CHAPTER 43: IS HE INSANE?

Axel walked to the door, his tall frame moving with that same steady confidence that always made Evelyn feel both irritated and... well, slightly short of breath.

Evelyn assumed Axel was finally going back to his own house, and of course, she was secretly relieved. She could almost taste her freedom.

"No worries. I won’t be late. I’ll show up at your house tomorrow," Evelyn said calmly, though inside, she felt twisted like a washing machine set on high spin.

"Good." Axel’s hand was already on the door handle.

"Bye, Axel..." she happily said, eager to push him out before he could drop another one of his annoying remarks.

But of course, Axel wasn’t Axel without one last twist. He paused, turned, and looked at her with that unreadable expression.

"Why are you in such a hurry to ask me to leave?"

"So... you assumed I was going to ask you to sleep here?" she shot back sarcastically, chuckling just to cover her nerves.

He didn’t even flinch. His stare was blank, calm, deadly serious.

"Oh, so Evelyn, you want me to sleep here?"

’What the heck!? Did I say the wrong sentence? Again?’ Her mouth opened. Closed and opened again. She was speechless. ’My goodness, Eve... why, oh why, did you even try to banter with this man?’

Evelyn feels frustrated with herself. She knew, each time, he took her words, twisted them around, and then threw them back at her like a grenade.

"I will never reject your offer to stay, Evelyn," he said smoothly, almost regretfully. "But not tonight. I need to do something at my house."

Suddenly, she feels as if lightning has struck her. ’Rejecting? Rejecting what?! I didn’t offer him to stay in the first place! Oh, my lord... this man was thinking too highly of himself...’

"Alright, go home now, Axel," she snapped, shoving him toward the hallway. "I need to rest my eyes. Or I’ll be late tomorrow."

He let her push him, though his amused expression told her she wasn’t winning anything here.

But just as Evelyn was about to slam the door behind him, her steps faltered.

Standing outside was Liam, waiting politely with a large paper bag in his hands.

Great. Perfect. Now she had an audience.

Instantly, Evelyn straightened her back, plastered on a polite smile, and pretended she hadn’t just been arguing like a madwoman.

She cleared her throat, "Evening, Liam," she said smoothly, as if everything was perfectly normal.

Axel took the bag from Liam, then, with that calm authority that made everyone else obey without question, he handed it to her.

"Wear this tomorrow." And with that, he walked away with Liam following him. No explanation, no opportunity for her to respond. Just those three words.

His house door clicked shut, and Evelyn remained frozen in place.

The bag hung from her hand like a cursed object. Her eyes slowly drifted down to the logo on its side, and her jaw tightened.

It was from one of the most famous fashion houses in the country.

Her stomach sank. A very, very bad feeling prickled down her spine.

"Axel Knight... He bought me clothes?"

Immediately, Evelyn shut the door, locked it, and marched toward her bedroom, bag in hand.

Then, she threw the paper bag onto the bed and folded her arms, her gaze remaining on the bag.

Part of her wanted to ignore it. Pretend it didn’t exist. But curiosity had already swallowed her.

"What did Axel Knight choose for me to wear tomorrow?"

Evelyn let out a long, weary sigh as she dropped onto the bed beside the bag. Her eyes wandered up to the white ceiling, as if it might hold the answer.

"Knowing him," she muttered, "it’s either a wedding dress or something so dramatic I’ll look like I’m about to host the Oscars."

She lay there for a few minutes, staring blankly, trying to convince herself she didn’t care. But curiosity keeps dancing in her brain.

Finally, she bit her lip, sat up, and pulled the bag onto her lap. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she hesitated a moment longer, as if the paper bag might explode in her face.

"What kind of disaster have you set up for me this time, Axel?" she whispered under her breath, before finally sliding out the sleek box inside.

Her hands trembled as she lifted the lid.

The moment her eyes landed on the contents, her heart stopped. There it was: layers of white silk and lace, gleaming under the bedroom light.

"Oh my goodness..." Her hand flew to her mouth, worried that her voice would wake Oliver.

Her wide eyes darted from the dress to the closed door, half-expecting Axel to barge back in with that infuriatingly calm expression.

"Is he insane? A wedding dress? What was he thinking?"

She had only been joking earlier, throwing out wild guesses to make herself feel better. But no, of course, Axel Knight had gone and proved her joke right.

Evelyn looked back at the box, staring at it in horror, her fingers frozen just inches from the fabric.

For a moment, she didn’t even dare to touch it, afraid the thing might actually curse her if she did.

She snapped the lid shut and shoved the box back onto the bed as if it might bite her fingers.

Then, she stood on her feet and paced back and forth across her room, dragging both hands through her hair.

Sleepy?

Tired?

Clearly, all of it had vanished. At this rate, Axel Knight wasn’t just driving her insane; he was dancing on the wreckage of her sanity with that smug face of his.

After three laps around the room, she finally grabbed her phone.

"That’s it. I’m calling him!"

Her thumb hovered over his name, but just before she pressed the screen, she froze.

"No. No. If I call him, he’ll just... tease me. And I’ll lose. Again." She muttered to herself, glaring at the phone like it was Axel himself.

Evelyn inhaled deeply, then nodded firmly.

"Yes! Text. Texting is safer. He can’t twist my words over text. Right?"

She types faster:

"Axel, whatever you’re planning tomorrow, please stop. I don’t want a surprise wedding party. And I won’t wear the wedding gown." From: Evelyn.