Curled up alone on the bed, Isabella wrapped her arms around her knees, a subtle shiver rippling through her body.

Under her breath, she scolded herself for ruining something so important and offending the Evans family, with no idea how they would deal with her or Nathalie now.

Anxious thoughts kept circling through her mind. She wondered whether Nathaniel had already slept with Nathalie the night before, and she was terrified that if the Evans family took offense, both of them would be sent straight back home.

Worry pinched her brows tightly. Huddled there in a shaken little heap, she looked frightened and helpless, while the red marks scattered across her body stood as cruel traces of the night before, enough to make anyone's chest ache.

A moment later, Alexander finished his call and stepped back into the bedroom. This whole absurd mess had never been part of his plan either.

When his eyes shifted toward the bed, he found Isabella sitting there in a daze, trembling so badly she looked almost sick.

Memories of his unchecked intensity from the night before resurfaced. At that thought, he crossed the room in measured strides.

"Are you alright? Anywhere hurt?" he asked.

At the sound of him so close, Isabella's breath hitched sharply. She gave a quick, instinctive shake of her head, yet her throat felt parched to the point where no words would come.

After a brief pause, Alexander studied her pale face before speaking again, his tone settling into a steady calm. "What's done is done. We'll need to deal with what happened properly. I'll speak to my parents about it first and then we'll decide what to do next. Your sister still has to marry into the Evans family. But as for you… If you're unwilling, I can arrange some compensation and have you sent back to your family."

Forcing a woman had never been something he would do. Originally, Natalie had been the one meant to marry into the family to comfort his ailing grandmother, and given his age, the arrangement had made practical sense.

As for Isabella, she had only accompanied Natalie into the household, an unintended shadow in this marriage arrangement. Had he realized the mix-up from the night before, he would never have crossed that line with her.

Before he could finish speaking, however, Isabella's reaction came sharp and immediate. "No… I don't want to go back!"

She understood all too well what going back meant—being forced into marriage with an older man she couldn't stand.

Desperation crept into her voice as she clutched at this fleeting chance. "Please… I don't want to go back. I'll listen to everything you say. I'll do whatever you need… I… I'll even try to get pregnant as soon as possible… Just... please..."

Perched on the edge of the bed, she kept her head bowed, tangled hair falling over her face in messy strands, her thin fingers gripping the blanket. Nothing about her posture resembled a bride facing her future husband.

Silence stretched as Alexander lingered on her for a moment.

What unsettled him most was the memory of his own lapse—how he had lost control the previous night and kept her awake far too long.

Though their bodies had fit together with unsettling ease, the thought only sharpened his concern; she was far too young, far too fragile for the role he required.

What he needed was a composed, capable woman who could navigate the complexities of his family, not someone who would crumble under pressure and create more complications.

"If you're going to stand beside me as my wife, you'll need the kind of social grace that protects a family's reputation. Your sister manages that well—can you?"

Caught off guard, Isabella stiffened. Her timid nature made her voice drop to a barely audible whisper whenever she spoke to others.

Deep down, she had longed to be bold and composed like Nathalie, yet childhood memories of harsh punishments for the slightest misstep had carved fear into her bones, leaving her hesitant to utter a word most of the time...

Understanding that Nathalie's protection would not last forever, Isabella pushed herself to lift her gaze as she spoke. "Mr. Evans… I can learn. I'll work hard. I'll do whatever it takes..."

"And what makes you think I would take the time to teach you?"

At Alexander's words, the fragile light in her eyes dimmed, her expression paling as if she had been startled in the glare of sudden headlights. Watching her reaction, he felt an unexpected tug at his chest.

He had no intention of being cruel; he was merely stating an undeniable truth.

Had Isabella been destined to marry Nathaniel, their mother might have overlooked her shortcomings without much fuss, but becoming his wife was an entirely different matter.

The Evans family operated with layered expectations that weren't easy to navigate. Patience wasn't something Alexander was willing to spend on teaching a timid woman how to survive it.

"Everything will have to be discussed with my parents at the Evans Estate. I've already arranged for proper clothes to be sent over. If you present yourself like this in front of them, there's no chance you'll be accepted into the family."

Despite his firm tone, he hadn't completely shut her out. After all, the night before had crossed a line neither of them had planned, and no one welcomed a situation that messy or unexpected.

