Chapter 407

Alexander Hamilton wrapped his arms around Evelyn Carter's waist from behind, his voice low. "Evelyn, help me change the dressing."

Evelyn froze.

"I'll transfer you another 150?" He pulled out his phone. "I know you don't want to owe me."

She pried his hands away forcefully. "The hospital has professional nurses."

"I only want you."

Evelyn's hand gripped the door handle.

She took a deep breath. "Alexander, let's end this here."

"You're tired? Then I'll go to the Burn Department—"

"I mean between us. It's over."

Alexander's breathing grew ragged. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said." Her voice was calm. "After the divorce, we're strangers. No explanations needed. No meetings necessary."

Silence filled the hospital room.

His chest heaved violently. "What do I need to do for you to forgive me?"

"Nothing." Evelyn turned away. "Give my regards to Margaret."

When she returned to her room, only Vivian Dempsey remained, lounging with her legs crossed while scrolling through her phone.

"The white lotus slipped away," Vivian said with a whistle.

"You chased her off?"

Vivian rolled her eyes. "Do you really think all I do is pick fights?"

"Sorry."

"She wasn't here to visit a patient," Vivian scoffed. "She brought Alexander just to spite you."

Evelyn smiled bitterly. "I figured."

"Too bad for her," Vivian said, swinging her foot. "Alexander only has eyes for you now. Any more schemes will just humiliate her."

"Vivian."

"Yeah?"

"It's been over between us for a long time."

——

The news of her return couldn't stay hidden forever.

Once Teresa Taylor's condition stabilized, Evelyn went home.

"Evelyn?!" Grace Anderson circled her in delight. "You're staying?"

The kitchen soon filled with the aroma of home-cooked food, accompanied by the soft strains of Teresa Teng's "Sweet as Honey."

Andrew Anderson rubbed his teacup. "Just come back safe. All I want is to see you and Emily happy."

"I'll visit more often." Evelyn refilled his cup.

"Did those foreigners give you trouble?" Andrew suddenly asked.

"No."

"Those bastards bully you?"

"My colleagues were all kind," she said lightly. "I just missed home."

Andrew laughed heartily. "Mid-Autumn Festival is for family reunions! What about work?"

"I want to take a break for a while." She paused. "I heard about the demolition?"

The next morning, the demolition team arrived.

Leading them was Fiona Longwell, her nameplate glinting coldly: Longwell Construction.

Not Hamilton Group anymore?

"30 square meters free. Anything beyond that at market price." Fiona's red nails tapped the calculator.

Andrew slammed the table. "We were promised a square-meter exchange!"

"That was Hamilton Group's policy." The woman smiled insincerely. "Small companies like ours can't afford losses."

Evelyn held her father back. "How much for a three-bedroom?"

The calculator clicked. "Five million."

Andrew gasped. "Let's get a smaller one—"

"The smallest is 60 square meters," Fiona said, brushing off her suit. "A one-bedroom. Your daughter would have to sleep on the floor when she visits."

She handed over a business card. "Decide quickly. The offer won't last."