He's Nothing But A Broken Man

Evelyn's tone shifted so abruptly that Julian had to stop. Frustration tinged his voice.

He spoke with forced calm. "Evelyn, this isn't an argument. I just want to talk. Face to face."

A derisive laugh escaped her. "Talk about what? Stop clogging my line with your pointless calls!"

She moved to end the call, but Julian's voice turned urgent. "Evelyn! Wait! Tell me the truth—did you actually get married? Or is this some pathetic attempt to hurt me?"

Evelyn scoffed at his arrogance. Her voice was pure ice. "Julian, your ego is astounding. I stopped caring about you a long time ago."

She continued, her words sharp. "And yes, I'm married. I was clear yesterday. I'm sure you and Isabella lingered after security threw you out. Hoping for a glimpse? Well, if you were watching, you saw my husband. He was the one who collected me."

Julian's mind flashed to the previous day. Disbelief warred with a rising anger. The image of that man in the car solidified.

Rage boiled over. "Evelyn, that 'husband' of yours... he's just a cripple, isn't he?" he spat, the word vile.

The insult hit its mark. Evelyn's eyes flashed crimson. "Julian," she seethed, "you will not speak about Alexander that way!"

Her fury was palpable, but strangely, it eased the tightness in Julian's chest. A low, mocking laugh rumbled from him. "Oh, I saw you get in his car. And I did my homework."

He let the silence stretch, savoring it. Then he said the name slowly, dripping with contempt. "Alexander Blackwood. The forgotten eldest son of the Blackwood fortune. A car crash left him in that chair years ago. Even his own father and stepmother want nothing to do with him. Evelyn, why would you tie yourself to such... damaged goods?"

His voice was a sneer. "You went to extreme lengths just to provoke me, didn't you?"

His words were a physical blow. Evelyn shot upright in bed, fury igniting like a wildfire. "Julian, you shut up! My husband is a better man than you could ever dream of being!"

She didn't let him interrupt. "Alexander is kind. He's considerate. He looks after me—a concept you're utterly unfamiliar with. Since I married him, my life has been peaceful. Comfortable. He is infinitely superior to a man who humiliates his bride at the altar!"

Julian's temper exploded. "Evelyn, you—" he began, teeth gritted, vision clouded by rage.

But Evelyn cut him off, her voice a whip crack. "Julian! Stay away from me. Or I will make you regret it."

She slammed the phone down. The final click echoed in the sudden quiet, her chest heaving. She stormed out of bed, her footsteps heavy on the floor as she marched to the door.

Her hand closed around the cool metal of the handle.

She pulled the door open.

And froze.

Alexander was there. His hand was raised, poised to knock.

Evelyn's breath hitched. Her anger faltered, replaced by a spike of panic. She forced her expression into neutrality. "Alexander," she said, her voice remarkably steady. "What are you doing here?"