With that, he turned and walked out.

Left alone, Isabella remained seated on the bed, her thoughts drifting in a haze as she tried to grasp whether she still had a chance—if, perhaps, his parents agreed.

Clinging to that hope, she pushed herself upright and slipped out of bed.

Just as her feet touched the carpet, the door swung open from the outside. A middle-aged woman stepped in. Startled, Isabella instinctively shrank back, heat flooding her face as she became keenly aware of the faint marks scattered across her skin.

Then Alexander's earlier words echoed in her mind.

Forcing herself to steady, she drew in a shaky breath and pulled the blanket tighter around her body, shielding what she could. "Put..." A broken rasp slipped from her throat as she struggled to raise her voice. "Put it there. I'll get it myself."

As soon as the woman withdrew and the door clicked shut, Isabella scrambled for the clothes, only for her shaky legs to buckle and send her crumpling to the floor.

Tears burned at her nose, but she bit them back, forced herself up, and dressed as fast as she could. To her surprise, the clothes fit her almost perfectly.

Once she had washed her face, she stopped in front of the full-length mirror. Her complexion was still wan and fragile, yet the neatly tailored white dress softened her into a picture of quiet innocence, making her look, at least on the surface, not entirely out of place as Alexander's wife.

She tried on a smile at her reflection, but it came out tight and awkward, like something that didn't belong on her face.

Just then, a knock landed on the bedroom door, followed by Alexander's flat, unreadable voice from outside. "Are you ready?"

Her heart gave a sudden jump. After one last glance at herself in the mirror, Isabella steadied her breathing, pushed down her nerves, and went to open the door.

Standing just outside, Alexander was already dressed in a crisp, dark suit, his presence carrying a quiet, chilling authority.

His eyes moved over her in a brief, assessing sweep. While the lingering fear in her gaze hadn't disappeared, he noted that she at least looked presentable now, her posture no longer entirely collapsed. "Let's go."

Isabella's steps wavered, her legs still weak, yet she gathered her strength to keep pace, quietly following behind him.

...

At the Evans Estate, Isabella trailed after Alexander. The moment she stepped inside, she saw that her sister had already arrived.

Natalie sat beside a young man who looked so much like Alexander they could only be brothers.

As Isabella turned toward her, Natalie met her gaze at once, her eyes brimming with worry.

Nathaniel's eyes dropped immediately to the faint love marks peeking out beneath Isabella's collar.

A sharp laugh broke from him without warning, cutting through the stillness in the room, yet he looked perfectly at ease.

"So, Alex, did you bring her back for me?" he drawled.

Crossing the room, Nathaniel gave Isabella a slow, appraising look before leaning in closer to Alexander.

Handsome as he was, Isabella instinctively felt there was something mean and rotten in him, a vicious streak that made her skin crawl.

"Hey, if you don't want the younger one, then why not hand both sisters over to me?"

With a sharp, frosty look sweeping across the room, Alexander silenced Nathaniel for a brief moment. Then the younger brother let out a careless scoff. "Forget it. Keep her. I don't want a woman you've already had sex with anyway."

From where he sat, Jude Evans watched his wayward son, Nathaniel, with piercing eyes, and then struck his cane against the floor with a heavy crack. "Keep talking, and I'll snap your leg."

Once everyone had taken their seats, Pamela Evans—Alexander and Nathaniel's mother—finally spoke in a measured voice. "Tell me exactly what happened yesterday."

Her cool, penetrating gaze moved over Natalie and then settled on Isabella.

Natalie parted her lips, ready to respond, but one warning look from Pamela stopped her cold. "Isabella, you tell us," Pamela said calmly.

At once, Isabella rose to her feet, swallowing against the tightness in her throat as she tried to keep her voice from shaking. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Evans. Yesterday, I read the license plate wrong, so I got into the wrong car."

The moment the words fell from her mouth, the room went utterly still.

Pamela's sharp, measuring eyes lingered on Isabella's pale features.

Timid as Isabella looked, she had at least told the truth without trying to push the blame onto anyone else.

"You read it wrong?" Pamela's voice stayed even, yet the quiet weight behind it pressed down on the entire room. "Something this important happened, and you expect to dismiss it as a simple mistake?"

