Owen Morgan sipped his coffee slowly, the soft light accentuating the sharp contours of his face. Evelyn Howard glared at him, eyes blazing with indignation. He leisurely swirled the coffee cup in his hand, saying, "I haven't done much, really. Just helped Dr. Jensen Romero achieve his dream of studying abroad and promised to fund all his research expenses going forward."

Evelyn’s eyes widened in disbelief. "You want Dr. Romero to go abroad? What about my sister?"

Owen raised an eyebrow, smirking as he placed the sturdy coffee cup heavily on the table, his voice laced with sarcasm. "What's your sister got to do with me? You're so noble, so impressive; why don't you just find another leading doctor for her? Is it wrong for me to sponsor someone out of goodwill?"

Her whole body trembled with fury as she glared at him insolently. Owen had cornered her, knowing she lacked the connections and resources to find anyone better than Dr. Jensen Romero.

Owen’s gaze traveled over Evelyn with a suggestive glance, assessing her from head to toe. "Evelyn, I don’t want to make things difficult for you. Just say the word, and I can bring in top experts from New York to make sure your sister gets treated."

As he spoke, his gaze fixated on her smooth, fair legs, and his hand inched closer to them. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through Evelyn, prompting a violent shudder.

Her temper finally snapped, and she grabbed the coffeepot from the table, swinging it fiercely at his head. "You jerk, get lost!"

She’d had enough! From the moment she accidentally ran into Owen three months ago and started being hassled by him, she'd been holding back this anger. Now it burst free.

Thick blood trickled down from Owen's head as he let out a faint curse, his eyes filled with malice. "You dare hit me, Evelyn? Have I been too kind to you?"

Evelyn took a step back, her chin raised defiantly. "You've gone too far. You can pester me all you want, but my sister means everything to me. If you dare harm her, I'll drag you to hell with me!"

She appeared calm on the surface, but her hands were shaking so much she could hardly lift them. The bright red of Owen's head wound made her feel faint.

"You ungrateful wretch. Do you honestly think I care about the lives of you and your sister?" Owen snarled. "The game’s over, Evelyn. Today, no one can save you."

Ignoring his bleeding wound, Owen lunged to grab Evelyn. In a panic, she shoved the chair at him and sprinted for the door.

Owen tripped over the chair, sprawling clumsily on the floor. Before he could react, the smoke alarm blared overhead, releasing a cascade of water that drenched him.

Cursing under his breath, he got to his feet, drenched and furious, as Evelyn shouted out. "Somebody, help! Mr. Morgan has fainted, quick, come in..."

The bodyguards stationed outside heard the cries and burst into the private room immediately. "Mr. Morgan, are you alright?"

Taking advantage of the chaos, Evelyn dashed for the exit. Owen wiped the water off his face, shouting angrily, "Idiots! Get her back!"

The sound of footsteps behind her sent a surge of terror through Evelyn. She couldn’t let them catch her!

In her desperate flight, she collided with a warm, protective figure. "Are you alright?" a familiar voice asked, and Evelyn looked up.

She found herself enveloped in Everett Scott's embrace, his arm securely around her waist, casting a steely gaze at the approaching bodyguards. Evelyn clung to Everett's arm, her voice trembling, "Mr. Scott..."

"It’s okay," Everett assured her softly.

In the next moment, he scooped Evelyn up in his arms, glaring at the bodyguards with icy authority. "If you want to keep your jobs, back off."

Intimidated by his commanding presence, the bodyguards could only watch helplessly as he carried Evelyn into an elevator. As the elevator descended, they hesitated, unsure whether to pursue them. Moments later, Owen emerged.

Clutching his wounded forehead, he kicked one of the bodyguards in frustration. "Where is she?"

"She... she got away with someone," one stammered.

"Who?" Owen demanded.

"I don’t know," came the muttered response.

"Useless!" Owen seethed, his headache intensifying. Seeing the elevator had reached the ground floor, he knew it was too late to catch them now. Just then, the restaurant manager appeared, drawn by the commotion in the private room.

"Mr. Morgan, oh my, what happened?" the manager exclaimed.

Seething with suppressed fury, Owen barked, "Get the surveillance footage. I want to know who had the guts to snatch her away from me!"

In the surveillance room, as the manager squirmed under Owen's glare, the screen showed only static. "Mr. Morgan, it seems the cameras malfunctioned today. We didn’t capture the hallway, and the smoke alarm's issue is still under investigation."

Owen kicked the wall in frustration, everything going wrong. Meanwhile, outside the restaurant, Everett had already helped Evelyn into his car.

