Evangeline Montgomery tried on a few gowns, but her enthusiasm quickly waned. Bored and restless, she slumped into the sofa.

"I’m so tired!"

"If you're tired, rest for a bit. You’re carrying a baby, after all."

"Remi, why don't you try them on for me?"

Remi Crawford recoiled, waving her hands frantically. "Are you crazy? These are wedding gowns!"

"It’s just for the photo shoot, not my actual wedding dress. What’s the harm?"

"This..." Remi hesitated, glancing at Eileen, the stylist.

"Miss Crawford, your figure is quite similar to the lady’s. If she doesn’t mind, it wouldn't be an issue for you to model them for her."

"Fine."

Remi had a naturally innocent look, her large, clear eyes making her seem like a fawn lost in a forest. She didn't carry the weighted anticipation of a bride-to-be; instead, she looked like a wide-eyed princess playing dress-up. The visual contrast between her and Evangeline’s soft, domestic elegance was striking.

Evangeline’s eyes lit up with genuine admiration. "Remi, you look exactly like a runaway princess."

Remi swished the hem of the skirt, admiring her reflection in the full-length mirror. "It’s so beautiful. It almost makes me want to get married."

"Remi, haven’t you and Dr. Spencer talked about that?"

Remi’s expression faltered. "He’s hinted at it, both subtly and directly. But I feel a bit of resistance. Something just feels... missing."

"It’s okay. Just let things happen naturally," Evangeline said, offering her a comforting smile.

After nearly two hours of fittings, they settled on three wedding gowns and two evening dresses, all of them grand and sophisticated. Eileen and her team packed up the remaining inventory and departed.

Evangeline tugged at Remi’s sleeve. "Sleep over at my place tonight."

"No way! Just kidding around earlier nearly cost me my life. Your husband’s face looked like a frozen mountain peak earlier. If I actually slept over, he’d probably have me assassinated by morning!"

"Haha... Remi, you’re being dramatic."

"I’ll come by early tomorrow to watch the shoot, okay?"

Seeing that Remi was adamant, Evangeline pouted. "Fine."

"Oh, sweet Evangeline, your expression makes me want to—" Before Remi could finish, she looked toward the door, shivering with a sudden frown. "I think I’ve developed a phobia of that man!"

"Haha..."

"Don't laugh!"

Evangeline rubbed Remi’s face in amusement. "Stop being so grumpy."

"Fine, fine!"

Remi scampered away, though as she passed the living room, she couldn't resist shooting a sharp glare at the man lounging on the sofa. Marcellus Alexander watched her retreating figure and chuckled. "Heh, she really is a perfect match for Damian."

"Dr. Spencer might have to wait a while for her. She doesn't seem to have any plans for marriage."

"Sincerity can move even the hardest stone."

Marcellus pulled Evangeline into his arms, his large hand gently stroking her stomach. "Forget about them. Maybe you should focus on your own husband."

Evangeline met his scorching gaze, her nerves tightening. "Marcellus! Stay calm!"

"I know, but... it’s unbearable."

He nuzzled into the crook of her neck, looking every bit like a spoiled puppy. Evangeline’s heart softened, but she stood her ground.

"How about you sleep in the guest room?"

"Evangeline, are you kicking me out?"

"No, that’s not it. I just mean you need some time to cool off."

"Do I have to live like a monk just because you’re pregnant?"

Unable to bear his pitiful expression, Evangeline turned her face away. "I can’t help you there."

Marcellus tilted her chin up, his eyes burning with desire. "Evangeline, you have plenty of ways to help."

"Enough. It’s the middle of the day, you shameless man!" She swatted his hand away and fled the room.

Marcellus watched her go, a tragic, frustrated expression plastered on his face—he was the embodiment of a man who was most definitely not getting any.

That night, he failed to charm his way into the master bedroom. In a fit of pique, he grabbed a blanket and laid down on the hardwood floor right in front of the bedroom door.

The next morning, when Helen Meyer came to wake them, she found her young master sprawled pathetically on the floor.

"Master? Why are you sleeping out here?"

