Chapter 860

Alexander Hamilton's hand bore a dark bruise that stood out starkly against his tanned skin.

"Knocked it against the table corner," he said casually, withdrawing his hand to pour a glass of water.

Evelyn Carter studied the injury. Last night, when she fainted, she'd heard a dull thud. Now she realized—he must have slammed into the solid oak table rushing to catch her.

"The doctor said it's low blood sugar." He handed her the water, his fingertips lingering briefly against her palm. "Skip clinic this afternoon."

"I always keep candy in my bag." She took a sip, then froze. She'd eaten breakfast this morning. The sugar cubes were still tucked in her purse.

Alexander's expression darkened. "I'll be right back."

The moment the door clicked shut, Olivia Lightfoot slipped inside like a shadow.

"Dr. Carter!" She locked the door and pulled a lab report from her white coat. "You need to see this first."

Evelyn's fingers trembled slightly as she took the paper.

The HCG level glared back at her in bold three digits.

"I retrieved it directly from the lab." Olivia's voice shook. "Only the night nurse and I know."

The curtains billowed, casting swaying light patterns across the room. Evelyn stared at the number, a dull roar filling her ears.

"Should we tell Mr. Hamilton?" Olivia whispered.

Evelyn crumpled the report. The searing pain of her last miscarriage surged through her, and her hand flew protectively to her abdomen.

"Not a word." Her voice cracked. "I need your help..."

Footsteps echoed in the hallway. Olivia hastily forwarded a falsified digital report to her own phone.

Alexander intercepted her as she tried to slip out.

"Results?"

"Just low blood sugar!" Olivia brandished her phone.

The data looked suspiciously perfect, but Alexander's attention had already shifted to Evelyn feigning sleep on the bed. Her lashes fluttered, casting delicate shadows beneath her eyes.

He discreetly snapped a photo and set it as his chat background.

When Evelyn awoke, she found him watching her. The intensity in his gaze forced her to look away.

"Eleven-thirty." His fingers brushed her hair. "Vivian booked us lunch."

At the fusion restaurant, Bianca Langley was dropping strawberries into champagne flutes.

"You look terrible." Vivian reached to feel Evelyn's forehead. "Could it be—"

Evelyn choked on her lemon water.

Alexander immediately passed her a napkin, his gaze flickering to her flat stomach for the briefest second.