A Vow to Evade Evelyn

Silence descended upon the room.

Evelyn tilted her head slightly, stealing a glance at Alexander's face. His expression was intensely focused as he carefully applied the ointment to her wounds, handling her with the reverence one would afford a priceless artifact.

Her heart fluttered unexpectedly.

"Is something wrong?" Alexander noticed her gaze and paused, the cotton swab hovering in his hand. "Did I cause you pain?"

"No, not at all." She averted her eyes quickly, feeling a warmth spread across her cheeks.

Once the ointment was applied, Evelyn remained on her stomach, allowing it to absorb.

With her back turned, the only sounds were Alexander tidying up. The soft whir of his wheelchair moving across the floor echoed as he went into the ensuite bathroom to wash his hands. He returned moments later.

"The ointment has dried. You can get dressed now." He hesitated briefly before adding, "Don't be concerned. I won't look."

She acknowledged him with a soft sound, cautiously pulling her clothes back on before settling onto the bed.

Alexander remained by the bedside. The usual detachment in his eyes was replaced by an uncharacteristic warmth as they rested on her. "Try to sleep. I'll be right here. No one will harm you," he murmured, his voice unusually gentle.

Nestled under the warm blankets, she parted her lips to say she wasn't tired.

Yet, perhaps it was the profound sense of safety emanating from Alexander's presence that slowly lulled her. Her eyelids grew heavy, fluttering several times before finally closing.

After a while, listening to her breathing even out into a steady rhythm, he reached out and carefully tucked the blankets snugly around her. His gaze softened considerably.

But as the memory of the injuries marking her body resurfaced, a sharp, cold fury ignited in his eyes.

He made a silent vow. Julian would pay dearly for this.

The basement of Serenity Oaks was plunged into absolute darkness.

The night was deep, the air within the confined prison cell thick and stifling.

The ominous, steady sound of footsteps echoed on the staircase, breaking the heavy silence.

Alexander, tall and imposing, appeared at the entrance to the corridor. The guards stationed there immediately stepped forward, their postures radiating respect. "Mr. Blackwood."

"How is Julian?" Alexander's voice was like ice.

One of the guards bowed his head slightly. "As you instructed, sir. We've kept him alive, but only just. He awaits your... attention."

Alexander gave a slight nod and strode forward.

He soon stood before Julian.

Julian, blurred by agony and barely conscious, sensed the approach. He instinctively began to wail and beg. "Please, sir! I'm begging you! Let me go! I'll never do it again! Just let me go!"

His desperate pleas and cries continued for a long moment, met with utter silence.

Confused, Julian forced his head up. His eyes met Alexander's icy, utterly expressionless stare.

His gaze locked onto Alexander's clearly functional legs. A wave of pure, unadulterated terror stole the breath from his lungs.

"You... you can walk," Julian stammered, his face a mask of stunned disbelief.

For years, nearly everyone in Crestwood's upper society had believed Alexander Blackwood was confined to a wheelchair.

It had all been an elaborate, meticulously maintained deception.

Julian's eyes darted to the impassive guards standing nearby. A chilling realization dawned on him.

Alexander had fooled them all. He had hidden his true capabilities, and the depth of his cunning was now terrifyingly apparent.

Julian's face turned a ghostly shade of pale. Trembling uncontrollably, he pleaded, "Alexander, please, I'm begging you. Let me go. I swear I'll stay away from Evelyn! I'll never compete with you for her again