Chapter 594

Evelyn Carter tensed at the noise from the kitchen and hurried over to check. Seeing the pots and pans unharmed, she exhaled in relief.

Alexander Hamilton found some comfort in Auntie Wu's words and set down the spatula. "Let's stop here for today. I'll clean up the rest."

"Alright." Auntie Wu untied her apron and hung it up. "Mr. Hamilton, cooking takes patience."

"Thank you." Alexander personally walked her to the door.

Evelyn frowned as she watched him return to clear the table. "It's so late. How could you let Auntie Wu walk alone? I'll call a cab."

Alexander dumped the failed dish into the trash. "No need. She's been staying in my guest room lately. I gave her a key."

"Your place?" Evelyn raised an eyebrow.

"Yes." He looked up. "Is that a problem?"

"...Why would it be?"

"She is a woman."

Evelyn scoffed. "A menopausal one at that."

The teasing in her voice eased the tension in his expression. "Leave this to me. I may not cook well, but I can clean."

"Alexander."

He stood there in an apron, holding a plate, his hair disheveled and smudges—whether from grease or sauce—on his face.

"Yes?"

"All this..." She hesitated. "Didn't we agree to keep things as they are?"

"I want to start over."

He efficiently soaked the dishes in the sink, then wiped down the table. The routine was practiced, as if he'd done it countless times.

Seeing his sincerity, Evelyn couldn't argue further. Eager to rest, she sighed. "You take the kitchen. I'll handle the living room."

"No." He tightened his grip on the rag.

"I learned many useless things for the wrong person. Now that I've found the right one, I should learn what truly matters." His voice was low. "At least to make your life easier."

Evelyn's lashes fluttered. "There's no need to bring up the past."

"Fine." He kept working, changing the subject. "The early stages of your startup are tough. I know how things are at Anderson Group. I wanted to help but worried you'd resent it. So I settled for what I could do."

He pulled on rubber gloves and tackled the mountain of dishes. His employees would be stunned to see their CEO like this.

Evelyn watched his competent movements. "So your idea of helping is playing housekeeper?"

"I wanted you to come home to a hot meal." He was candid. "But practice makes perfect. That goal will take more time."

Evelyn glanced at the "results" in the trash and suggested tactfully, "Leave professional tasks to professionals. I can split the grocery bill."

She still wanted boundaries.

But Alexander was stubborn. "Didn't you say today that it's never too late to learn? If Gregory Wilson can do it, so can I."

He remembered even that incident with the fridge repair.

"Why so quiet?" he pressed.

Evelyn sighed. "Should I warn you not to emulate Gregory? He takes advice. You? Not so much."

He stacked the dried dishes neatly and turned. "I can do everything he can—and more."

"It's late. You should sleep." He checked the time. "This will take a while."

Exhausted, Evelyn nodded. "Lock up when you leave." She headed to her room, locking the door as usual.

Perhaps work stress kept her from resting well. She woke in the middle of the night to pitch darkness outside.

Thirsty, she tiptoed out—only to find the living room lamp on.

Then Alexander's low voice speaking English reached her.

"It's 3 a.m., you—" She froze mid-sentence.

In the dim light, he sat upright on the couch, laptop open, briefcase beside him—as if this were a makeshift office.

Evelyn lingered in the shadows until his call ended. When she approached, her eyes caught the screen—and she stiffened.