As the events replayed in her mind, Evelyn felt waves of relief mixed with fear, curling up like a frightened rabbit. Sitting beside her, Everett asked with concern, "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine..." Evelyn shook her head, clutching his arm tightly as if it were her lifeline. "I... I injured Owen. Could I go to jail for this?"

Her stunningly beautiful face was pale, combining fragility with resilience—strength born from adversity.

Everett gently patted her back to calm her. "No, you won’t."

"That's a relief." Evelyn exhaled, a timid smile appearing. Hitting Owen had been satisfying. But as she thought of her sister still in the hospital, her spirits fell again.

"So, Mr. Scott, are you still willing to marry me? The registry office should still be open."

Everett looked at her. She was terrible at hiding her emotions—her fiddling fingers as good as confessing: I’m sorry, I need to use you.

Without hesitation, Everett replied, "Yes, let’s go get the marriage license now."

Half an hour later, they emerged from the registry office. Everett opened the car door and moved to the driver's seat. Evelyn, holding the marriage certificate, glanced at Everett’s faintly smiling picture. Her own expression beside him was somewhat stiff.

Her heart beat wildly. "Regrets?" Everett's voice sounded in her ear.

"No," she replied, sliding the certificate into her bag. "It's just that..."

She didn’t finish before her phone rang. The caller ID displayed Owen's name. Evelyn’s fingers froze for a moment. Everett took a quick glance but said nothing, simply stepping aside to give her space.

Taking a deep breath, Evelyn answered the call.

Owen Morgan's voice on the phone was as sure and arrogant as ever. "St. Mary's Hospital, inpatient unit. Evelyn, I'm waiting for you."

Evelyn Howard tightened her grip on the phone, her voice strained. "I'm not coming."

There was a pause on the other end, followed by a soft chuckle. "Oh really? Are you done worrying about your sister? Evelyn, I don't have time for games. You'll come whether you like it or not. Otherwise..."

His voice lowered, carrying a clear threat. "Your sister in the ICU can forget about getting any more medical care."

Evelyn's heart clenched tightly. Her sister—her one vulnerability. Images of her sister's pale face in the hospital room and the mounting medical bills filled her mind. Evelyn's slender frame trembled slightly until suddenly, a comforting hand rested on her shoulder from behind.

"Are you okay?" a deep voice asked, full of reassuring warmth.

Evelyn looked up into Everett Scott's eyes. There was no curiosity, no pity—just calm concern. In that instant, her racing heart settled.

Taking a deep breath, Evelyn's voice steadied. She spoke clearly, "Owen Morgan, I'm married!"

Silence followed before Owen spoke again, disbelief evident in his voice. "Married? To whom?"

He couldn't believe anyone in Manchester would dare marry the woman he was after.

"It's none of your business. Just know that you should stop bothering me."

With that, Evelyn hung up and immediately blocked Owen's number.

On the way back, Evelyn occasionally glanced at Everett Scott beside her, pondering how to bring up her sister's situation. Just then, Everett received a call.

"Are they here?" His voice was deep, unemotional. After a brief exchange, he hung up.

Noticing Everett's gaze on her, Evelyn asked softly, "What's going on?"

"A relative has come from London. I've planned dinner to welcome them. Would you like to join me?" Everett proposed.

Evelyn pressed her lips together nervously. Were they already meeting family so soon after tying the knot?

Sensing her hesitation, Everett said kindly, "It's okay if you're not ready yet."

Meeting Everett's gaze, Evelyn took a deep breath. "I'll go with you." After all, she had already married Everett, and meeting his family was inevitable. Besides, she needed his help regarding her sister's situation. Perhaps after meeting his family, she'd find a chance to discuss it.

As the car drove through the city, neon lights bathed her delicate profile in silence.

They arrived at the familiar restaurant. Upon entering the private room, Evelyn saw an elderly man with gray hair but bright eyes. She realized she wasn't as composed as she thought.

She had little experience dealing with elders. What if Everett's family didn't accept her?

Seeing her anxiety, Everett gently squeezed her hand and warmly greeted the elder. "Grandpa Romero, it's been a long time."

He shook their clasped hands slightly and introduced her, "This is my wife, Evelyn Howard."

"Honey, this is Grandpa Romero, a close friend of my grandfather."

The warmth of Everett's hand instantly calmed Evelyn's racing heart. Blushing, she greeted, "Hello, Grandpa Romero."

Jensen Romero eyed Evelyn discerningly, then nodded approvingly. "Hello, Evelyn. Please, take a seat."

No sooner had Evelyn settled into her seat than Jensen mildly admonished Everett, "You rascal, you didn't even tell us about getting hitched."

Evelyn thought he was displeased with her, and she stiffened. But Jensen laughed heartily. "I bet old Scott doesn't know yet, does he? Am I the first to hear this great news?"

