Chapter 5

The discharge procedures were simpler than Evelyn had expected.

She signed a few documents, folded the thin discharge notice and tucked it into her handbag, then picked up her bag and headed for the elevator.

As soon as she stepped out of the hospital entrance, her phone rang.

An unfamiliar number with no contact name saved.

"Ms. Evelyn Drake?" The voice on the other end had that rigid tone typical of legal professionals. "This is Michael Holden, Mr. Caspian Drake's lawyer. Mr. Drake has asked me to inform you that he and Kiera are getting engaged. By mutual decision of himself and Kiera, they hope you will serve as Kiera's bridesmaid."

Evelyn's grip on her phone tightened slightly. She didn't speak.

"The specific duties include accompanying her for wedding dress fittings, selecting the engagement ceremony venue, and attending all proceedings on the day of the ceremony. As compensation, Mr. Drake will pay you a fee." The sound of rustling papers came through the phone. "Do you accept?"

"I accept."

Evelyn knew that even if she refused, she probably wouldn't be allowed to. To avoid further trouble, she simply agreed.

"Very well. Tomorrow morning at nine, a car will pick you up. The address will be sent to your phone shortly."

The call ended.

Evelyn stood on the steps in front of the hospital, watching the traffic on the street.

Los Angeles in May was already getting hot, with harsh white sunlight beating down on the asphalt, creating visible waves of heat.

She suddenly thought of London, where she and Caspian had gone to university. There, in May, they still wore light jackets, with rain falling endlessly.

London's rain couldn't reach Los Angeles. She and Caspian had ultimately drifted apart.

The next morning, a black sedan pulled up right on time in front of the villa.

Evelyn had abandoned those expensive, fussy clothes from her time as Mrs. Drake, choosing instead a simple white shirt and old jeans, her hair casually tied back.

The driver opened the door for her. In the back seat, Caspian and Kiera were already seated.

"Get in." Caspian didn't look at her.

Without hesitation, Evelyn got into the front passenger seat. She stiffly turned her head toward the window to avoid the intimate scene between the two people in the back.

The car left Beverly Hills and stopped in front of a custom bridal boutique.

Kiera, holding Caspian's arm, got out first. The staff immediately rushed over with champagne and pastries, and the couple was ushered into the store.

Evelyn was left behind, alone.

Row after row of wedding dresses had already been prepared. Kiera tried on one after another.

Caspian patiently helped her select styles. Each time Kiera came out, she would twirl around and ask with an upturned, smiling face, "Does it look good?"

"It looks good." He answered the same way every time, his tone gentle, without a trace of impatience.

Evelyn could only stand in the corner, watching those wedding dresses shimmer softly under the lights.

She suddenly remembered her own wedding day. Her wedding dress had been a white cotton dress bought at a thrift store, with a tag that read fifteen dollars.

The wedding ceremony had been reduced by Caspian to just an exchange of rings, and even that ceremony only existed because of Caspian's twisted amusement—it was there to control and threaten her.

That very night, Caspian had slept with another woman, and from that day on, there had been a constant stream of women in his bed.

"Evelyn, what do you think of this one?"

Kiera's voice suddenly rang out, interrupting her memories.

Evelyn came back to herself and found herself facing Kiera, whose expression was sincere and smile sweet. For a moment, she felt disoriented—they had once been good friends.

But now, everything had changed.

Evelyn glanced at the wedding dress—satin, with a long train studded with delicate pearls.

She nodded and answered honestly, "It's beautiful. It suits you well."

Her answer was sincere. She didn't notice Caspian watching this scene coldly from the side, his eyes frighteningly cold.

Kiera was equally oblivious. She smiled with satisfaction and turned back into the fitting room.

Caspian gave the staff a look. They immediately understood and brought over a champagne-colored bridesmaid dress, handing it to Evelyn. "Miss, this is what Mr. Drake selected for you. Please try it on."

Evelyn took the dress and looked at Caspian. A knowing smile played at the corner of his mouth.

She said nothing, sighed quietly to herself, and walked into the fitting room.

As she took off her shirt, she saw herself in the mirror. The bruises on her ribs hadn't faded yet. There were red marks on her arms from blood draws, and a purple-blue mark below her collarbone from hitting the pool.

Her complexion was pale, almost transparent, and even her cheekbones were more prominent than two weeks ago.

She slowly pulled on the bridesmaid dress. The champagne-colored silk clung to her body, making her look even thinner. The neckline was cut very low, leaving her injuries completely exposed.

What an undisguised, brazen humiliation. Evelyn smiled bitterly at her reflection in the mirror, then tugged at the dress and decided to walk out of the fitting room as they wished.

Sure enough, Kiera looked her up and down and frowned, saying mockingly, "You're too thin. The dress doesn't even fit properly."

Caspian's gaze swept over her, lingering for a moment. He picked up his champagne and took a sip, saying flatly, "Leave it. She's just background anyway."

