Chapter 101: The Rift Forms
Ryan glanced at the couple still locked in an embrace under the oak tree, then looked down at Evelyn, who was deathly pale and covered in cold sweat. His eyes instantly hardened. He said nothing, simply held her closer, and strode toward his black sedan parked nearby.
“Boss?” His assistant, Kevin, hesitated.
“Wipe all surveillance footage from this area,” Ryan ordered. “I don’t want anyone to know she or I were here.”
Kevin nodded immediately. “Understood.”
The car door closed, shielding them from the brutal scene on the field.
The smell of disinfectant reached Evelyn’s nose. She opened her eyes to a sterile white ceiling. She was in a spacious, bright hospital room, an IV drip in the back of her hand. The room was silent save for the quiet hum of machinery.
“Awake?”
Ryan, who was sitting by the window with a file, stood and walked toward her. He had taken off his jacket. His black shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up to reveal muscled forearms.
“I…” Evelyn abruptly sat up, frightened by the pulling sensation in her abdomen. She instinctively reached for her belly. Her throat felt dry.
Ryan poured a glass of warm water and held it to her lips. Evelyn drank a few sips before feeling slightly better.
“Relax,” Ryan said, tossing a document onto her nightstand. “The baby is fine.”
Evelyn grabbed the file. It was a detailed prenatal checkup report. The tiny gestational sac was clearly visible on the ultrasound image. The conclusion stated: Fetal vitals stable, but the mother showed signs of threatened miscarriage due to extreme emotional fluctuation and exhaustion, requiring bed rest.
Evelyn ran her finger over the small black and white photo. Her heart, which had been in her throat, finally eased.
“Stop letting that bastard mess with your emotions.” Ryan looked down at her, his voice edged with annoyance.
“Thank you…”
“I don’t need your thanks,” Ryan cut her off. “I didn’t help you just to watch you break yourself over some trash man. You let a man who used you as a substitute, abandoned you in the rain, and planned to give your child to his mistress, drive you to a miscarriage? Is that all you’ve got?” Ryan’s eyes were simmering with anger.
Evelyn was forced to meet his gaze. Her exhausted appearance—swollen eyes and bloodless lips—was reflected in his pupils.
“I didn’t…” Evelyn tried to argue, but found herself speechless. Her breakdown on the field was indeed because of Damian. That man had used the most vicious method to destroy the last trace of feeling she had for him.
“Didn’t?” Ryan stepped away. “Then tell me, why did you go to St. George High? To reminisce about your disgusting youth? Or to be an audience to their show?”
“He forced me,” Evelyn bit out. “He threatened the safety of Director Worth.”
“Threats only work because you are weak. Because all you have left is that pathetic past, and nothing else.” He sat back down. “Listen, Evelyn. Tears and dignity are the cheapest things in New York. You want to save this child? You want to make those two pay? Then stop doing stupid things like this.”
“I understand.” Evelyn gripped the report. Ryan was right; she couldn’t afford to be weak now.
“If you can’t even control your emotions, I doubt you can finish the menswear design series.” His tone lacked his usual lightheartedness, showing genuine displeasure.
“I have the ideas,” Evelyn looked up. “I can give you the sketches for the menswear series the day after tomorrow.”
“See that you do.” Ryan watched her composure return, and the coldness in his eyes slightly receded.
Just then, the door opened softly. Kevin walked in quickly, glanced at Evelyn, and leaned down to whisper a few words in Ryan’s ear.
“Prep the car immediately.” Ryan stood up, grabbing his jacket from the sofa with a swift, brisk motion. He paused at the door, looking back at Evelyn.
“I’ve paid the bill. This place is secure. Damian won’t find it. Rest well and follow the doctor’s orders.”
He left without another word, and the heavy door closed behind him. Evelyn was alone again. She stared at the spot where Ryan had stood, her mind reeling. Damian’s betrayal had shredded her heart. But Ryan… the man was an enigma. He always appeared when she was at her lowest, yet offered her concrete protection.
What was he after? Did he truly admire her talent and want to pull her out of the mire, or was she just a useful chess piece that he would toss into an even deeper cage once her purpose was served?
Evelyn’s phone vibrated on the nightstand. A new email. The sender was her former high school literature teacher, the kind old man, Felix Marks. Surprised, she opened the email. Mr. Marks explained that he was retiring and clearing out old class materials when he found a “time capsule” containing over a dozen unsent love letters from Damian to her. He scanned them, hoping these words of youthful memory would bring comfort to Mrs. Green.
Attached was a PDF file. Evelyn’s finger hovered over the screen for a moment, then she tapped it open.