Everett was relaxed around Jensen but showed clear respect. Sitting beside Evelyn, he nodded lightly. "Yes, we just got our license and haven't told the family yet."

Jensen gave Everett a satisfied pat on the shoulder. "Good job, you picked a lovely wife."

"Just last week, fishing with your grandfather, he was worried that with your attitude, you'd end up on your own forever. Little did he know you'd head to Manchester and secretly tie the knot."

"When will you inform the family? Ideally, head back to London and throw a big party. Give your grandparents something to celebrate."

Hearing this, Evelyn tensed again. The insecurity she had pushed aside rushed back. How could she, an ordinary woman, marry someone like Everett from a distinguished London family?

Sensing her unease, Everett gestured for the dishes to be served, steering the conversation elsewhere. "There's no hurry, Grandpa Romero. Tonight is about you."

Jensen chuckled, raising his coffee cup. "Alright, alright. I know you're on top of things. No more questions."

"Evelyn," Romero turned his warm smile to her, "I didn't know you were married when I came, so I didn't bring a gift. Here's a card with some money. Treat yourself."

With that, Romero placed a black card on the table and nudged it toward her.

Evelyn's eyes widened. Was this one of those limitless black cards you read about in romance novels? Who accepts such an extravagant gift upon first meeting?

She hurriedly declined, "Oh, no, no, Grandpa Romero, I couldn't."

Romero feigned sternness, "It's just a token. If you don't accept it, you're offending me!"

Afraid of upsetting him, Evelyn glanced at Everett for help. Seeing her pleading, watery eyes, his heart softened, and he gently ruffled her hair. "Take it. Grandpa Romero's not short on cash. No worries."

Evelyn hesitated, "But..."

Romero 's face turned mock-stern. "If you keep refusing, I'll really get grumpy."

With no choice, Evelyn took the card, "Then I'll accept it, thank you, Grandpa Romero." She decided to return it to Everett later, unwilling to use it.

During dinner, Romero asked about Evelyn's work. Learning she was a teacher, and Clover Scott's teacher no less, he nodded with satisfaction and playfully challenged her to guess his profession.

There was no way Evelyn could know, so she discreetly squeezed Everett's hand under the table.

Everett raised an eyebrow, his tone nonchalant. "Grandpa Romero is a specialist in neurology."

Neurology. Evelyn's eyes widened in disbelief. Could he really be Jensen Romero, the professor?

Jensen Romero, a lifelong professor at Oxford Medical University and a leading authority in neurology, sat across from Evelyn Howard. After her sister fell ill, Evelyn had combed through every expert in neurology. She had pored over Professor Romero's published papers so many times she could summarize each abstract by heart. Sadly, Professor Romero had retired some time ago. Evelyn had asked around but learned he had been off the radar for years. She had no other choice but to contact his protégé, Dr. Robert Haynes.

Now, with the distinguished professor smiling warmly across the table from her, Evelyn felt as if she were dreaming.

"I never imagined a young lady like you would know my name," Professor Romero remarked with a friendly chuckle. "Seems like I'm a touch more famous than old Mr. Scott. I'll be sure to boast about it next chance I get."

He acknowledged her.

Evelyn's breath quickened; there was hope for her sister. His words pierced through the bleakness she'd lived in for two years. She stood abruptly, her chair scraping loudly on the floor.

"Professor Romero, I—"

She paused before continuing, anxiety in her voice.

"My sister suffered a stroke at fifteen and has been in a coma ever since. The doctors here can't determine the cause, and they're afraid surgery is too risky, so they keep delaying..."

Her words spilled out in a rush, fearing she’d miss an opportunity if she paused even briefly.

"I know you're retired, and asking for your help is a big favor, but I'm prepared to pay anything! Please, help my sister!"

With this plea, she stood earnestly, aware of the boldness of her request. Tonight was supposed to be a dinner welcoming her as Everett Scott's new wife, a chance to impress the elders. But she couldn't wait any longer. Her sister had been in the ICU for two years, losing more of herself each day. Dr. Haynes kept insisting on more observation. Professor Romero was her only hope in this lifetime. Even if it spoiled the dinner, even if Professor Romero deemed her reckless, even if Everett ended up dismayed—she had to make the request.

A silence blanketed the room for a few seconds.

Evelyn focused on the floor, her heart pounding like a drum.

"My dear," Professor Romero said gently, placing a reassuring hand on her arm. "Please, sit down. There's no need for such urgency."

Evelyn sat up straight, her eyes already shimmering with tears.

Professor Romero wasn't annoyed; instead, he looked at her with empathy. He softly patted her hand and said, "Since you're married to Everett, we're family now. I've retired, yes, but I can still come up with a plan. Let's enjoy dinner first, and then we'll talk it over."