Evelyn lowered her eyes, feeling them burn. She noticed that Caspian wasn't wearing his wedding ring today.

Over the next three days, she followed Kiera to more than a dozen stores.

From wedding dresses to formal wear, from shoes to jewelry, from floral arrangements to venue decorations.

Caspian accompanied them the entire time. Kiera asked for Caspian's opinion on everything she chose, and Caspian always responded patiently, always smiling gently.

Evelyn could tell that the way he looked at Kiera was, without her realizing when, exactly the same as the way she remembered him looking at her.

Against the backdrop of their romance, Evelyn seemed even more pitiful. Most of the time, she was responsible for carrying bags.

Kiera's bag was heavy. She also had to hold Kiera's discarded jacket, while her other hand had to carry several expensive, heavy coats that Kiera had bought on a whim, the shopping bag handles cutting red marks into her palms.

Most of the time she stood awkwardly to the side, while both Caspian and Kiera tacitly chose to ignore her.

The engagement ceremony was set for two days later, on a private yacht owned by Caspian.

Kiera excitedly threw her arms around Caspian's neck and kissed his cheek. "It's perfect! I want everyone to know I'm the happiest woman alive."

Caspian smiled. His peripheral vision swept over Evelyn standing to the side, and a flash of complex emotion passed through those deep blue eyes—so quickly that Evelyn didn't notice at all.

The night before the engagement ceremony, Caspian threw a fireworks party on the yacht. That was just like him—when he liked someone, he wanted the whole world to know.

The fireworks lasted an hour, lighting up the entire harbor. The trending topics on X were all dominated by this fireworks show.

The hashtag about Caspian's devotion to Kiera was at the top, painfully stabbing at Evelyn's eyes.

The party inside the yacht was even more lavish. The champagne tower was stacked thirty layers high, and the gems around everyone's necks were enough to light up the entire room.

Evelyn wore the plainest black dress and was seated in the most remote corner.

Caspian walked in holding Kiera's hand, and the two were immediately surrounded by guests.

Caspian deliberately stood in front of Evelyn and introduced, "This is Kiera, my fiancée."

Someone noticed Evelyn, who was carefully shrinking into the corner behind him, and asked quietly, "And who is that?"

Caspian glanced at her, his lips curving slightly. "Her? She's our housekeeper. We brought her along to have someone to order around."

A few chuckles rippled through the crowd.

Evelyn's fingers tightened on her dress, but her face showed no expression.

"Go pour drinks for the guests." Caspian lifted his chin toward her.

Evelyn stood up and began serving wine to the guests.

A middle-aged man walked up to her. As he took the glass, his fingers deliberately brushed against the back of her hand.

Evelyn calmly withdrew her hand and moved on to the next person.

Halfway through the party, the man approached her again. Holding a glass of whiskey, he drunkenly leaned close to her. "Pour me another."

Evelyn's smile was somewhat awkward. She glanced at Caspian, who was calmly socializing, trying to seek help. But just then, the man's hand landed on her waist, his rough fingers slowly stroking her side.

Evelyn's whole body stiffened. She jerked back a step, and the wine bottle in her hand hit the edge of the table with a sharp crack.

Champagne spilled out, splashing on her dress and on the man's cuff. The man was furious. "What are you doing!"

"I'm sorry." Evelyn lowered her head and stepped aside, apologizing quietly.

The man's face darkened, and he was about to explode when Caspian's voice came from behind. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, this lady just accidentally spilled some wine." The man's expression changed instantly, and he lowered the hand he had raised in anger.

Caspian glanced at Evelyn's wet dress and frowned. "So clumsy. An embarrassment. Get out of here. Don't get in the way."

Evelyn lowered her head, turned, and walked toward the yacht's rear cabin. Her steps were hurried, and an indescribable sense of grievance made her eyes sting, but she bit her lip and forced the tears back.

The rear cabin was quiet, dimly lit, with only the muffled sound of waves hitting the hull.

She stood on the deck, looking at the dark sea in the distance, her chest feeling like it was pressed down by a stone, making it hard to breathe.

Footsteps sounded behind her. Thinking it was a waiter, she didn't turn around.

Suddenly, a hand covered her mouth and nose, and a pungent medicinal smell flooded her nostrils.

Evelyn struggled violently, but the person was stronger. Another arm locked around her waist, dragging her backward.

Evelyn caught the familiar champagne scent on the sleeve—it was that middle-aged man from earlier.

Evelyn kicked and fought desperately, but the drug took effect too quickly. Her consciousness began to blur, and her limbs gradually lost strength.

She was dragged into a cabin at the end of the corridor. The man threw her on the bed and began unbuckling his belt. "Little bitch, let's see what you can do now!"

"Don't, don't touch me," Evelyn's voice was weak as she struggled to move, trying to stop his next move.

But the man showed a lewd smile and lunged at her obscenely.

Evelyn used her last bit of strength to kick him in the groin. The unexpected blow made the man scream and bend over, clutching himself.

Evelyn took the opportunity to push him away and stumbled out of the cabin.