Marcellus didn't seem the least bit embarrassed. He merely flipped over. "My wife wouldn't let me back into the room."

"Cough... oh, my. Master, get up, the floor is so hard."

"Hard? Is it harder than my wife’s heart?"

Helen stood frozen, stunned that such words could come out of her master’s mouth.

Evangeline, still groggy, heard the man’s melodramatic complaining through the door. She opened it to investigate. "Marcellus, you slept here all night?"

"Since my wife wouldn't let me in, I had no choice but to sleep on the floor."

Evangeline cast an embarrassed look at Helen, who was struggling to suppress a laugh. "Get up, don't make a scene. You’re making Helen laugh at you."

She reached out to pull him up, and he allowed himself to be hauled to his feet without resistance.

"So, wife... can I go in and change?"

"Ugh, stop talking like that! You’re giving me goosebumps." Evangeline, her toes curling in embarrassment, quickly dragged him inside.

Helen chuckled as she picked up the blanket. "Never seen the master act like such a child."

Inside, Evangeline stood with her hands on her hips, fuming. "What was that?!"

"I’m just listening to my wife."

Looking into his innocent eyes, Evangeline knew he was acting, but she couldn't bring herself to be angry. She carefully checked his back, relieved to find him warm.

"Don't do stupid things like that again. Do you think I’d feel sorry for you? I wouldn't care at all!"

"Evangeline is always saying one thing while meaning another." Marcellus smiled, pulling her into an embrace and kissing the top of her head.

They lingered for a while before Evangeline pushed him away. "Let’s go down. We can't delay the shoot."

"Alright. Let’s eat first."

The makeup team was already waiting in the studio. Evangeline blinked, staring at the small army of people. "Does it really take this many people to do my makeup?"

"My dear, to ensure you receive the most efficient, high-quality service, these are the smartest and most professional assistants I could find."

"Right. Let’s begin."

Under the weight of so many gazes, Evangeline sat self-consciously at the vanity. The makeup artist’s work was professional, and as Evangeline caught a glimpse in the mirror, she couldn't help but gasp.

"You aren't putting on makeup; you're doing special effects!"

"You’re too kind, Madam. Your skin and features are flawless; I’m just enhancing them for the camera."

"Let me see how my little beauty is turning out!" Remi pushed through the crowd and peered over Evangeline’s shoulder. "Wow! What a stunning vision."

"Stop teasing me!"

"Oh, look at that shy, angry little expression. It’s enough to drive anyone crazy."

Outside, Marcellus glared at the smiling Damian. "Keep your woman in check. Tell her to stop drooling over my wife!"

Damian shoved his hands into his pockets, leaning against the wall with a smug, wild grin. "Is your confidence really that low? You're getting insecure over a little banter between two girls?"

"You don't have to worry about Miss Crawford, do you?" Marcellus asked, his tone dripping with ambiguous intent.

Damian’s smile vanished instantly. "Marcellus, shut the hell up, or I’ll knock you out!"

"Heh..." Marcellus ignored his temper and walked away, leaving behind a trail of suggestive laughter.

Damian was rattled. His words echoed in his head, fueling his worst suspicions.

During the shoot, Remi watched Evangeline with starry eyes. Damian, watching this, felt his blood pressure rise. Driven by a frantic need for reassurance, he grabbed Remi and pulled her away.

"Hey! What are you doing? I’m still watching!" Remi followed him, stumbling as he marched away without a second glance. "Damian, I can't keep up!"

Damian finally slowed down and let go of her hand, his shoulders drooping with loneliness. Remi noticed the shift in his mood and stood in front of him. "What’s wrong with you?"

"Remi, who do you like more? Me or Miss Montgomery?"

The question was so sudden and absurd that Remi was baffled. But seeing his serious, wounded expression, she suddenly realized what was happening.

"Did that dog Marcellus say something to you again?!"

"Remi, answer me, please."

He was desperate for a solid answer. Remi didn't bother beating around the bush. She cupped his face and pressed her lips to his. It was a gentle, feather-light touch, but it left Damian trembling. He closed his eyes, fighting the urge to deepen the kiss, just letting himself soak in her affection.

