Chapter 143

The backyard was cloaked in shadows as Maxwell Kingsley stormed toward his Lamborghini, his expression colder than the night air.

"Maxwell!"

Evelyn Carter sprinted after him, breathless. She seized his arm. "Where are you going?"

"As far away from this place as possible." His voice was sharp, edged with bitterness. "Better yet, maybe I should never come back."

He turned, revealing the angry red mark on his cheek—a stark reminder of the earlier confrontation.

"You always said Sebastian, Dominic, and I mattered most to you," Evelyn whispered, her grip tightening. "This is your home. How can you just leave?"

Maxwell's dark eyes bore into hers. He lifted a hand, brushing his thumb gently over her cheek. "You'll always be in my heart, no matter where I am. The world is my home." His lips curved into a sardonic smile. "I kept my promise, Evelyn. So you can't be angry with me anymore, right?"

She nodded, her throat tightening.

"If you truly want Harrison to live longer," he added, his tone hardening, "don't ask me to see him again. I have duties to return to. I'll see you when I can."

"Maxwell!"

Lillian Hartwell hurried toward them, clutching a small bag.

Maxwell stiffened slightly before murmuring, "Aunt Lillian."

Her eyes were red-rimmed as she pressed the bag into his hands. "Here. Some of our family's newest medicines—some for external use, some oral. They might help." She forced a smile. "Camille packed snacks too. She worries you'll get hungry on the road."

A flicker of emotion crossed Maxwell's face. "Thank you," he said softly, "but I have everything I need. Don't worry about me."

With that, he pulled Evelyn into a brief embrace and strode to his car.

The Lamborghini roared to life, its taillights vanishing into the night.

Evelyn and Lillian stood in silence, the weight of the moment pressing down on them.

"Let him go, Aunt Lillian," Evelyn murmured, squeezing her shoulder. "He's changed. The old Maxwell would never have been this restrained. Give him time."

Lillian's eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "He pities me, Evelyn. He doesn’t need to. I’ve moved on."

Evelyn swallowed hard.

Two years ago, tragedy had struck the Kingsley family.

Lillian's eldest son, Henry Kingsley—Evelyn's fifth brother—had been the chief captain of Crestview Airways. When flight EVA676 malfunctioned, he made the impossible choice to land in the ocean, saving 150 passengers.

Henry never surfaced. He drowned on his 27th birthday.

Opinions varied, but no one could deny Lillian had raised a hero.

Nathan Blackwood's Maybach sped back toward Crestview.

Oliver Sinclair gripped the wheel, stealing nervous glances at his boss through the rearview mirror.

Nathan's face was ashen, his lips bloodless. His knuckles were white where they clenched the armrest.

"Mr. Blackwood, are you—"

"Just drive." Nathan's voice was raw.

He had come to Fairhaven on impulse, convinced he could make Evelyn submit.

Instead, he had been humiliated beyond measure.

What shattered tonight wasn’t just the jade bracelet—it was the last remnants of his pride.

"With all due respect, sir," Oliver muttered, unable to contain his frustration, "if you want Ms. Carter back, just remind the Kingsleys the divorce isn’t finalized. She’s still legally your wife. Those women had no right to—"

"So you think the only way I can reclaim Evelyn is through legal technicalities?" Nathan's voice was dangerously quiet.

Oliver paled. "No! That’s not what I meant!"