoria?”
He exhaled slowly and stood up, removing his suit jacket. He rolled up his sleeves further, buying himself a second.
“You won’t even look at me when you ask me something now?”
She kept her gaze fixed forward.
“Roman, you don’t get to be angry. I’m the one who should be angry.”
“And see where that got you,” he replied sharply, gesturing toward her ankle.
The words hit her.
Evelyn stiffened.
“So now it’s my fault?”
She pushed herself up slightly on one foot.
“Fine! If you don’t want to tell me, then don’t! Just don’t upset me more than I already am!”
“What do you think you’re doing?” Roman snapped, grabbing her shoulders and pressing her back down gently but firmly.
“Sit down.”
He got slightly frustrated.
“Evelyn, stop behaving like a child and look at me when you ask me a question.”
Her breath hitched.
Roman never raised his voice at her. Not like this.
Slowly, she turned.
Her eyes were watery now.
“Well what did you expect?” she shot back, voice trembling. “You married someone younger than you! What did you think I would act like?!”
The words came out cracked and raw.
Roman went still.
For a second, he just looked at her. Her trembling lips, and the tears she was fighting so hard not to let fall.
His chest tightened.
He let out a soft, disbelieving laugh.
He cupped her face gently and wiped the tears that escaped anyway.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured.
He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers.
“I’m sorry.”
She tried to turn her face away stubbornly, but he held her gently in place.
“Evelyn, listen to me.”
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
“I’m not mad that you asked.”
His voice softened.
“I’m mad that you think I would betray you.”
He pulled back just enough to look at her properly.
“Evelyn, I will never cheat on you.” He said quietly, but firmly.
Her heart skipped at the way he said it.
There was no hesitation.
“And Victoria— she’s—”
The front door burst open, startling both of them.
They turned sharply, to find Leo standing in the doorway, breathing hard.
His face was pale, and he looked panicked.
Evelyn had never seen him like that before.
“Young master,” Leo said urgently, voice strained.
“There’s an emergency with the old master.”