Chapter 284

Julian Roscente detested these lingering attachments.

Dylan Lowell finally relaxed. "At least you have some boundaries..."

"Let go. I'm getting in the car."

"Fine." Dylan released his grip on Julian's sleeve.

Nathan Evans suddenly spoke up.

"You helped her... because of me?"

Julian's hand paused on the car door handle. He turned with a cold smirk. "You're overthinking."

"You two..." Nathan's gaze lingered on Dylan with suspicion. "You've kept in touch with her after our breakup?"

Dylan admitted freely. "Yeah, Evelyn and I stayed in contact. Got a problem?"

Julian narrowed his sharp eyes. "I know what you're implying."

"Whether Dylan kept seeing her or I stepped in to help, you think it's about you."

He paused deliberately. "Let me make this clear—it's about Evelyn Langley herself. Nothing to do with you. Same for Dylan."

Nathan frowned deeply.

"Reason?"

Julian scoffed. "Isn't that how relationships work? She helped us, so we remember the favor."

"You thought she was just arm candy those six years? We hung out two or three times a month. Plenty of chances to know her."

"Take Dylan here. Evelyn fixed his computer, even wrote code for him. Right?"

"Damn right!" Dylan nodded eagerly. "Her programming skills are top-notch. That investment scam last year? She wrote a financial audit program that exposed it."

"And that time—"

As Dylan recounted examples, Nathan grew increasingly unsettled.

This "Evelyn Langley" they described bore no resemblance to the woman he remembered—the one who simply waited at home, managing his domestic life.

Dylan added, "Don't just talk about me. Evelyn helped you too—"

Ahem! Julian cut him off. "Enough. I'm leaving. You two head back."

He swiftly entered the taxi.

"Drive."

......

Evelyn received Julian's message with an editor's contact. She sent a friend request.

Instant approval. An auto-reply appeared:

Hello, please attach your manuscript and contact info for submissions. For business inquiries, call 1372324...

After consideration, Evelyn sent one of Victoria Langley's suspense novels from last year, attaching her phone number.

Night deepened. No reply came.

She remained patient, trusting a response would come.

Meanwhile, Nathan returned to the villa.

Chloe Valentine stood at the entrance as usual, smiling sweetly like a hotel greeter. He had to admire her persistence.

When Chloe reached to steady him, the strong alcohol scent made her recoil slightly.

Nathan summoned Mrs. Watson instead. "Help me upstairs."

In truth, he'd only had two drinks—completely sober. But feigning drunkenness avoided complications.

Mrs. Watson hurried him upstairs before rushing down to prepare hangover soup.

"Mrs. Watson, I hear you've cared for Nathan for years?" Chloe leaned against the kitchen doorway in silk pajamas.

"The kitchen's smoky, Miss Valentine. Perhaps wait in the living room?"

Better yet, stay far away. That voice grates.

Chloe ignored the hint. "You must make this often for him?"

Mrs. Watson didn't look up. "Miss Langley always prepared it. The young master preferred her version."

"......"

When Mrs. Watson turned for a bowl, Chloe quickly sprinkled hidden powder into the pot.