A slick layer of sweat coated Isabella's trembling palms, betraying the anxiety tightening around her chest.

Across the room, Natalie's eyes flickered back and forth between Isabella and Pamela, panic churning quietly beneath her composed exterior. Since childhood, Isabella had endured relentless verbal and physical abuse from their stepfather, scars that left her tongue tied in moments like this. No one understood that fragile, cornered look better than Natalie, and the sight of it twisted painfully in her chest.

Still, the Evans family had no idea—nor would they likely care—about Isabella's traumas.

Out of nowhere, a sudden weight pressed down on Natalie's shoulder.

Nathaniel stood beside her, his gaze glinting with lazy amusement, silently warning her to stay where she was and not ruin his entertainment.

A faint crease formed between Natalie's brows as she subtly leaned away, trying to put even a sliver of distance between them.

Unfazed, Nathaniel lifted a brow, and then slipped his hand beneath her coat with deliberate boldness, his warm palm settling firmly against her waist, holding her in place with quiet, undeniable control.

Unaware of the quiet intrusion, Natalie kept her eyes fixed on Isabella the entire time, drawn to her fragile, trembling presence.

Breaking the tension, the composed and distant Alexander, seated nearby, spoke in an unhurried tone. "There was no mistake—that plate number used to be mine. Nathaniel wanted it, so I handed it over."

Caught off-guard, Natalie turned to the man abruptly, her breath hitching.

Was Alexander actually stepping in for Isabella?

What possible reason could he have for doing that?

No matter how she turned it over, Natalie refused to believe a man like Alexander possessed any real kindness, nor could she imagine that a single night together would stir even the faintest attachment toward her sister.

Though his voice remained level and detached, Alexander's words rippled through the room like a stone cast into still water, quietly redirecting the blame and easing the weight pressing down on Isabella, suggesting the fault did not rest solely on her shoulders.

Pamela's sharp, assessing gaze drifted from Isabella to her eldest son, a trace of silent questioning in her eyes.

Beside him, Isabella also stared at Alexander in a stunned haze.

A sharp sting rose in her nose, and she quickly lowered her head, blinking hard to keep the tears from spilling.

For a brief moment, Pamela fell silent in thought.

Ordinarily, girls from families like theirs would never have entered her consideration. Still, her mother-in-law, Celine Evans, was critically ill, and more than anything, Celine longed to see Alexander settled and married before her time was up.

Finding a bride willing to go along with their family's demand—getting pregnant before the wedding—was no easy task.

After digging around for a while, Pamela finally found the Brown family.

Natalie struck her as sharp and levelheaded. With the right polish, Pamela believed the girl could be shaped into a presentable Mrs. Evans for Alexander, her proud eldest son.

In Pamela's eyes, a household like the Evans family, standing where they did now, benefited far more from a compliant daughter-in-law than from some strategic marriage alliance.

Daughters raised in powerful, wealthy families were usually spoiled from birth, and Pamela knew that if she tried to rein them in, they would only grow bitter and rebellious.

She had always believed Alexander's ambitions did not need a woman to prop them up. What he needed was a wife who listened.

For that reason, Pamela approved of Natalie. When Natalie suggested that Isabella be married into the Evans family as well, Pamela agreed after some consideration.

To Pamela, Isabella's soft, yielding nature made her the perfect choice to smooth out Nathaniel's unruly temperament.

The thought of training two daughters-in-law herself delighted Pamela, and that satisfaction made her decision come easily.

Then her sharp eyes settled on Natalie. "You know I picked you for Alex from the start. This wasn't the outcome I wanted. But since you and Nathan have already... Your marrying Alex is no longer possible. Are you willing to marry Nathan instead?"

At her waist, the hand resting there tightened just enough to feel like a quiet threat. Natalie lifted her eyes and met Nathaniel's teasing, unreadable stare.

She had a strong feeling the man was doing this on purpose, just to toy with her again.

Drawing in a slow breath, she forced down the storm of emotion twisting through her chest.

With things having reached this point, remaining with the Evans family was her only real choice, and it was still far better than being dragged back to the Brown family.

As for her future husband, without any feelings involved, it made no difference to her.

