Chapter 233

Evelyn's POV

"It's you," Dorian said quietly. "You're the one who can't let him go."

His words hung in the air between us like a poisonous cloud. I remained curled on my side, letting my tears soak into the pillowcase. The silence stretched between us, weighted with years of unspoken accusations.

I drew in a shaky breath. "A dead man, Dorian. What threat could he possibly pose to you now?"

My voice cracked with just the right amount of heartbreak. Inside, I was calculating every word, every pause, watching how they landed.

Dorian turned to face me, his expression uncharacteristically hesitant. The moonlight filtering through the curtains cast half his face in shadow.

"What if he wasn't dead?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "What would you do then, Evelyn? With Liam in your bed and Hunter Pierce walking the streets?"

My heart skipped a beat, but I kept my face carefully arranged in grief. "What are you implying, Dorian Blackwood? Are you reminding me of what you did?"

I moved to leave the bed, but his hand shot out, gripping my wrist with bruising force.

"Answer me."

I yanked my arm away, surprised when he let go without resistance.

"I hate you," I spat, the words tearing from my throat with a ferocity that surprised even me. "Do you understand that, Dorian? I hate you."

Something flickered in his eyes—not hurt, not quite anger. Something closer to satisfaction.

"Fine," he said, leaning back against the headboard. "Hate me, then. I can live with your hatred, Evelyn."

His calm acceptance fueled my anger, but a flash of worry cut through the haze. Ella was still in the guest room, vulnerable and afraid. I needed to change tactics.

"Is that what this is about?" I asked, forcing a bitter laugh. "Blake had Lila, and you felt cheated? Is that why you're suddenly so interested in Ella? Another conquest to even the score?"

His expression hardened instantly. "Don't mention her name," he growled, and I knew he meant Lila, not Ella. "Not in my bedroom."

I seized the opportunity, doubling down on my performance of grief.

"If you hadn't brought it up, I'd have nearly forgotten all about Hunter Pierce by now," I said, letting fresh tears pool in my eyes. "I can barely remember his face anymore. That fire... it burned everything away. Left nothing but ashes."

I watched Dorian's jaw clench, satisfaction blooming inside me even as my voice broke on the lies.

"Get out," he ordered, his voice deadly quiet.

I didn't need to be told twice. I slipped from the bed, my nightgown falling around my legs as I moved toward the door.

"Gladly," I whispered, pulling the door closed behind me.

Once in the hallway, I wiped away the fake tears with the back of my hand, a small smile playing at my lips. Clever Evelyn, escaping the tiger's jaws with nothing but your wits.

I straightened my nightgown and ran my fingers through my tangled hair before heading toward the guest room. The grand hallway of Blackwood Estate seemed to stretch endlessly, the luxury of it all a gilded cage.

I filed away a crucial observation: Hunter's name cut deeper than Liam's. That would be useful if I found myself in danger again.

\---

The next morning, I descended the sweeping staircase to find Dorian standing in the foyer, his voice sharp as he berated James.

"—unforgivable carelessness," he was saying, his back to me. "Do you have any idea what could have happened?"

James stood with his head bowed, still wearing yesterday's rumpled clothes. When he shifted uncomfortably, I noticed the purplish marks peeking above his collar.

"Good morning," I interrupted cheerfully, enjoying how they both tensed at my voice.

James turned, hastily adjusting his collar, but not before I'd seen enough to piece together his evening activities.

"James," I said, my voice light with mock surprise, "are you married? Or at least seeing someone? Those are some impressive... credentials on your neck."

His face flushed crimson as he fumbled with his collar. "Mrs. Blackwood, please don't misunderstand—"

"Mrs. Blackwood has an overactive imagination," Dorian cut in smoothly, but I caught the dangerous glint in his eye.

James cleared his throat. "Mrs. Blackwood, I must apologize for last night. My father's wine... it contained some mushrooms with... unusual properties. Mr. Blackwood was affected, and I take full responsibility."

I laughed, enjoying Dorian's discomfort. "Oh, your boss handled it much better than you, apparently. Next time you should arrange aftercare too. Pushing through like that can cause problems."

Dorian's eyes narrowed, understanding my implication that nothing had happened between us.

I sailed past them toward the kitchen, deciding to prepare breakfast myself rather than wait for the cook. I measured oats into a pot, adding water and a pinch of salt, my movements practiced from years of making my own meals before the sham of a marriage.

When I returned to the dining room with a steaming bowl of oatmeal, I saw James hurrying toward the door, cradling an empty wine bottle.

"Destroying evidence?" I called after him, earning a scowl from Dorian.

"Mrs. Blackwood," James said stiffly, "there's someone here to see you. A Mr. Montgomery."

My heart leapt, though I kept my expression neutral. I set down my bowl and walked toward the front entrance, where Liam stood in the dappled morning sunlight filtering through the trees.

His face was tight with concern, eyes scanning me from head to toe as if checking for injuries. "Evelyn! You're actually here. I've been looking everywhere for you! What happened? Your phone's been off for days."

I touched his arm reassuringly. "Don't worry, don't worry. A friend got into some trouble, and we're hiding out here for a few days."

"Hiding? Here?" Liam's eyebrows shot up, disbelief etched across his features.

"It's complicated," I said, just as Dorian stepped outside to join us.

"Mr. Montgomery," Dorian greeted, his voice dripping with false warmth. "What a surprise."

Liam's jaw tightened, but he maintained his composure. "Blackwood."

Dorian circled us like a predator, his eyes never leaving my face. "You know she's keeping secrets from you, don't you?" he said to Liam, his voice conversational. "You should ask her about Hunter Pierce sometime."

I felt my cheeks flush with anger, but Liam merely raised an eyebrow.

"Hunter Pierce?" he repeated, turning to me with exaggerated curiosity. "Is that supposed to mean something to me?" His eyes met mine, and I saw the barest hint of amusement there. "Should I be concerned?"

"You tell me," Dorian pressed. "Evelyn certainly seems to think about him often. Especially in... intimate moments."

I nearly laughed out loud then, the absurdity of it all bubbling up inside me. Hunter had clearly told Liam where to find me, and now Dorian was unwittingly playing directly into our hands.

"Is that so?" Liam asked, stepping closer to me. "Well, whoever this Hunter is, he must be quite something to have made such an impression." He turned back to Dorian, challenge in his eyes. "Or maybe he's just not you."