Chapter 569

The hallway lights cast a sterile glow, making the walls appear even colder.

Alexander Hamilton stood before his own door, fingertips brushing the icy lock before withdrawing. He glanced toward Evelyn Carter’s slightly ajar door, a flicker of hope in his eyes.

Evelyn stood inside with her arms crossed, all traces of sleepiness gone. Her tone was clinical. "Call the property manager or a locksmith. Someone should still be on duty at this hour."

She wouldn’t give him another opening.

Alexander lowered the hand braced against the doorframe. Noting she hadn’t immediately shut him out, he ventured carefully, "My phone’s locked inside."

"Use mine." She thrust her phone toward him without hesitation.

"I don’t know the locksmith’s number." His laugh was humorless. "And at this time—"

"Spare key?" she cut in.

"Don’t have one."

"Someone like you wouldn’t keep a spare?"

"Really don’t."

A gust of wind swept through the hallway, plastering his loungewear to his frame. His complexion was turning pale.

Evelyn’s lips curled. "Last time in the capital, I softened and let you in. How did that end?"

Alexander rubbed his temples. "I’m injured, freezing, and my head’s pounding. At least let me talk inside?"

Her gaze swept over his thin clothing before she turned and disappeared into the apartment.

Alexander remained rooted in place.

Moments later, Evelyn returned with her wallet and a fleece blanket.

"Choose. Hotel or hallway bench."

"No ID."

"Then bench plus blanket." She moved to shut the door.

Alexander shuddered violently. "You’d really make me sleep out here?"

"Absolutely."

His damp hair trembled in the cold draft. "Just...one night?"

Evelyn studied him. "How do I know this isn’t another act?"

"I swear." His voice shook. "One night. I’ll take the couch."

A Ragdoll cat peeked around Evelyn’s ankles, observing them with feline curiosity.

Finally, she stepped aside. "In. Cross the line and you’re out."

Alexander hurried inside, exhaling in relief.

The cat’s tail brushed his ankle.

Evelyn pointed to the sofa. "Your territory. Fix your lock tomorrow."

She turned on her heel. The bedroom door slammed shut behind her.

Alexander arranged the throw pillows. As he opened his mouth to ask for a blanket, the deadbolt clicked audibly.

He lay down with a wry smile. The couch was too short, the blanket too thin, and cold air seeped through the balcony cracks.

In her cat bed, the Ragdoll stretched and purred contentedly.

At 3 AM, Alexander finally sat up, defeated. Dragging stiff legs to the bedroom door, he knocked gently. "Evelyn...a blanket?"

The knob didn’t budge.