"I am," Natalie remarked, lifting her chin and meeting Pamela's gaze with quiet, steady resolve. "I'll accept the Evans family's decision and marry Nathaniel."

Approval flickered in Pamela's eyes, and she gave a small nod. "Very well."

"Mrs. Evans, about my sister…" Natalie brought up cautiously.

At once, Pamela's face turned even colder. "What's done is done. We'll see whether Alex is willing to keep her."

Off to the side, Isabella cautiously looked toward Alexander when she heard that.

What he had said that morning echoed in her mind—"And what makes you think I would take the time to teach you?"

A faint chill ran through Isabella. She was still afraid of Alexander, yet deep down, she desperately wanted to stay. Would he agree?

"She'll stay," Alexander said curtly, his gaze brushing over Isabella's strained, uneasy face without the slightest trace of warmth.

In an instant, the tight knot in Isabella's chest loosened. Her fingertips pressed quietly into her palm as she lowered her head, trying to conceal the tears shimmering at the edge of her eyes.

Rising to her feet with crisp authority, Pamela spoke in a tone that brooked no resistance. "Since everything's settled, Isabella will marry Alex, and Natalie will be with Nathan. But remember what I told you—Alex is already past thirty."

Her sharp gaze shifted to Isabella as she added coolly, "You need to conceive as soon as possible. Now that you're with Alex, I'll be holding you to a higher standard. If you can't even stand beside your husband at social events, then you can start preparing for a divorce within three months."

A subtle tremor ran through Isabella's delicate shoulders, barely visible beneath her composure, as she lowered her eyes and answered softly, "Understood, Mrs. Evans… I'll work hard to learn."

Upon seeing her fragile attempt to stay steady, Alexander's expression dimmed almost imperceptibly, a shadow crossing his gaze, though he chose to remain silent.

Some of the sharpness drained from Pamela's face, her tone easing now that she'd made her point. "Once the marriage is registered, you'll officially be part of the Evans family."

…

Stepping out of the Evans Estate, the two newly formed couples parted ways, each heading toward their own waiting car.

With quiet precision, Alexander pulled open the rear door for Isabella, his movements composed and unhurried. Offering a quiet thanks, she slipped inside and instinctively pressed herself toward the window, shrinking into the corner.

Through the glass, her gaze clung to the car ahead, knowing her sister sat inside it, bound for the same destination—the courthouse.

Drawing in a slow breath, Isabella tried to anchor herself, silently repeating that as long as her sister was near, she didn't have to be afraid.

Yet the thought lingered stubbornly in her chest. Three months… could she truly endure it?

Breaking through the suffocating quiet, Alexander's low, measured voice cut in without warning, "I'll be back tonight."

Startled, she turned toward him, her wide eyes colliding with his unreadable expression.

Memories of his overwhelming dominance the night before flashed through her mind, and she caught her lower lip between her teeth before giving a small nod. "I understand," she murmured.

A dull soreness lingered in her legs, refusing to fade.

Nothing about last night had been gentle; when she had tried to pull away, he had simply tightened his grip, holding her firmly in place.

Her struggling only seemed to annoy him, and in the end, he had flipped her over, pressing her down against the sheets, trapping her beneath him.

The urgency of conceiving within three months made it certain—he'd spend another night with her.

Fear crept unmistakably across her pale features. That same expression reminded Alexander of how she had trembled beneath him, her soft, broken sounds echoing faintly in his memory, and his throat moved subtly as he swallowed.

Even so, when he spoke, his tone came out unexpectedly even. "There's no need to look like that," he muttered coolly. "If getting pregnant within three months isn't what you want, we can stay in separate rooms."

At once, panic surged through Isabella, tightening her chest. "I do want it," she blurted quickly. "I really do… You can come back every night if you want."

"I'm not the kind of person who acts on every urge." The tightness in Alexander's demeanor eased, her response clearly landing as intended. "As soon as there's an opening, I'll take you along to some gatherings."

Returning to his usual detached composure, his voice remained steady, almost indifferent. "Focus on improving yourself. The Evans family has no place for someone who contributes nothing."

…

Meanwhile, inside Nathaniel's car, the mood shifted into something far more charged.

Once Natalie settled into her seat and exhaled a quiet breath, he immediately leaned in, his tall frame boxing her in as a teasing grin tugged at his lips.

