Evelyn, Are You Actually Married
It all traced back to the mall yesterday.
Alexander had witnessed the entire scene.
Security had swiftly intervened, escorting Julian away.
He had stayed, a silent observer, as Sebastian arrived to collect Evelyn.
Back at Serenity Oaks, Julian's mind was racing.
He became consumed with one objective.
He needed to know everything about the man Evelyn had married.
He spent hours digging, searching for any scrap of information.
But Alexander Blackwood was a ghost.
Public records revealed nothing of substance.
The only plausible theory was the reclusive, wheelchair-bound heir to the Blackwood fortune.
Driven by a desperate need for answers, Julian contacted Evelyn the next morning.
Meanwhile, Alexander had already deduced Julian's motives with cold clarity.
He remembered the stories Evelyn had reluctantly shared.
How Julian had taken her love for granted.
How he had treated her as an afterthought.
Now, she carried the Blackwood name.
She was his wife.
And yet, Julian still dared to reach for what was no longer his.
A dark scowl settled on Alexander's face.
He slammed a heavy file onto his desk, the sound echoing in the quiet study.
His voice was ice. "I'm done with Julian Blackwood's interference. Send him a message. A very clear one. He needs to understand the consequences of coveting another man's wife."
His assistant flinched, startled by the venom in his boss's tone.
In that moment, the assistant understood.
This was not a business matter.
This was profoundly personal.
Alexander Blackwood, the man known for his stoic detachment, was fiercely protective of his wife.
Seeing the hesitation, Alexander's eyes narrowed.
"Is there a problem?" he snapped. "See that it's done. Immediately."
"Right away, sir!" the assistant stammered, quickly exiting the room.
He needed to warn the others.
The unthinkable was happening.
Their ruthless, emotionless boss had fallen, and hard.
If this continued, the social landscape of Crestwood was about to change dramatically.
At Aethelgard Industries, Evelyn was settling into her second day.
Her desk was conspicuously clear of work.
Her colleagues, still shaken from her confrontation with Genevieve, gave her a wide berth.
No one dared assign her mundane tasks.
Evelyn appreciated the quiet.
She used the time to immerse herself in the company's design archives.
She was not idle by choice.
She was waiting, patiently, for the right opportunity to present itself.
A sharp voice suddenly cut through the office silence. "Which one of you is Evelyn Blackwood?"
Evelyn looked up, startled. "That's me. What is it?"
Across the room, Genevieve jerked her head up from her sketches.
The sound of Evelyn's name was like a personal summons.
The messenger peered at Evelyn. "Your husband is waiting for you downstairs."
A wave of whispers instantly rippled through the open-plan office.
"Her husband? Evelyn, you're married?"
"So young to be tied down! How unexpected!"
"What does he look like? What does he do for a living?"
"When was the wedding? Congratulations!"
"With Evelyn's looks, he must be incredibly handsome."
Genevieve, initially shocked, recovered quickly.
A sneer twisted her lips. "For all we know," she muttered loud enough for others to hear, "he's probably some old, wealthy sugar daddy."
Evelyn ignored the buzzing gossip entirely.
The news itself had thrown her.
Alexander was here?
He never visited her at work without warning.
A cold knot of anxiety tightened in her stomach.
Something must be wrong.
Marrying A Secret Billionaire: A Twist of Fate