Chapter 213

Nathan Evans ignored everything.

He strode straight toward the staircase.

Dylan Lowell hurried after him, gripping his shoulder. "Nathan, stop this. Let's go back. Evelyn won't open the door."

"I have something to give her."

Dylan froze. "What?"

Nathan pulled out a tube of allergy cream from his pocket. "This season always triggers her allergies."

Dylan's eyes burned unexpectedly.

How had two people who loved each other so deeply ended up like this?

"Right," Nathan nodded, voice thick. "I came to deliver this... must give it to her..."

Before he could finish, his vision darkened. His body went limp, collapsing forward.

Dylan barely caught him, dragging him toward the waiting SUV.

He exhaled heavily at the sight of the vehicle parked at the alley's entrance.

By the time they reached the estate, it was 1 AM.

The housekeeper gasped as Dylan staggered inside. "Help me! And brew some hangover soup."

After barking orders, he turned to leave.

Chloe Valentine jolted awake at the commotion.

Clutching her robe, she descended the stairs—her dreams of wealth outweighing sleep deprivation.

"Let me help him." She reached for Nathan.

The housekeeper hesitated. "Madam, your condition—"

"I'm fine." Chloe insisted, taking his weight.

The moment she did, his dead weight nearly toppled her.

"Wait!" She yelped, flustered. "You'd better take him."

After gulping water, Nathan regained slight awareness.

Chloe knelt before him, eyes gleaming. "Baby—"

His icy glare cut her off.

She instantly corrected herself. "Nathan, are you feeling better?"

"Move."

Chloe stiffened.

"Need it spelled out?"

Tears welled. "Nathan, I'm scared..."

His expression remained stone. "Don't make me repeat myself."

Biting her lip, she stepped aside.

He marched upstairs without a backward glance.

Swallowing humiliation, Chloe forced a smile at the housekeeper. "He's just drunk. Prepare the soup—I'll deliver it personally."

In the master bedroom, Nathan leaned against the door.

Evelyn's tear-streaked face flashed behind his eyelids.

His hand dove into his pocket—

The cream was gone!

He tore through his clothes, ransacked the downstairs, then finally collapsed behind the sofa.

Kneeling there, the billionaire sobbed like a lost child.