"So it looks like you're the one I ended up marrying," he drawled.

Instead of responding, Natalie simply turned her eyes toward him.

Unbothered by her silence, Nathaniel continued with a lazy chuckle, "Tell me—out of everything we tried last night, which way did you like best?"

Confusion flickered through her as she compared the two Evans brothers in her mind, unable to reconcile how they could be so utterly different. "The driver is still here," she whispered.

A crooked smile spread across Nathaniel's face as he tilted his head. "Relax. He's married too. You really think he doesn't know what happens between a man and his wife? Besides, you were pretty bold last night, weren't you? You had no trouble getting my clothes off."

Drawing her brows together, Natalie shot him a sharp look. "I thought you were Alexander Evans," she retorted. "I was only fulfilling what I believed was my responsibility as his future wife."

Nathaniel's fingers traced along the curve of her jaw, his touch unhurried. "Tell me, what's the real difference? Being with me still counts as you playing the role of a future wife, doesn't it?"

Tilting her face away from his hand, she answered coolly, "With you, it feels more like indulging your own entertainment."

At that, his posture shifted; the playful edge in his demeanor receded as he straightened, something sharper settling in his gaze.

Fixing her with a steadier look, he said, "You're hoping to get pregnant, aren't you? If that's the goal, then keeping me entertained is part of the deal, so you'd better start getting used to it."

A deliberate bite edged his tone as he added, "My mother's already impatient for a grandchild."

In his mind, Natalie was no different from the many women who had tried to win his favor before; the only reason he lingered in conversation now was because she still held a trace of novelty.

Interest, however, was something he could discard just as quickly.

Even though she had been his first, that fact carried little weight for him—it had happened only because his mother insisted he share a bed with his future wife.

Left to his own inclinations, he would never have chosen to touch her at all.

An unspoken irritation tightened Nathaniel's jaw as he said flatly, "I won't be coming back tonight."

Unease flickered between Natalie's brows, already sensing that the more she brought up pregnancy, the more stubbornly he pushed back.

Keeping her voice steady, she replied, "All right… just tell me when you plan to return."

Nathaniel's features tightened, flickering with irritation. "I don't feel like seeing you for a while. Don't expect me back for at least a week."

Her lips pressed into a thin line, though her tone remained composed. "Got it."

Their voices fell away, leaving only a tense hush.

After a long, restless minute, Nathaniel suddenly lashed out, his foot slamming against the car door. "Pull over. Tell Alexander to handle things for me—I'm not going to the marriage registration myself."

Without hesitation, the driver steered the vehicle to the roadside and brought it to a stop. "Mr. Evans, if you don't appear in person for the registration…"

"They'll manage without me." With a careless flick of his wrist, Nathaniel tossed his identification onto the seat, already shifting toward the door. Yet even as he stepped out, Nathalie didn't call out once or try to hold him there.

Irritation deepened, settling heavily across his features.

In his mind, Natalie became even more dull, utterly devoid of anything worth his attention.

Just as he started to swing the door shut, a whisper drifted from the back seat, so soft and fleeting that anyone less sharp than him would have missed it.

"What a lunatic!" she muttered.

Before he could even slam his foot against the car again, the vehicle had already surged forward and sped away from the curb.

Lunatic?

That woman actually had some nerve, insulting him to his face like that!

In a sudden surge of anger, Nathaniel nearly decided to call off the marriage on the spot.

Then he shoved a hand into his pocket, only for his expression to stiffen. His phone was still in the car.

He glanced at Alexander's vehicle behind them, thinking he could stop it and speak to his brother face-to-face. But in the very next moment, Alexander's car accelerated without hesitation and swept right past him.

Inside the courthouse, Natalie made her way to Alexander, her composure firmly in place. "Mr. Evans, your brother told me to handle the registration on my own and asked you to take care of the rest."

Alexander had already seen this coming. The sight of Nathaniel's car pulling off so abruptly earlier had already told him his brother was stirring trouble again.

With a controlled sigh, he remarked, "He's been reckless since he was a kid. I'll deal with him when I get the chance. And you don't need to be so formal—just use my name. We're family now."

Once he finished speaking, Alexander turned smoothly toward Isabella, his posture composed as he offered his hand. "Let's head inside first."

