Chapter 223

**Evelyn's POV**

I stared at the bedroom ceiling, listening to the storm rage outside. The rain lashed against the windows like angry fingers demanding entry. Dorian still hadn't returned, and the uncertainty gnawed at me.

Ella lay beside me, her breathing uneven enough that I knew she wasn't asleep either.

"Evelyn?" She gently pushed my arm. "Are you awake?"

"Mmm," I murmured, not trusting myself to speak more.

"How have you been these past three years? Really been, I mean." Her question hung in the air between us.

I swallowed hard. "Little kids shouldn't ask so many questions."

"I'm not little anymore," she protested. "I'm twenty-one now."

My heart clenched at the thought of all the years we'd lost. "Do you have someone you like?" I asked.

Ella's laugh was hollow. "How could I? Looking like this, who would want me? I'm lucky if people don't avoid me outright. And now I've hurt someone too."

I reached for her hand in the darkness. How could I tell her about the pain of the last three years? The emptiness of my marriage to Dorian, the constant ache of missing Hunter, the suffocating weight of the Blackwood name?

Something acrid tickled my nose. I sat up abruptly. "Do you smell that?"

Ella sat up beside me. "Smell what?"

"It's like... something burning."

A muffled thud came from the balcony. Before I could react, something crashed through the glass doors, landing on the floor with a metallic clang. Thick smoke began pouring from the object.

"Run!" I grabbed Ella's wrist, yanking her out of bed. "Cover your mouth!"

We stumbled into the hallway, coughing. The entire floor was already filling with dense haze.

"The stairs," I gasped, pulling Ella behind me. "We need to get outside."

We half-ran down the grand staircase. As we reached the main floor, my stomach dropped. The living room and dining area were also filled with smoke, and through the haze, I could see the orange glow of flames licking at the walls.

This wasn't some random accident. Someone had planned this.

I shoved open the front door, and we stumbled out into the rain-soaked night. Security personnel swarmed the grounds, shouting as they searched for the source of the fire.

Through the chaos, I spotted Dorian's glass conservatory engulfed in flames.

"Ms. Ashford!" A man in a dark suit ran up to us. I didn't recognize him as one of Dorian's regular security team. "Are you alright? We need to get you somewhere safe."

I coughed violently. "Where's Dorian?"

"Mr. Blackwood is on his way back. He instructed us to take you and Ms. Martinez to a secure location immediately." The man gestured toward a black sedan parked just beyond the gate.

All around us, security personnel were running with fire extinguishers. The mansion's fire alarm wailed.

Ella tugged at my hand, already moving toward the car. "Come on, Evelyn!"

Something didn't feel right. I pulled Ella back. "If Dorian's not here, how did he instruct you to take us anywhere?"

The man stepped closer. "We've been in constant communication with Mr. Blackwood. The estate isn't safe right now."

I held my ground, water dripping from my hair. "Then we'll wait right here. This place is crawling with Dorian's security. I doubt whoever set the fire would try anything else with so many witnesses."

The man leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper only I could hear. "Don't worry, Ms. Ashford. I'm with Mr. Pierce. He sent me to make sure you're safe."

My breath caught at Hunter's name. After a moment's hesitation, I nodded, guiding Ella toward the waiting car.

"Is this safe?" Ella whispered, her eyes wide with fear.

"Yes," I assured her, though my heart wasn't entirely convinced.

As we settled into the back seat, the car pulled away. Through the rear window, I watched the orange glow recede into the distance.

Suddenly, headlights appeared in the side mirror, growing larger by the second. A familiar black SUV was gaining on us.

"Get down," I hissed to Ella, pushing her head below the window line. "Driver, can you go faster? We're being followed."

The driver accelerated, weaving through late-night traffic.

"What's happening?" Ella asked, her voice tight with fear.

I didn't answer, my eyes fixed on the side mirror as Dorian's SUV continued to gain on us.

"He's catching up," I warned the driver.

The SUV suddenly swerved into the lane beside us. Before I could shout a warning, it slammed into the side of our car. Ella screamed as I threw my body over hers. The car careened off the road, coming to a jarring halt in the landscaped median.

My head throbbed from where it had struck the window. Before I could gather my thoughts, the car door was wrenched open, and Dorian's face appeared, his features contorted with rage and fear. He grabbed Ella first, pulling her from the wreckage and setting her aside before reaching back in for me.

His hands were surprisingly gentle as he helped me out, a stark contrast to the violence of moments before. In the harsh glow of the streetlights, his face looked carved from stone.

"Are you hurt?" he demanded, his hands moving over my arms, my face. "Are you okay? Tell me where it hurts."

I pushed his hands away, anger flaring hot in my chest. "Are you insane? You could have killed us! What were you thinking, ramming the car like that?"

Dorian's eyes narrowed. "What was I thinking? What were you thinking, getting into a car with strangers? Do you have any idea how stupid that was?"

"He said he was sent by you!" I shot back, though we both knew I was lying. "Everything was chaos back there, the house was on fire, what was I supposed to think?"

"Maybe call me?" he snapped, running a hand through his rain-soaked hair.

"I don't even have a phone, Dorian," I said, my voice dropping lower. The fight was draining out of me.

His expression softened slightly. "Are you sure you're not hurt?" he asked again, his hand reaching for my arm.

I winced deliberately when his fingers brushed against my upper arm. "That hurts," I murmured, looking away from him. "I think I hit it during the crash."

Dorian's touch immediately gentled, his fingers carefully probing the area. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "I just... when I saw you in that car, driving away..." He didn't finish the thought.

I let him fuss over me, his hands warm against my rain-chilled skin. Behind him, the lights of Los Angeles sparkled in the distance, while far behind us, a thin column of smoke still rose from the direction of Blackwood Estate, barely visible through the storm-washed night.