In the parking garage, Marcellus Alexander shielded Evangeline Montgomery as she stepped into the car, casting a sharp, warning glare at Waylen Shaw, who stood by the door. He didn't want any other man seeing his woman looking so delicate and captivating.

Waylen looked utterly aggrieved, baffled by the sudden hostility from his boss. In the driver’s seat, Wylder Shaw couldn't help but chuckle. He tapped the partition to close it and shot a smirk at his brother. His little brother was truly a blockhead; couldn't he see that the boss was protecting Ms. Montgomery like a mother hen guarding her chick? He was lucky to still be standing there instead of being fired for staring.

Evangeline nestled into Marcellus’s chest, finding a comfortable position, her small hand reaching out to play with his long, slender fingers. Their chemistry was intimate and natural. Throughout the drive, Marcellus remained silent, seemingly deep in thought, opening his mouth several times as if to speak before holding back. Evangeline noticed, but she didn’t press him. If he wanted to say something, he would find the words eventually.

Back at Elysian Estate, Marcellus caught Evangeline just as she was about to head upstairs. He looked hesitant. "Evangeline, there’s something I need to discuss with you."

"Yes?" Evangeline stopped, seeing the grave expression on his face, and gave a slight nod.

They retreated to the living room and sat opposite each other on the sofa.

"Damian says your condition isn't great. He thinks you need professional treatment. Should we go see him?" Marcellus couldn't bring himself to look her in the eye.

"What condition? You mean my mental state?" Evangeline’s voice turned cool and steady.

"I'm sorry, Evangeline. It’s all my fault. I just wanted you to stay by my side; I never thought you would..." Marcellus covered his face, his voice thick with guilt.

Hearing this, Evangeline understood. He must have assumed that being trapped here at the estate had caused her to lose her grip on reality.

She reached out, gently caressing his face, her gaze firm. "It’s not because of you, Marcellus. There are just some things I cannot let go of." She smiled at him, a gesture meant to offer comfort.

The man didn't speak. He wanted to keep listening, to hear exactly what was tormenting her heart so deeply. But, unfortunately, she didn't elaborate. Marcellus felt his heart sink. He knew his boundaries; he wouldn't pry into her secrets, but the thought that there was a piece of her soul he couldn't touch remained a painful knot in his chest.

*Perhaps she still doesn't fully trust or rely on me,* he thought with a self-deprecating smile. He stood up and headed upstairs.

Both of them were trapped in their own worlds.

In the study, Marcellus spent three hours replaying Evangeline’s words and their every interaction. Her attitude toward him had shifted so suddenly a few days ago—what was the catalyst? His own insecurities, which he tried so hard to suppress, clawed their way back to the surface. Was it all just a ploy to make him let his guard down so she could leave? But she had come back!

He couldn't make sense of it. Frustrated, he ran a hand through his hair and stared at the dark, inky night outside the window. He stood up and headed toward their bedroom, unable to fight the urge to check on her.

The room was dim, the curtains pulled back to reveal the moonlight flooding across the floor. Evangeline was lying on a chaise longue beneath the window, her silhouette appearing lonely and fragile, a sight that made his heart ache. He caught the scent of wine in the air and walked toward her.

"Been drinking?" Hearing his voice, she opened her eyes. She looked slightly tipsy, then closed her heavy lids again.

Marcellus took the glass from her hand and stood in silence, watching her. The moonlight kissed her face, making her pale skin shimmer as if dusted with frost. She was so breathtaking he couldn't tear his eyes away.

Feeling his gaze, Evangeline reached out, her voice a soft, coy demand. "Marcellus, hold me."

Marcellus scooped her up from the chair. She naturally wrapped her legs around his waist, her breath, laced with the sweet aroma of wine, fanning against his face. He felt as if he were intoxicated, too.

He laid her gently on the bed and turned to pull away, but his tie was suddenly caught in her grip. He looked down at her. She was still wearing his oversized dress shirt, her cheeks flushed a deep, wine-stained red, her eyes unfocused as she looked up at him. She looked like a little siren, a sight that sent a jolt of adrenaline through his blood.

Marcellus couldn't hold back; he crushed his lips against hers. The taste of wine and the sweet, lingering scent of her skin filled his senses. It was intoxicating, driving him to crave more, and more...

His kisses drifted from her lips down to her neck. Her shirt had slipped, barely covering the soft, porcelain curve of her breasts. The sensation of her skin against his was enough to sober him for a heartbeat, and he looked away, afraid to stare too long at the beauty beneath him.

The pause left her dissatisfied. "Marcellus, keep going."

He knew exactly what she meant, but she was under the influence, and he was terrified she would regret it tomorrow.

"Evangeline, you don't realize what you're..." Before he could finish, she pulled him down by his tie, her lips silencing him.

Marcellus finally surrendered to the desire he’d been fighting all night.

The night stretched on, filled with their tangled shadows.

They slept until ten the next morning. Evangeline stretched her sore limbs, and seeing that the man beside her was still asleep, she leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before heading to the bathroom.

In truth, Marcellus had been awake for a while. He hadn't dared to move, terrified of what her attitude would be when she woke up. He feared she would treat last night as a drunken mistake and accuse him of taking advantage of her.

But the kiss—the gentle, lingering good-morning kiss—smoothed away his anxiety. It proved she had been conscious, that she had willingly surrendered herself to him. Marcellus lay in bed, touching his cheek, a blissful smile spreading across his face.