Chapter 417

"I'm certain now." Peter Harrison's voice was icy. "I was nearly done with that project. The team was working perfectly, about to deliver results. And then—I got axed. The whole team stayed intact. Only I was kicked out."

"So?" Evelyn Carter scoffed. "You want me to beg Alexander Hamilton again?"

"I'm going back." Peter enunciated each word. "I don't care how—threats, bribes, whatever. Just get it done."

Evelyn clenched her fists. "You're threatening me with Emily?"

"Exactly." A cold smirk twisted his lips. "After all, everyone thinks I'm a saint. Only you know how rotten I really am."

"At least you're self-aware."

"That idiot Simon Stapleton thought marrying into the Hardy family would skyrocket him?" Peter sneered. "Touching you when Alexander cared the most? Suicide."

"Where is he now?"

"Who knows?" Peter shrugged indifferently. "Probably lost his mind, hiding in some gutter."

Evelyn stared at him, disgusted. "You're utterly heartless."

"Not everyone's born with a silver spoon like Alexander." Peter tapped the table. "Three days. I want that project back. Or else—"

"Three days isn't enough!"

"The project won't wait." He stood, looking down at her. "Evelyn, your sister's still young. The world has more pits than just Celestial Club."

She shut her eyes, chest heaving.

Peter was pure evil, not even bothering to pretend anymore.

But Emily...

——

Exhausted, Evelyn collapsed onto her bed, thoughts tangled.

After pushing Alexander away so many times, now she had to crawl back to him?

Beep—

Her phone lit up.

[Gregory Wilson: Busy?]

Scrolling up, she saw unread messages and photos—a fluffy puppy nuzzling Gregory's hand.

[White Coat's starting to recognize me. If you don't come back soon, he might forget you.]

Evelyn hesitated before replying: [Sorry, just saw this. Been swamped. Thanks for taking care of him.]

[Gregory Wilson: Mrs. Duan's surgery went well. The surgeon was a world-class expert.]

[That's good.]

[Gregory Wilson: Feeling better?]

[Thanks for asking.]

[Gregory Wilson: Free for a video call? Let White Coat see you.]

A follow-up: [Before he really forgets.]

Her finger hovered over the screen.

[Not tonight. Too tired. If he likes you, that's fine.]

[Gregory Wilson: Do I even deserve his affection?]

[You've cared for him so well. Of course he'd rely on you.]

[Gregory Wilson: So if I keep treating her right, she'll trust me?]

The typo—"her"—pricked like a thorn.

Evelyn didn't know how to respond.

[Gregory Wilson: Coming back to the UK?]

[Not sure yet.]

[The apartment's still yours. If you don't return, I'll bring White Coat to you.]

Her mind churned.

[I need rest. Goodnight.]

——

Morning light filtered through the curtains. Evelyn checked her phone.

A message from 3:40 AM: [Sweet dreams.]

——

At the hospital, Teresa Taylor looked healthier.

"The doctor says she's recovering well." Andrew Anderson held his wife's hand, beaming. "Your mom won't admit it, but she's thrilled to see you."

Evelyn handed her a slice of orange. "That's good."

"You seem preoccupied. Mrs. Duan's condition worsening?"

"The surgery succeeded, but she hasn't woken." Evelyn hesitated. "Dad, that friend who lent the plane... Can I have their contact? I want to thank them in person."

Andrew stiffened. "Old friends don't need formalities."

"Was it the Hamiltons?" Evelyn met his gaze. "Or... Alexander?"

The room froze.