bChapter /bb101 /b

What Charlotte had once yearned for with every fiber of her being was this bexact /bmoment: standing together with him, in front of everyone, as a real

couple–intimate, not strangers bound only by marriage on paper.

Everything she had wished for over the years hade true in just a matter of weeks.

And ironically, it all happened right as she was ready to let go.

Was this the universe’s way of pitying thest six years she’d given, or did Evander feel guilty about what happened with Hiram? Had he finally decided to treat her a little better?

Charlotte’s nose prickled as emotion threatened to spill over, but she forced herself

to swallow it back down.

“Mr. Howard, your girlfriend looks absolutely stunning in this dress! She could be a movie star–she’s gorgeous!” the sales assistant gushed, unable to hold back her

praise.

“She’s not my girlfriend-”

“I’m just Mr. Howard’s assistant,” Charlotte cut in, almost at the same time.

Natalie blinked, caught off guard.

Their eyes met for a split second before Charlotte quickly looked away, polite and distant. “Thank you, Mr. Howard, foring with me to pick out clothes. As for the dress, you can deduct the cost from my paycheck. I’ll go get changed now.”

She didn’t wait for Evander’s reply before turning and slipping into the fitting room.

But the moment she pulled the curtain shut, it slid aside unexpectedly. Evander stepped in, catching herpletely off guard.

She stared at him, startled, lowering her voice. “Evander, you-”

He closed the space between them, his arms ?aging her in, lips brushing her ear as he spoke low and quietly. /’What, do you want everyone outside to hear you?”

She shivered, silent.

“This dress suits you,” he murmured, noticing her trembling and holding her tighter. In the narrow space, his heartbeat and his body heat seemed dangerously intoxicating.

b08:48 /b

Evander was rarely out of control. He was alwaysposed–bexcept /bfor bthat /bbone /bnight, after he’d been drugged, when he’d truly let himself go. Otherwise, he bnever /blost his grip.

Charlotte could feel how close he was; close enough that their bodies pressed together, close enough that if she turned her head, their breaths would tangle.

Just as his lips were about to meet hers, his phone rang, shattering the charged silence.

Charlotte felt the tension break and let out a breath, her shoulders finally rxing.

Evander took out his phone and answered. “Hello?”

“Evander, your father’s back already. When are you twoing home?” Miranda’s voice came through the line.

“We’ll be home soon,” he replied, straightening up.

After hanging up, he nced at Charlotte, then left the fitting room.

Charlotte exhaled slowly, then followed him out.

Howard Manor.

Everyone was gathered in the living room except Genevieve. Seated beside the family matriarch was a middle–aged man with striking features and an athletic build. Even with age in his face–wrinkles and a touch of gray–there was no mistaking the charisma he must have possessed in his youth.

Evander and Charlotte entered the room one after the other.

Both turned toward the man, and almost in unison, called out, “Dad.”

Jacques brushed the lid off his teacup and nodded. “You’re back.”

“It’s not often you visit. How could the kids note home?” Miranda said warmly, waving Evander over. “You and your father haven’t seen each other in ages–make sure you spend some time together today.”

Jacques set his cup down, his tone calm. “You don’t need to fuss over me. Evander has his own family now, and Howard Enterprises is running smoothly. He should spend his free time with Lottie.”

Miranda’s smile faltered for a moment.

The family chatted for a bit in the living room until it was time for dinner.

The atmosphere was warm and harmonious.

Jensen and his wife toasted Jacques, a clear sign–aside from the family matriarch–of just how important Jacques, the eldest son, was to the Howards.

Charlotte quietly picked at the food in front of her, eating a few bites and keeping

out of the conversation.

Now and then, she stole nces at father and son.

Truthfully, in the six years since she’d married into the Howard family, she’d only met her father–inw four times.

The first was on her wedding day with Evander.

The second and third were during the New Year celebrations in the following two

years.

And today was the fourth.

She couldn’t help but notice that, beyond their resemnce, both father and son shared the same serious, unsmiling expression.

And unless she was imagining things, there seemed to be a subtle distance between her father–inw and mother–inw as well.

Suddenly, Aunt Ilse spoke up, breaking the lull. “Evander, you’re not getting any younger. You and Lottie have been married for years–howe there’s still no news of a baby?”