Chapter 397

Alexander's Adam's apple bobbed as he spoke in a low voice, "Not the same room as last time."

"..."

"The mountain air is fresh. Evelyn, you need rest now."

Evelyn silently turned her gaze to the window.

Thirty minutes later, the black sedan pulled up in front of the resort hotel halfway up the mountain.

Unlike six months ago, several construction sites now dotted the surroundings.

Alexander stepped out with a thermal container, following her line of sight. "We're expanding the resort. That area will be a children's playground, and over there is planned as a wellness center."

Evelyn withdrew her gaze and walked straight into the lobby.

The Hamiltons' business plans had nothing to do with her.

Yet the word "children" pricked her heart like a needle.

The crisp-uniformed receptionist brightened at the sight of her. "You're—"

Alexander strode over. "Two servings of century egg and pork congee. Quickly."

"Yes, Mr. Hamilton!" The girl immediately dialed the internal line.

As the elevator doors closed, Evelyn noticed her name tag. "Her uniform..."

"Promoted her to manager."

Evelyn arched an eyebrow.

The very employee Annabelle had wanted fired was now promoted.

"Deliberately opposing Annabelle?"

"Just showing you where I stand."

"Since when does the Hamilton Group practice nepotism? Is she qualified to manage an entire hotel?"

"Unhappy?" Alexander pressed the penthouse button. "I can replace her right now."

"That's not what I meant." Evelyn frowned. "You're becoming too emotional."

Alexander gave a bitter smile. "When logic fails, might as well follow your heart."

Ding—

The elevator reached the top floor.

Alexander stepped out briskly. Evelyn reminded him, "The key card."

"The penthouse is now a private residence." He stopped at the end hallway, unlocking it with his fingerprint. "Come see."

Pushing the door open, Evelyn froze.

This was unmistakably...

A perfect replica of their newlywed apartment.

"Everything you left behind that could be salvaged is here." Alexander gestured to the wardrobe. "The clothes were repurchased in the same styles. Only that 'Clinical Medicine Atlas' is out of print."

Evelyn's fingertips traced the bookshelf.

The secondhand shelf she'd bought for ten dollars during grad school still bore the dings from their move.

Now every grain of wood gleamed from meticulous polishing.