Lingering where she stood, Isabella pressed her lower lip between her teeth, her gaze drifting anxiously to Natalie. It was only their first day dealing with the marriage, yet Nathaniel was already treating her sister with such careless disregard…

Alexander's steady voice cut through her thoughts, grounding her. Startled, Isabella glanced down at the hand extended toward her. After a brief hesitation, she placed her own into his, her fingers tentative as she allowed him to guide her forward.

A faint warmth crept into her cheeks. Never before had a man held her hand so openly—especially not in front of Natalie.

Shaking off the fluster, she forced the feeling down. After everything that had already happened between them, this gesture meant nothing more than courtesy.

Drawing in a steady breath, she lengthened her stride, hurrying to keep pace beside him.

The whole procedure felt almost unreal. By the time she realized it, the paperwork was already done.

Somewhere deep inside, it still hadn't settled—she was married now, bound to a man she barely understood.

Casting him a cautious glance, Isabella saw Alexander slip his phone away before turning his cool gaze toward her. "You and your sister can ride together. The driver will take you home. I've got an engagement tonight, so I'll be back late."

"All right… understood, Mr. Evans."

After a brief pause, Alexander spoke in a low, measured tone. "You might want to rethink how you address me. It sounds off."

Isabella felt her fingertips tremble faintly at his words, her head dipping as unease curled through her.

In her mind, the word "honey" felt even more unnatural, almost impossible to say aloud, so she kept her lips sealed.

His cool gaze flicked over the subtle flush coloring her earlobes, and without adding another word, he turned on his heel and walked away.

From where she stood, Isabella watched his tall figure recede into the distance. Only after he vanished from sight did she let out a slow, shaky breath.

When she lifted her head again, Natalie was already walking toward her.

"Natalie…" she called softly, the name slipping out with a slight, unfamiliar trace of hurt.

Natalie's gaze dropped to Isabella's hand, still clenched tightly around the strap of her bag, before she reached out and gently wrapped her hand around her sister's. "Come on. Let's get my marriage registered too."

A quick, eager nod came from Isabella, her lashes damp as a gentle flush crept into her eyes.

Keeping close at Natalie's side, she caught her sister's gentle voice drifting over again.

"I honestly don't see anything wrong with this," Natalie said softly, glancing at her. "Bella, you're here with me while I register the marriage. Even if it's arranged like this, it still feels… meaningful to me."

Emotion surged through Isabella as she wiped her tears in a rush, her voice bright despite the tremor. "Of course—I'll stay with you no matter what, always."

While Natalie moved through the formalities, the clerk looked up and spoke in a routine tone. "Miss Brown, you'll need to sign on behalf of your future husband as well."

Off to the side, Isabella watched in silence as her sister lowered her pen and wrote Nathaniel's name in the spouse column, each stroke steady and assured, stirring a complicated mix of pride and unease in her chest.

Deep down, Isabella found herself wishing she could conceive as soon as possible; she resolved to follow Alexander's every expectation, believing that even if she never earned his affection, she could at least avoid becoming someone he resented. She believed only then could she protect her sister for once.

Inside the car, Isabella clasped her sister's hand and longed to ask whether Natalie had suffered any mistreatment the night before, but Natalie only met her eyes and gave her a subtle, steady look that told her to stay silent.

Now that they had just married into the Evans family, the servants surrounded them on all sides, and anything they said could easily find its way back to Pamela or Alexander.

Natalie understood better than anyone how careful they had to be, so all she could do was soothe her sister and quietly guide her, hoping Isabella would slowly learn how to stay calm.

When it was time to separate, Natalie pulled her into a soft, brief hug. "Go home."

Just as Isabella was about to nod, Natalie leaned closer and murmured in a voice meant for her ears alone, "Nathaniel isn't all that smart. I can deal with him without much trouble. And even if Alexander scares you, don't keep letting him control everything between you in the bedroom. You need to learn to make the first move too."

For a split second, Isabella froze in shock, but before she could respond, Natalie had already let her go.

Back at Alexander's mansion, Isabella stood in the silent, empty living room and suddenly had no idea where she belonged.

...

Near eleven that night, Alexander still hadn't come back.

Fresh from her shower, Isabella perched tensely at the edge of the bed.

