Chapter 216

The man's slender fingers tapped lightly against the window frame as he listened to the report from his subordinate over the phone.

"Iris is dead?" A faint smirk curled at the corner of his lips. "More interesting than I expected."

He ended the call and turned to gaze at the churning waves outside, a shadow of ruthlessness flickering in his eyes.

Evelyn Sullivan thought she would drown.

When the tidal wave crashed over them, she instinctively grabbed Ethan Sullivan's wrist. The violent current swept them toward the shore, stealing the breath from her lungs.

Her fingertips suddenly brushed against rough bark.

Survival instinct took over. She clung to the tree with all her strength. As the water receded, she hung limply from the branches, gasping for air.

Ethan stood a short distance away, his suit soaked through, dark hair plastered to his forehead. The moonlight sharpened the angles of his stern face.

"Can you walk?" His voice was low.

Evelyn nodded and staggered down from the tree. Her legs gave out the moment her feet touched the ground. A strong arm caught her—then released just as quickly.

They walked toward the shore in silence.

"Mr. Sullivan." She spoke suddenly. "Thank you."

Ethan halted mid-step. When he turned, fury burned in his eyes.

"Evelyn." Each word was ice-cold. "For Daniel Sterling, you'd throw your life away?"

She clenched her damp clothes. "It was an emergency—"

"An emergency that made you forget your own limits?" His laugh was harsh. "If I hadn't arrived in time, you'd be dead."

The sea wind lifted her hair, revealing her pale face.

"Next time—"

"There won't be a next time." He cut her off. "If this happens again, I won't lift a finger."

He turned and walked away, his posture rigid. Evelyn stared at the wound on his shoulder from the tree branch, her throat tight.

A faint light glowed halfway up the mountain.

The elderly couple listened to their ordeal before warmly ushering them inside. The old woman rummaged through her belongings and pulled out fresh clothes. "Change into these. Don't catch a cold."

Evelyn accepted the cotton garments, their scent of soap lingering on her trembling fingers.

"You two can sleep here." The old woman smiled as she opened the door. "The blankets are freshly aired."

Ethan didn't correct her assumption. He strode straight into the room. The moment the wooden door closed, the air turned heavy.

"You take the bed." He loosened his collar. "I'll keep watch."

Evelyn glanced at the cracked wooden chair, then murmured, "The bed is big enough."

Moonlight streamed through the window, casting a silver divide between them.