She ran staggering through the dim corridor.

The drug made her vision blur. Her body felt like countless ants were crawling inside, a strange itching spreading from her bones to her limbs.

She couldn't hold on any longer and fell to her knees. Her whole body began to burn up, and her breathing grew heavy.

The drug's effects were getting stronger. Her consciousness was beginning to scatter.

She desperately craved something cold. She pulled her collar down hard, pressing against the cabin wall, and bit the back of her hand, trying to stay conscious through pain, but the fire surging from within was about to burn away her last shred of reason.

Someone stepped onto the deck again. Evelyn looked up in terror. She couldn't let anyone see her like this. Against the light from the corridor, she saw a tall figure walking in.

It was Caspian.

He walked closer slowly, the shadow cast by his broad shoulders covering her completely.

Even his breathing seemed infinitely amplified, so close, right in front of her. She desperately held back the impulse to press herself against him.

And he kept approaching without any guard. "What are you doing here?"

Evelyn looked up. She couldn't see his expression clearly, only feel the warmth radiating from his body.

That warmth was like bait, like a hook, making her almost unable to control the urge to lean closer.

"Help, help me," her voice was hoarse beyond recognition, with a sob in it. "Help me find a man, please."

Caspian was silent for a moment, then he laughed. "Do you know what you're saying?"

"I know," Evelyn bit her lip hard, suppressing the moan that had already reached her lips. "I can't die, I can't, please."

"Why look for another man?" His voice was low, clearly also aroused. "Aren't I right here?"

The rising tone of his last word was like a snake's tongue. Evelyn shuddered.

She used her last bit of reason to push him away. "You can't, you, you can't."

Caspian's expression changed, his eyes darkening. He suddenly lunged forward, grabbed her throat, and pinned her against the wall.

His slender fingers could just wrap around her frail neck. His fingers tightened, knuckles pressing against her fragile throat, making it almost impossible for her to breathe.

"Why can't I?" His voice was hoarse, full of pain. "Didn't you say that as long as I had money, you wouldn't leave me? I have money now. Why am I still not good enough?"

Evelyn's vision went black from his grip. Tears flowed uncontrollably down her cheeks, dripping onto the back of his hand.

Those scalding tears seemed to burn Caspian. His fingers loosened slightly, but he didn't let go.

Evelyn's voice trembled, filled with both self-loathing and shame toward Caspian, truth mixed with pretense. "Because you are my Caspian, my only love."

The moment the words fell, Caspian froze completely.

The next second, he lowered his head and kissed her lips.

Evelyn's reason completely collapsed under the double impact of the drug and this kiss.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, abandoning herself to sink into it, responding to him even more passionately. Tears mixed with their tangled lips and teeth, salty and burning.

Caspian picked her up and laid her on the large bed in the room.

His movements weren't gentle—rough and urgent as he tore off her clothes.

Kisses traveled from her lips downward, landing on her collarbone, chest, and abdomen.

The scars on her body were still clearly visible in the dim light. When Caspian's kisses fell on those scars, his movements suddenly became gentle.

He pressed against the bruise on her ribs, gently biting and sucking, like comfort and mockery at once.

"Evelyn," he called her name in a low voice, his voice hoarse with desire. A tear fell on her abdomen. Caspian's eyes were already red, sensitive and fragile. "Don't leave me again, okay?"

She didn't answer. She forcibly pulled herself away from desire for a moment, reached up to cup his face, and gently pressed her lips to his.

That night, they were entangled for a long time.

The drug made her body exceptionally sensitive. Caspian's eyes reddened as he thrust into Evelyn again and again. Pain and pleasure intertwined, making her unable to distinguish reality from illusion.

Caspian held her, kissing her over and over again.

Like going back seven years, to a time before hatred, before betrayal.

But when dawn came, everything returned to square one.

Evelyn woke up first. Sunlight streamed through the window crack, falling on Caspian's sleeping face.

He had cleaned her up last night before sleeping. Now he slept deeply, his brow slightly furrowed, troubled by something.

Evelyn slowly sat up, feeling sore all over. In the mirror, she saw her body covered in kiss marks.

Remembering last night's scene, her cheeks flushed slightly. But when she turned her head and noticed the new ring on Caspian's ring finger, her heart quickly went cold.

She found a pen and sticky note in the nightstand. After thinking for a moment, she wrote a line: [Let's pretend last night never happened.]

She placed the note by his hand, then picked up a jacket that could still cover her, wrapped it around herself, and stumbled out of the room.

The morning sea breeze was cold, making her shiver all over.

She stood on the deck, looking at the distant horizon. The sun was just rising from the sea level, golden light spilling across the water, beautiful and unreal.

She and Caspian had once envisioned an island as their honeymoon destination. If they still loved each other, perhaps she would be preparing a breakfast he loved after such a passionate night.

But everything had changed. Last night's intimacy was all pretense.

Tears suddenly fell, silently sliding down her cheeks and into her collar.