Chapter 310

The notification pinged on Evelyn's screen as she was wrapping up her work.

[Victoria: Fancy a quick match before you log off?]

[Alexander: Actually heading out now. Rain check?]

[Victoria: How about coffee at the Monarch Grand's lobby café instead?]

Ten minutes later, Evelyn stepped into the serene café on the third floor.

The space was unusually empty. Alexander Whitmore sat alone by the panoramic windows, his silhouette gilded by the golden sunset. The light caught the sharp angles of his profile, making him look almost ethereal.

"Mr. Whitmore."

Evelyn approached, her heels clicking softly against the marble. "When did you arrive? You should've come straight to my office."

"I heard you were swamped today." He turned with a lazy smile, removing his glasses. "Didn't want to interrupt. Just got back to Crestview and thought I'd wait here until you finished."

His phone screen lit up as he tilted it toward her. "Logged into the game and saw you online. Figured I'd shoot my shot."

"Let me get you a drink. My treat."

Evelyn felt a pang of guilt. His thoughtfulness was almost disarming—showing up unannounced yet considerate enough not to disrupt her schedule.

"Actually..." Alexander leaned back, the leather couch creaking softly. "I'm on my fourth espresso. But I wouldn't say no to dinner." His smile turned playful. "Haven't had proper Crestview cuisine since I left for Serenia. Indulge me?"

She couldn't refuse—not when he'd waited so patiently. "Of course. The Monarch's chef does an incredible braised lamb shank."

Evelyn signaled Theodore to prepare their finest private dining room.

Dinner flowed effortlessly between shared laughs and easy conversation. Alexander had a way of making even mundane topics sparkle with wit.

Outside, Theodore lingered by the door, jaw tight. The sound of Evelyn's laughter—bright and unguarded—twisted something in his chest.

He distrusted Nathan Blackwood, but Alexander unsettled him more.

It wasn't jealousy. Theodore respected Evelyn's autonomy completely.

But some people carried shadows beneath their charm. Alexander's smiles were too polished, his arrivals too unpredictable. Even Evelyn couldn't anticipate his movements.

That man was a storm wrapped in velvet.

"The lamb was exquisite." Alexander dabbed his mouth with a linen napkin. "Though I'd expect nothing less from Monarch's kitchens. Thank you for this, Evelyn."

"My pleasure. I've owed you since the incident at the gala." Her voice softened. "You saved my life that night."

His fingers brushed hers as he reached for his wineglass. "And a single dinner settles that debt?"

Alexander tilted forward suddenly, close enough that Evelyn caught the faint scent of sandalwood. Moonlight through the windows turned his eyes to liquid silver.

Her breath hitched.

Then two tickets materialized in his palm.

"Sebastian Laurent's debut Crestview concert." His thumb traced the embossed date. "Tonight at seven. Join me?"

Evelyn blinked. The request—delivered with that disarming smile—felt like a chess move disguised as courtesy.

Alexander held perfectly still, watching her. When he spoke again, his voice was a low murmur. "You wouldn't deny your rescuer this small favor, would you, Ms. Carter?"

The question hung between them, threaded with unspoken challenge.