Harrison Won't Escape This

Alexander let out a low, soft laugh. His eyes, usually so detached, remained fixed on Evelyn. A flicker of warmth appeared in their depths.

"You don't need to concern yourself with such individuals anymore," he said quietly. "Harrison and Margaret are beneath your notice. Truly, they aren't worth the effort. They aren't worth you dirtying your hands. No matter the situation, I will always be here to shield you."

Evelyn met his gaze directly, her own steady and sure. "It shouldn't fall only to you," she stated, her voice firm with conviction. "We face things together. That is the meaning of marriage, isn't it?"

A mischievous sparkle lit up her eyes as she raised an eyebrow. "And honestly, do you believe for a second that I was frightened of them? Not a chance. Not even slightly."

A smirk played on her lips. "I defended you. I put them firmly in their place. I bet that infuriated those bullies."

Alexander blinked, caught momentarily off balance.

He had never, in his entire life, anticipated being the one who was protected. Especially not by a woman.

A strange, unfamiliar feeling stirred deep within him. Warmth seeped through fissures in a heart he had long thought was sealed against such emotions. He couldn't explain it, but today, repeatedly, Evelyn had rekindled something inside him. Something he believed had been extinguished years ago.

He drew a slow, measured breath, suppressing the emotion threatening to rise to the surface. He simply replied, "Alright."

But internally, he made a silent, solemn vow. No matter the cost, no matter what was required, he would ensure Evelyn was safe from harm. She would never have to stand and fight alone.

After Evelyn and Alexander departed, the once vibrant birthday celebration rapidly fell apart. It concluded in an atmosphere of palpable awkwardness and haste. Conversations died mid-sentence. Guests exchanged uneasy, knowing glances. A thick tension lingered in the air, cold and inescapable.

Meanwhile, Harrison's agonized groans and cries echoed through the now largely empty hall. Margaret, however, remained skeptical.

How much real damage could Alexander—a man confined to a wheelchair—possibly have done?

She knew her son's nature. Harrison had been pampered and sheltered since infancy, prone to treating the slightest discomfort as a major catastrophe. She assumed this was merely another one of his dramatic performances.

But the moment they arrived at the hospital, and the doctor's expression turned grim during the examination, Margaret's confidence shattered. She had been profoundly mistaken.

"The external injury doesn't appear excessively severe. However, the damage has penetrated to the bone. Had the applied force been even marginally greater, his hand could have been permanently disabled," the doctor explained, his tone clinical yet grave.

Margaret's breath caught in her throat. Her eyes widened in sheer disbelief. "H-how can that be?" she stammered, her fingers gripping the fabric of her coat.

Harrison unleashed a fresh wave of pitiful wails, his face twisted in agony. "That monster Alexander! I swear, I'll make him pay for this in blood!"

The doctor, meticulously wrapping the bandages around Harrison's hand, felt an involuntary chill. Whatever personal vendetta existed between these people, it had escalated into something far darker than he wished to be involved in.

"Be careful, you fool!" Harrison snapped, his face gleaming with cold sweat.

"Y-yes, of course, sir," the doctor stammered, nodding hurriedly and adjusting his technique to avoid provoking another outburst.

Margaret hovered at her son's side, dabbing his forehead with a handkerchief, her heart aching at his evident suffering. Yet, as she watched him, a shadow of unease crossed her face. "I severely underestimated Alexander," she muttered under her breath.

Harrison ground his teeth together, rage simmering beneath the layer of humiliation. The idea that he had been nearly crippled—by Alexander, of all people—was utterly intolerable.

For as long as he could remember, Alexander had been a worthless non-entity within the Blackwood family, a burden Harrison had always dismissed. He, Harrison, was the legitimate heir. He was the one destined for power and prestige.

To be humiliated by someone he considered beneath contempt? That was a stain on his honor that Harrison could not abide.

Harrison's fury burned just below the surface, his jaw clenched so tight it ached. "Alexander will not escape the consequences of this. And that woman—how dare she humiliate me publicly? No one in this city speaks to me that way and gets away with it. They will both live to regret their actions."

Margaret pressed her lips into a thin, tight line. Her voice was carefully controlled. "Harrison, you must control your temper. Eleanor is still a factor. She has never approved of me, and by extension, she has always kept her distance from you. If she hears about this incident, she will side with Alexander without a second thought."

The mention of Eleanor sent another torrent of rage through Harrison. His fists clenched, his expression darkening further.

Harrison's voice dripped with venom. "She is the sole reason Father continues to withhold the official heir designation from me."

He turned to Margaret, frustration crackling in his tone. "Mother, do you have any idea how much we have endured because of her? My patience has run out!"

Margaret exhaled slowly, weariness etching lines on her face. "We have no alternative, Harrison. Timing is critical. We endure for now. But when the opportune moment arrives—we will strike."

Every fiber of his being rebelled, but Harrison gave a stiff, reluctant nod. "Fine. I understand."

The instant Margaret left the room, his expression transformed. The petulant frustration hardened into something cold and ruthless.

If he could not destroy Alexander and Evelyn directly and immediately, he would find another, more subtle way to make them suffer.

His fingers moved swiftly across his phone's screen. Each tap was a silent, deadly promise of vengeance.