Chapter 60

Alexander Hamilton's hand hovered in the air, fingers trembling slightly. He slowly withdrew it, his voice low. "I was just worried you'd get hurt."

"I'm fine." Evelyn Carter's gaze shifted past him to Vivian Dempsey and Gregory Wilson rushing over. "My friends are here."

Vivian sprinted to her side, eyes scanning the ground. Seeing no blood, she exhaled in relief and steadied Evelyn's arm. "Where are you hurt?"

Evelyn shook her head gently. "Vivian, I don't think we're having dinner here today."

"We should've listened to you and avoided this damn place." Vivian gritted her teeth. "What rotten luck."

"Yeah."

"Can you walk?"

Evelyn tested her ankle, wincing slightly.

Without hesitation, Gregory knelt. His fingers barely brushed her skirt before Evelyn stopped him. "Let's just leave. We're blocking the way."

Gregory stood, studying her pale face for a moment. Then he swept her into his arms and strode toward the sidewalk. Vivian hurried after them, shooting Alexander a glare over her shoulder.

At the curb, Gregory showed no intention of putting her down. He murmured something to Vivian, who immediately dashed to the parking lot. Moments later, her bright red sedan screeched to a halt beside them.

Gregory carefully settled Evelyn into the backseat before sliding in beside her. The car sped away, leaving only a crimson blur in its wake.

"Sir?" A waitress panted as she approached. "Your wife says she has stomach pains. She asked for you."

Alexander turned mechanically. Annabelle Taylor lounged on a sofa, surrounded by half a dozen fawning servers. She sipped water leisurely, her face devoid of any discomfort.

From the distance, a driver shouted, "Hey! What about our compensation?"

Alexander numbly handed over a business card. "Send the repair bills to this address."

"CEO of Hamilton Group?" The driver's eyes widened before twisting into a sneer. "No wonder you can afford two women."

Another driver gasped. "Wait—wasn't she the one who killed that traffic cop in the drunk driving accident last week?"

"Shouldn't she be in jail? How'd she get out?"

"Rich people play by different rules..."

"This needs to go viral. I'm recording this..."

The tide of murmurs swelled around him. Alexander hastily settled the claims, promising additional hush money to disperse the crowd.

Traffic gradually resumed. The queue reformed at the restaurant entrance. Servers returned to work—except those still trapped by Annabelle's whims.

As Alexander trudged over, he caught a server's tearful plea:

"Ma'am, we'll prepare our best private room immediately!"

"Your meal is complimentary today!"

"You'll never need reservations again..."

Annabelle crossed her legs, savoring her water while ignoring the desperation around her. Spotting Alexander, she smirked. "Alexander, my stomach hurts so much."