Evelyn nodded intensely, unable to speak as her throat tightened with emotion.

Throughout the meal, she barely tasted her food. She mechanically moved her fork around, the flavors absent from her senses. Her gaze frequently drifted to Professor Romero, wanting to speak but fearing her eagerness might spoil everything, her anxiety causing her fingers to tremble.

Finally, as dinner ended, she immediately pulled out her phone to show her sister’s medical records.

"Professor Romero, my sister's name is Gianna, she's seventeen now, and she's been in a coma for two years. Here are all her medical reports..."

Professor Romero took the phone, scrolling through the files one by one. Evelyn watched him closely, observing his expressions—sometimes focused, occasionally furrowing his brow, then relaxing. Her heart pounded as if it might leap from her chest. Time seemed to stretch, each second a painful wait.

At last, Professor Romero raised his head. "The situation isn't too grim," he stated.

"But I'll need to examine her personally for an accurate diagnosis."

Not too grim—those words were like a lifeline pulling Evelyn back from despair. Tears unexpectedly welled up in her eyes.

"Thank you..." she managed to say, overwhelmed with emotion.

Professor Romero didn’t respond, instead sharing a significant look with Everett Scott.

Grinning, he handed the phone back to Evelyn, his eyes playfully teasing. "No need to thank me. I'm here at someone’s invitation. I'll be staying in Oxford for a while. If you trust me, I can arrange a surgical team for your sister’s treatment."

At someone’s invitation. Staying in Oxford. Evelyn’s tears still clung to her face, yet she froze momentarily.

She turned to the man beside her. Everett was sipping coffee, his long fingers wrapped around a porcelain cup, his expression indifferent as if this dinner was perfectly routine.

But Evelyn wasn't naive. Professor Romero had been retired for years, difficult to meet even with persistent efforts. Why would he suddenly appear in Oxford, suddenly here on someone’s invitation? Clearly, Everett had brought him here for her benefit.

Realizing this, Evelyn felt a wave of emotion overcome her.

As the dinner ended, Everett's assistant escorted Professor Romero back to his hotel.

Standing at the restaurant entrance, the early spring breeze lifted Evelyn's hair, but she felt far from cold. She watched Everett’s figure retreat, her thoughts spinning.

"Mind the chill," Everett said, turning back to shield her from the breeze. "Let’s get in the car."

His voice remained gentle, as if nothing had changed. Yet Evelyn stood her ground, suddenly grasping his hand.

Everett glanced down at her slender, cool fingers.

"It was you, wasn’t it?" Evelyn asked, her eyes slightly red but determined to meet his gaze. "You invited Professor Romero from the city."

The night air swirled between them, lifting her hair against his hand.

Everett remained silent.

His silence was its own confession.

"Why?" Evelyn’s voice was gentle, filled with gratitude and wonder.

She paused for a moment, then kept walking, resolute against the insults from petty people like Owen Morgan and his relatives. "You’re far better than them," she said to Everett softly. With that thought, she held Everett’s hand tighter and walked away without a backward glance.

Even from a distance, she could feel Owen Morgan's stare piercing her back like a nail. She took a deep breath, looked up at Everett, and whispered, "Don't let their words get to you."

Everett glanced down at her, his expression attentive and contemplative. "It’s already too late for that. But tell me, were you truthful when you said Owen doesn’t hold a candle to me?"

Evelyn paused, unsure how to reply.

"Love?" Everett gently tilted his head, a hint of disappointment crossing his face. He was becoming more accustomed to calling her that, though his attempt at feigned hurt was still somewhat awkward.

Evelyn didn’t mind the awkwardness. She smiled softly and nodded sincerely, "Of course, it's true. Owen couldn’t ever compare to you."

Everett's face brightened considerably.

While Evelyn's spirits dipped momentarily, it wasn’t because of Owen’s insults. Those people meant little to her. What troubled her was drawing Everett into a situation where he was demeaned, mistaken for a kept man.

"I'm sorry," Evelyn whispered, "for dragging you into this, for allowing them to insult you."

Everett paused and spoke softly, "Hold on a moment."

Evelyn watched, puzzled, as Everett pushed back through the crowd, unsure of what he was doing.

Where was he going?

Confused, she stood by the shopping cart, observing the sea of unfamiliar faces passing by.

Then, amidst her uncertainty, a sweet-scented ice cream cone appeared before her, fringed with colorful sprinkles.

"Want some?" Everett's gentle voice reached her ears.

Evelyn looked up, the sunlight streaming in behind him, creating an aura that hid his expression. Yet his eyes shone more warmly than the sun itself.