Chapter 277

Evelyn was the type who became completely absorbed in her work when she found something fascinating, losing all sense of time and space.

Suddenly remembering Alexander was still waiting, she turned abruptly to find him standing exactly where she'd left him, his patience unwavering.

A meticulously crafted flower basket now hung from his arm, filled with delicate blush-pink roses that caught the fading sunlight.

The sight made Evelyn recall an old saying: "Flowers don't argue, they just bloom."

"Ms. Carter," Alexander called as he approached, his voice warm like the evening breeze.

Seeing his immaculate attire, Evelyn waved urgently. "Wait! Don't come closer - it's all mud here!"

But Alexander paid no heed, striding purposefully through the thorny undergrowth until he stood before her. Evelyn bit her lip, cheeks flushing at his determination.

"Miss Evelyn, these are for you." Alexander's deep eyes reflected the golden sunset as he offered the basket.

She gave a polite smile but shook her head. "Mr. Whitmore, while I appreciate the gesture, I can't accept these."

Though just flowers, roses carried certain implications. Accepting them would be... complicated.

Alexander anticipated her refusal. "Consider them research specimens," he suggested smoothly. "I noticed your fascination with these Damask roses. The soil beneath is from this very garden - perfect for transplanting to your conservatory. They'll bloom year-round with proper care."

Trapped by his logical explanation, Evelyn hesitated before finally accepting. "Thank you, Mr. Whitmore. For both the gift and the opportunity to study them."

Suddenly, Alexander leaned closer, his chiseled features filling Evelyn's vision. She caught her breath, lashes fluttering like startled butterflies.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, instinctively touching her face. "Do I have dirt..."

He nodded solemnly. "Right there."

Her self-conscious wiping only smeared another streak of mud across her cheek. Now she truly looked a mess.

With infinite patience, Alexander produced a snow-white handkerchief and gently dabbed at her face before she could protest.

"I can-" Evelyn began, but he'd already finished.

"All clean," he murmured, withdrawing just as she started feeling uncomfortable with their proximity. That was Alexander - always knowing exactly when to step back.

For a fleeting moment, Evelyn wondered if his actions held deeper meaning, but quickly dismissed the thought. His kindness likely stemmed from their childhood friendship and his inherently gentle nature.

The sound of approaching footsteps shattered the moment.

Evelyn looked up and froze.

Nathan stood mere paces away, his imposing frame casting a long shadow. His expression revealed nothing, but his eyes burned with an eerie crimson glow.

The calm before the storm.

He'd witnessed everything - Evelyn accepting the roses, her radiant smile, Alexander's tender ministrations. Their easy intimacy played like a haunting melody in Nathan's mind.

His fists clenched until his knuckles turned white beneath his tailored sleeves. Every muscle in his body tensed as a deafening roar filled his skull.

He'd thought she came for the Westridge project. He would have gladly surrendered it all to her. But this? Watching her bestow upon another man what was once his?

This agony was beyond anything he'd imagined.