Earlier, a maid had guided her into the spacious walk-in closet, where she'd discovered rows of neatly arranged outfits—clearly prepared for her in advance. While deciding what to wear, color rose to her face the moment she reached for something a little too bold.

Delicate, barely-there straps clung to her shoulders, as if they might slip free with the slightest movement, while the silky hem barely skimmed the tops of her thighs.

Fatigue gradually crept in as she sat there waiting for too long, and eventually she eased herself back against the mattress, pulling the covers close.

The click of the door broke the stillness. Stepping inside, Alexander caught sight of the figure nestled beneath the covers. His hand lifting toward his tie paused mid-motion.

A fleeting thought crossed his mind—he was already married.

Hearing him, Isabella pushed herself upright.

Soft pink silk draped over her slender frame, the fabric hugging her waist before falling loosely, while one delicate strap had already slid off her shoulder, exposing a delicate curve of skin that seemed almost too fragile to touch.

As he drew closer to the bed, Alexander's tall silhouette swallowed her in shadow, echoing the suffocating weight he'd pinned her with the night before.

Under the intensity of his gaze, Isabella instinctively stilled, her breath catching in her throat.

"Still awake?" he murmured, his low voice roughened by fatigue, carrying a quiet rasp that lingered in the air.

After a fleeting glance into his eyes, she quickly dropped her gaze, fingers tightening slightly against the sheets.

A light, unexpected brush grazed her cheek, prompting her to look up—his loosened tie swayed lazily, the silk grazing her skin as he bent over her.

With unhurried attention, his eyes traced over her—lingering on the fallen strap at her shoulder, and then drifting down to her legs drawn together in nervous tension.

Curling a finger beneath the delicate strap, he adjusted it, his voice calm and detached. "I've had a few drinks tonight. Probably not the best time to try for a baby."

At those words, Isabella went still, the realization settling in that all her waiting had meant nothing.

Leaning in close, he lowered his voice near her ear. "But tonight, I'm in the mood. Is that alright?"

Warm breath grazed her skin, sending a ripple of involuntary shivers down her spine.

Faced with the question, she realized it hardly felt like one she could refuse.

Heat crept across her cheeks as she murmured softly, "Yes… that's fine…"

Lowering himself without hesitation, he claimed her lips in a steady, unyielding kiss. Fingers curled into the sheets beneath her as she hesitated, unsure where to place her hands.

…

By the time the night thinned into the early hours, exhaustion weighed so heavily on Isabella that even lifting a finger felt impossible. Relief flickered through her as Alexander gathered her up and carried her into the bathroom to clean her up.

Caught off guard, she blinked at his unexpected gentleness.

Curled against him beneath the covers later, Isabella felt the steady warmth of his chest at her back, her heavy eyelids beginning to droop as sleep crept in.

Out of nowhere, Alexander broke the hush. "What did you do today?" Following the sex, his voice carried a relaxed, almost lazy ease.

The question threw her for a moment, and she instinctively steadied her breathing before answering, "I… I didn't really do anything."

When he offered no response, she hurried to fill the silence, adding, "The house is so big… I just wandered around, trying to get familiar with everything."

An acknowledgment came from him, brief and unreadable, and the room slipped back into silence.

Natalie's earlier words echoed in her mind, urging her forward, yet uncertainty held her back.

Searching for something to say, she found herself at a loss, unable to bridge the distance between them despite sharing the same bed.

After a moment's hesitation, she finally spoke again, her voice soft and cautious. "Tomorrow… is there anything you'd like me to do, Mr. Evans?"

Alexander's breath traced lightly along her nape, close enough to feel. "Be ready at nine. You'll go to the hospital with my mother to visit my grandmother. I'll meet you at my parents' place."

"Okay."

"When you're in front of my grandmother, don't call me 'Mr. Evans.'"

Within his embrace, Alexander sensed how rigid she stayed, her slight frame unmoving, almost childlike in its restraint.

Considering the age gap between them, he found it absurd—he was twelve years older than Isabella, so of course she might have issues bringing herself to call him "honey."

Silence stretched between them, and just as he started to pull his hand away, preparing to settle back and sleep, her delicate arm slid around his, drawing it gently against her warm skin.

"Honey… Would it be alright if I called you that?" she whispered.