Chapter 259

Evelyn Sullivan set down her chopsticks, leaving most of her meal untouched.

"I'm done. I want to go back to Elm Cove now."

Ethan Sullivan didn't look up. "You're not going anywhere until your injuries heal."

"I know my own condition!"

"My answer is no."

Evelyn abruptly stood, her chair scraping loudly against the floor.

"Ethan Sullivan, we're divorced! What right do you have to control me?"

Finally, he lifted his gaze, his eyes icy.

"Because you're living in my house."

"Then I'll leave right now!"

She turned to storm out, but Ethan grabbed her wrist.

"Let go!"

"Stop this," he said darkly. "You know there are still people watching you."

Evelyn wrenched free, her eyes reddening.

"I don't need your fake concern!"

His expression darkened, and without warning, he scooped her into his arms.

"What are you doing?! Put me down!"

She thrashed, pounding her fists against his shoulders.

Ethan paused, glancing down at her.

"Keep struggling, and I'll kiss you."

Evelyn froze, trembling with fury.

"You're shameless!"

He chuckled and carried her toward the bedroom.

"Ethan, what do you want from me?"

"To take care of you."

"I don't want it!"

"Whether you want it or not isn't your decision."

Evelyn bit her lip hard, nails digging into her palms.

"Do you enjoy this? Watching me play the fool while you manipulate me?"

Ethan hesitated.

"I've never thought that."

"Then why won't you let me go?"

He met her eyes, his gaze burning.

"Because I can't."

Her heart skipped, and she quickly looked away.

"Spare me the act. You—"

Before she could finish, Ethan leaned in close.

"Evelyn, you're scared."

"Don't be ridiculous!"

"Scared of falling for me again."

Her breath hitched before she scoffed.

"Narcissism is a disease. Get help."

Ethan smirked. "Then why won't you look at me?"

"Who says I won't?"

She forced herself to meet his eyes, but the intensity in them made her pulse race.

His lips curved.

"See? You're blushing."

"You—!"

Furious, she shoved at him, but he only held her tighter.

"Behave. Let me treat your wounds."

"Have the housekeeper do it!"

"No."

"Why not?"

His voice dropped, rough with possessiveness.

"Only I get to see your body."