Remi pulled back slowly, her gaze lingering until her tongue caught a salty taste. Looking into his eyes, she saw they were red-rimmed and brimming with vulnerability.

She hurriedly wiped his tears. "Why are you crying? Was I not clear enough?"

Damian’s chin trembled as he struggled to speak. "I’m scared."

"Don't be. I love you. Stop overthinking it." Remi pulled him into her arms, stroking his hair while internally cursing the man who had planted these seeds of doubt.

Damian clung to her, a triumphant glint in his eyes. "Remi, let’s go back."

"I can't. I promised Evangeline I’d stay with her today."

The mood curdled, but Damian eventually relented and stayed. To soothe him, Remi avoided staring at Evangeline, choosing instead to stay close to Damian, giving him her full attention. Damian’s gaze kept drifting back to the set, filled with envy and longing. Remi wasn't stupid; she saw it clearly.

"Damian, you really want to get married?"

Her voice was stern, making it impossible to tell if she was annoyed or sincere. Damian hesitated. "I’m not in a rush. I’ll get married whenever you’re ready."

The submissiveness in his voice made Remi’s heart ache. In a relationship with such a power imbalance, it was heartbreaking to see someone so high and mighty lower himself into the dirt just for a sliver of love.

She realized then that she didn't want him to be this small, this cautious. She beamed at him, a silent vow forming in her mind. Damian, seeing the smile, interpreted it as her being pleased with his answer. He bowed his head, masking his loneliness with a bitter smile.

Back on set, the shoot continued. The afternoon light caught the happy couple, bathing them in a golden glow. Their chemistry was effortless.

"Every frame is a masterpiece! Absolutely stunning!" the photographer cheered.

During a break, the photographer checked his equipment. Evangeline nestled into Marcellus’s arms, their eyes locking as they shared a small, secret smile.

Marcellus gazed at her with infinite tenderness, his hand gently tracing her face. "Are you tired?"

"A little, but I’m so happy."

"I’m happy, too."

The photographer snapped the shutter, capturing the moment.

By the end of the day, Evangeline was too tired to even blink. Remi took over the makeup removal from the professionals, gently wiping the products off her friend’s skin. As the staff cleared out and the Elysian Estate returned to silence, Evangeline let out a relaxed breath.

"Remi, you’re so gentle~"

Remi shot a defiant look at Marcellus, who was scowling from across the room, a triumphant smile on her lips. Marcellus’s teeth ground together; he signaled a warning to Damian.

"Heh, Miss Montgomery, open your eyes and look at what a jealous miser your husband is!"

At that, Marcellus instantly wiped the intensity from his face, returning to his usual nonchalant demeanor.

"What’s wrong?" Evangeline asked, her eyes heavy with sleep.

"He—"

"Eastside!" Marcellus interrupted, cutting Damian’s complaint short.

"Oh... nothing. I was just saying how handsome your Marcellus looks today!"

"Why are you both acting so weird?"

"You’ve had a long day. Get some rest. Remi and I are heading out." Damian grabbed Remi and fled before Evangeline could say another word.

Evangeline looked back and forth between them. "Do you two have secrets?"

"He bought a piece of land from me. Said he wanted to build a home for Miss Crawford."

"Wow! That’s so romantic of Dr. Spencer! Wait—no. I was asking what he was going to say that you cut off? Don't try to change the subject."

Marcellus’s eyes darted around, his mind racing for an excuse. He had never faltered under pressure in the boardroom, but now, a flush crept up his neck.

The sight was so rare that Evangeline leaned in, eyes bright with curiosity. "Come on, what guilty conscience are you hiding?"

"...I told him to watch out for Miss Crawford’s preferences."

Evangeline paused, then burst into laughter, collapsing onto the sofa. "Marcellus, you’re going to be the death of me! The way girls interact is just different from boys. You don't have to understand it, but don't misinterpret it!"

"I don't care, I still don't like it!"

Seeing he was immovable, Evangeline gave up. She patted his shoulder, giggled, and headed upstairs.

"You’ll just have to get used to it."