Chapter 487

Evelyn Carter felt the world spinning around her.

She forced her eyes open, Alexander Hamilton's face swimming in her blurred vision.

"Can you stand?"

She shook her head, pressing her burning forehead into his palm. His brows furrowed at the feverish heat.

In the next moment, she was wrapped in his warm coat and lifted off the ground.

The night wind slapped her face. Instinctively, she burrowed deeper into his chest.

"Mr. Hamilton."

Leonard Laurent stood at the hotel entrance, his gaze darting between them.

"Is Lydia feeling unwell?"

Alexander angled his body away from the outstretched hand. "Not Lydia."

Only then did Leonard recognize the woman in his arms—her hair loosely tied, cheeks flushed with fever, body limp against Alexander's shoulder.

"Who is—"

"Excuse me."

Alexander strode past him. Leonard hurried after them. "Do you need help? My driver's nearby."

"No."

Leonard persisted. "This lady is—"

"Mine."

The single word froze Leonard in place.

Alexander reached the car. "Open the passenger side."

Fumbling, Leonard pulled the door open, watching as Alexander settled her inside with the care reserved for fragile porcelain.

Evelyn weakly clutched his collar. "Where—"

"Hospital." He pried her fingers loose. "Stay still."

Spotting Leonard nearby, she jolted slightly awake. "Mr. Hamilton... my apologies for troubling you."

Her voice was raw and broken.

Alexander scoffed. "Now you play the stranger?"

Her eyes flashed a warning.

"Mr. Laurent," Alexander shut the car door, "we'll reschedule our meeting."

Leonard hesitated. "This lady seems familiar—"

"Light's green."

The black sedan sped away.

Silence filled the car, broken only by labored breathing.

Curled in the seat, Evelyn suddenly spoke. "You should've put me in the back."

"Why?"

"The front seat..." She paused. "Lydia might mind."

Alexander slammed the brakes.

"Evelyn," he ground out, "has the fever fried your brain?"

She turned to the window. "Just reminding you of boundaries."

"There's nothing between Lydia and me!"

"But others think otherwise." Her voice grew faint. "That was Lydia's father, wasn't it?"

Alexander restarted the car. "So you'd rather suffer than drop the act?"

"It's basic courtesy—"

A coughing fit cut her off.

Alexander's face darkened. He floored the accelerator.

"Hold on. The hospital's close."

Evelyn shook her head weakly. "Not emergency... pulmonary department..."

"You're choosing specialties now?"

"I'm a doctor... I know..."

Her words dissolved into whimpers.

Alexander grasped her icy hand. "Stop talking."

In the rearview mirror, Leonard had long disappeared.

Yet Evelyn knew—some doors, once opened, could never be closed again.