Chapter 45

The living room stood empty, save for Ethan Sullivan seated alone on the sofa. His long fingers tapped rhythmically against the armrest, his gaze sharp as ice as it landed on Evelyn Sullivan, who had just stepped inside.

Evelyn glanced around, a slight frown forming. William Jackson, that opportunistic man, wouldn’t have missed a chance to cozy up to Ethan.

"Where were you?"

Ethan’s voice turned the air frigid.

The conversation in the garden still echoed in his mind. He had waited, expecting an apology—only for her to vanish without a trace. The fury inside him burned hotter by the second.

"Talking with Grandma," Evelyn replied, taking a seat across from him. "Where’s the rest of the family?"

"Explain what you said in the garden."

She met his blazing eyes calmly. "It meant exactly what it sounded like. Do I need to spell it out?"

"Evelyn!"

"We’re here for dinner," she pressed her lips together. "I don’t want to argue."

Ethan scoffed. "Then watch your mouth."

"Understood."

Silently, she added: Next time, I’ll say it where you can’t hear.

Tension stretched between them.

William hurried in, cradling a bottle of wine with an ingratiating smile. "Mr. Sullivan, this is my prized 1982 Lafite. You simply must indulge tonight."

The dynamic was absurd—a father-in-law fawning over his son-in-law. Evelyn observed with detached indifference.

"I’m driving."

"That’s no issue!" William insisted. "I’ll have the chauffeur take you home. Or you could stay the night."

Ethan’s eyes flickered. "Fine."

At the dining table, William deliberately seated Isabella Jackson to Ethan’s left. Evelyn took the right, watching as Isabella eagerly piled food onto Ethan’s plate.

"Ethan, try these ribs."

"The sticky rice lotus root is our chef’s specialty."

"Ethan..."

Isabella’s voice dripped with saccharine sweetness. Evelyn watched with amusement—Isabella’s gaze practically undressed him.

Then a piece of braised pork landed in Evelyn’s bowl.

"Eat more." Ethan’s tone was casual. "You’re too thin. It’s uncomfortable to hold."

Every pair of eyes at the table snapped toward them. Isabella’s glare was especially venomous—as if she wanted to devour Evelyn alive.