Chapter 231

**Evelyn’s POV**

"Someone told me what to do," Ella finally admitted, her voice so faint I could barely make it out. "Someone helped me."

My heart stopped. I pressed my ear harder against the door, desperate to catch every word. Who had helped her? Was it Hunter?

The door suddenly swung open, and I nearly fell forward. Dorian stood there, his expression unreadable. Behind him, Ella sat with her face ashen, hands trembling in her lap.

"Ella!" I tried to push past Dorian, but his arm blocked my path.

"James," he called over his shoulder, "make sure Ms. Martinez stays comfortable."

Before I could protest, Dorian pulled me away. A security guard took position outside the room, making it clear I wouldn't be getting past him.

"Let me go," I hissed, twisting free as he led me down the hallway.

"Not until we talk." When we were alone, I yanked my arm from his grasp.

"What did you do to her?"

"Nothing," he replied calmly. "I simply asked questions. And she answered."

Dorian's eyes narrowed slightly. "Someone has been pulling strings. Someone directed Ella, gave her instructions. They also contacted her parents, guiding them to seek your help specifically."

I swallowed hard, fighting to keep my expression neutral. "And why would anyone do that?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out." He stepped closer. "This is about your safety, Evelyn. I need to know who's using people around you as pawns."

A bitter laugh escaped me. "My safety? You're concerned about my safety now?"

"Yes." His gaze was steady, intense. "What else would this be about?"

I had no answer. My mind was racing. If Hunter had orchestrated Ella's actions, why hadn't he told me? And if it wasn't Hunter, then who?

"I need to check on Ella," I said, stepping around him.

Dorian caught my wrist. "She's fine. James will make sure of it."

I jerked away from his touch. "Your definition of 'fine' differs greatly from mine."

His jaw tightened, but he didn't follow as I walked away.

\---

The dining room gleamed under soft chandelier light. James had arranged dinner—a spread of dishes that would normally tempt my appetite. Tonight, however, food was the last thing on my mind.

"Ella won't be joining us," James informed Dorian as he placed a bottle on the table. "She's requested to remain in her room."

"What's that?" I asked, nodding toward the ornate bottle.

"A rare medicinal wine," Dorian answered. "They say it can cure everything from insomnia to heart ailments."

He uncorked it with practiced ease, pouring the ruby liquid into a crystal glass.

"Would you like some?" he offered.

"No, thank you. It seems too precious to waste on someone like me." My tone was deliberately flat.

Dorian studied me over his glass. "You still see yourself as an outsider here, don't you?"

I didn't respond, pushing food around my plate instead.

After a few moments, Dorian took a long sip of the wine. His eyes never left mine, as if searching for something I wasn't willing to give.

"You're more valuable than you realize, Evelyn," he said finally, his voice low. "To me. To this family."

I met his gaze steadily. "As what? A possession? Another trophy in the Blackwood collection?"

His expression darkened, but he didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he poured himself another glass and drank it slowly.

\---

When dinner concluded, I gathered a plate of food for Ella. As I arranged bread and fruit, I could hear the kitchen staff whispering.

"...Thompson family wants blood..."

"...will come after all of us..."

"...young master doesn't seem worried..."

Their words confirmed my fears. This conflict was escalating, threatening everyone—including Ella and me.

I climbed the stairs, balancing the plate. Behind me, I heard Dorian heading toward the master bathroom. The medicine wine had left a flush on his cheeks, but otherwise, he seemed unaffected.

Ella opened her door at my soft knock, her eyes darting nervously before letting me in.

"Are you okay?" I asked, setting the food down. "Did Dorian hurt you?"

She shook her head. "He didn't touch me. Just asked questions... and made threats."

I sat beside her. "What exactly did you tell him, Ella? Who helped you?"

"I didn't give him a name." Her voice trembled. "I couldn't. They promised to protect my parents if I kept quiet."

My chest tightened. "But there is someone? Someone specific?"

She nodded. "A man called me. Said he knew what Blake had done to me. Said he could help me get justice."

"What did he sound like? Did he have an accent or—"

A sharp knock interrupted us. I froze, exchanging a worried glance with Ella.

"We're resting!" I called out, hoping whoever it was would leave.

The knocking continued, more urgent this time.

With a sigh, I opened the door just enough to see who was there.

Dorian stood in the hallway, his hair damp from the shower, dressed in silky pajama pants and a thin t-shirt. His face was flushed, almost feverish, and his eyes seemed unusually bright.

"I think I'm sick," he said, his voice slightly rough. "I need your medical opinion."

I eyed him skeptically. "You have a team of doctors on call."

"But none of them are here right now. You are." He leaned against the doorframe. "The medicine cabinet is in the master bedroom. Could you check what I should take?"

I hesitated, torn between concern and suspicion.

"Please, Evelyn," he added, and something in his tone made me pause. Dorian Blackwood rarely said "please."

I glanced back at Ella, who was watching with frightened eyes.

"Lock the door behind me," I told her quietly. "I'll be back soon."

\---

The master bedroom was immaculately decorated, cold, and impersonal. I headed straight for the en-suite bathroom.

"The thermometer should be in the top drawer," I said, opening the cabinet.

The bedroom door clicked shut behind me. I turned to see Dorian watching me with an intensity that made my skin prickle.

"What are your symptoms?" I asked, trying to sound professional.

He moved closer, his steps deliberate. "Elevated heart rate. Flushed skin. Difficulty focusing."

I found the digital thermometer and turned to face him. "Let me check your temperature."

Before I could react, his arms encircled me from behind, pulling me against his chest. The thermometer clattered to the floor as he spun me around and backed me toward the bed. My legs hit the edge, and I fell backward onto the mattress, Dorian following me down.

"What are you doing?" I gasped, pushing against his chest.

His lips brushed my ear, his breath hot against my skin. "Who needs a thermometer? Feel for yourself how hot I am."

I pressed my palm against his forehead, alarmed by the heat radiating from him. His skin was burning, his pupils dilated.

"The wine," I realized aloud. "That wasn't just medicinal wine, was it?"

I tried to wriggle free, but his weight pinned me to the bed. His lips found my neck, trailing fire across my skin.

"Dorian, stop," I said, though my body was beginning to respond traitorously to his touch. "You're not thinking clearly."

"I'm thinking more clearly than I have in months," he murmured against my collarbone. "I want you, Evelyn. Here. Now."