The taxi driver couldn't help stealing glances at Evelyn through the rearview mirror.

Her luminous eyes were fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. She carried herself like a Hollywood starlet, her flawless skin glowing like polished porcelain.

Her cascading hair shimmered like liquid silk, dancing lightly in the breeze. Every movement exuded elegance—she was undeniably a woman of refined grace.

The driver had only ever heard rumors about this exclusive gated community but had never set foot inside. This was Cresthaven’s most elite enclave, home to the city’s wealthiest and most powerful.

Security was notoriously tight. Ordinary people like him rarely got this close, let alone drove through its pristine streets.

This will make one hell of a story for the guys back at the depot, he thought smugly.

The deeper they ventured, the more breathtaking the surroundings became.

Lush, manicured gardens stretched endlessly, every hedge and tree sculpted to perfection. Even the leaves seemed hand-polished, glistening under the golden sunlight filtering through the canopy.

Yesterday’s rain had left the air crisp and fresh, the emerald foliage shimmering under the soft glow of dawn. The entire estate felt like a living painting—serene, untouchable, and impossibly luxurious.

Evelyn remained silent, her fingers absently tracing the edge of the car window.

The driver cleared his throat. "First time visiting, miss?"

She didn’t answer.

He swallowed, suddenly feeling out of place. The weight of the unspoken divide between them settled heavily in the car.

Up ahead, the iron gates of Whitmore Manor loomed into view.

The air carried a refined elegance through the manicured grounds of Whitmore Manor.

Evelyn's taxi pulled up to the gated entrance.

Security guards immediately recognized her and swung open the wrought iron gates.

As she paid the driver and stepped onto the cobblestone driveway, tires screeched behind her.

Ethan Caldwell emerged from the black sedan, his usually impeccable appearance disheveled.

He and Vanessa Hart were newlyweds who should have arrived together. But a last-minute crisis at Titan Capital Group had delayed him.

Vanessa, painfully aware of the Whitmore family's disdain for her, had insisted on arriving a full hour early.

When Ethan's bloodshot eyes landed on Evelyn, his breath caught.

Last night's whiskey and unexpected downpour had left him feverish. He'd stumbled home past midnight, barely sleeping before rushing to the office at dawn.

Now, seeing Evelyn's familiar silhouette against the afternoon sun, he wondered if his fever had spiked into hallucinations.

"What are you doing here?" His voice came out rougher than intended, cracking with exhaustion.

The breeze carried the faint scent of Evelyn's perfume—something floral and achingly familiar. It made his chest constrict.

Vanessa's shrill voice cut through the moment from the terrace above. "Ethan! You're finally here!"

Ethan didn't turn. His gaze remained locked on Evelyn, searching her face for... something. An explanation? A reaction?

Evelyn merely adjusted her clutch bag, her expression unreadable. "I was invited," she said simply before walking toward the house.

Her heels clicked against the stone path with finality. Each step took her further away—just like she'd walked away from their failed engagement.

Ethan's fingers twitched at his sides. For one irrational second, he considered chasing after her.

Then Vanessa's manicured hand gripped his arm, her nails digging in possessively. "Everyone's waiting inside," she hissed.

The spell broke. Ethan blinked, suddenly aware of how many Whitmore staff members had witnessed the exchange.

He allowed Vanessa to drag him toward the grand entrance, but his head turned for one last look at Evelyn's retreating figure.

Somewhere in his whiskey-addled, feverish mind, a dangerous thought took root: What if things had been different?

The heavy oak doors closed behind them with a thud that sounded suspiciously like a ###Chapter ending.

Ethan Caldwell's voice sounded thick and nasal. Evelyn Carter suspected he might be coming down with something.

He moved closer, narrowing his eyes as if confirming her identity.

A flurry of thoughts raced through Ethan's mind.

"Evelyn must be full of regret."

"She didn’t show up at the wedding to sabotage it, and now she regrets it. That’s why she followed me to Whitmore Manor—she wants me back."

His fingers closed around Evelyn’s wrist, his grip tight as he glanced around nervously. He dragged her into a secluded alcove, away from prying eyes.

"Even if you wanted to reconcile, did you really think coming here was a good idea?" His voice was low, laced with condescension. "Do you have any idea what kind of event this is? You’re just setting yourself up for humiliation."

The sight of Evelyn seemed to lift the dark cloud that had hung over him all night. His headache even dulled slightly.

"Despite how irrational she’s been lately, deep down, she still cares."

"All that defiance was just an act—a desperate attempt to get my attention, to make me look at her."

His lips curled into a smug smile.

Evelyn remained silent, her expression unreadable.

Ethan leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "If you wanted me back, you could have just said so. Was all this drama really necessary?"

She met his gaze, her eyes cool. "You’re mistaken."

His smirk faltered.

Before he could respond, a familiar voice cut through the tension.

"Evelyn?"

Alexander Whitmore stood a few feet away, his piercing gaze locked onto Ethan’s hand, still gripping Evelyn’s wrist.

Ethan stiffened.

Alexander’s presence was like a sudden storm—dark, commanding, impossible to ignore.

Evelyn pulled free, stepping toward Alexander.

Ethan’s chest tightened.

"No. She’s not leaving with him."

He reached for her again, but Alexander was faster. His arm slid around Evelyn’s waist, pulling her close.

"Problem?" Alexander’s voice was deceptively calm.

Ethan’s jaw clenched.

The air between them crackled with unspoken threats.

Evelyn exhaled softly.

This wasn’t the reunion Ethan had imagined.

Not at all.

She truly craved my affection.

Ethan Caldwell found himself undeniably drawn to Evelyn Carter. Over time, he realized his feelings for Vanessa Hart weren't as deep as he'd believed—his thoughts kept circling back to Evelyn, her every move commanding his attention.

A gentle breeze swept through, lifting the hem of Evelyn's dress. The sunlight caught the delicate embroidery of her pale yellow gown, making her glow like a vision.

Ethan's breath hitched.

She stood there, serene and poised, her calm demeanor turning everything around her into mere background noise. His gaze lingered, unable to pull away.

A memory flickered—the first time he'd seen her.