Because the birth had been anything but natural, the doctors insisted on a seven-day observation period at the hospital.

For the past few days, Marcellus had been hovering over the mother and child, his exhaustion evident. Yet, as he handled every diaper change and feeding personally, a profound, protective fatherly love had begun to take root in him. When Damian dropped by for a visit, he found Marcellus standing by the sun-drenched window, cradling the baby with surprisingly practiced hands.

The sight was so domestic it stopped Damian in his tracks. He couldn’t help but chuckle. "Marcellus, you’re practically radiating 'maternal glow' right now."

"You’re the one who's maternal," Marcellus shot back without looking away from the infant. His eyes were glued to her tiny face, his voice softening to a murmur. "Our little girl is just perfect."

"Oh, spare me. Are you bragging?"

Marcellus arched a brow, looking smug. "Isn't it worth bragging about? Have you ever heard a fetal heartbeat? Felt those tiny kicks? Seen a baby this beautiful?"

"Fine, fine. I surrender," Damian sighed, turning his gaze toward Evangeline. "Evangeline, has he been like this all week?"

"Not at all," she replied with a dry smile. "The first two days, he was absolutely terrified to even touch her."

Marcellus immediately protested, "That’s a lie! Don't you dare slander me in front of her."

Evangeline let out a soft laugh. It was strange how love could bloom in the most mundane acts of service; even between a father and his newborn, the transformation was inevitable.

"Damian," Marcellus said, his tone shifting sharply, "why are you still calling her 'Ms. Montgomery'? Show some respect and call her 'Sister-in-law'."

"Oh, look at you, changing the subject," Damian retorted.

"Can't I?" Marcellus challenged. "Now, back to the point—why exactly were you claiming I was 'repulsed' by the baby? Give me a rational explanation."

Marcellus simply ignored him, bowing his head to play with the baby’s tiny hand.

"Coward," Damian muttered.

A soft knock interrupted them. A bodyguard stood at the door. "Ma'am, there is a young lady here claiming to be a secretary from Summit Corp. She’s asking to see you."

"Summit Corp?" Evangeline glanced at Marcellus.

"Nolan's company," Marcellus noted.

"Let her in."

The moment the girl stepped into the room, Evangeline felt like she was looking into a mirror.

"What the hell?" Damian whispered, glancing between the two. "Evangeline, is this some long-lost sister you forgot to mention?"

The young woman looked timidly at the men in the room, her eyes flickering with nervousness. "I’m sorry to bother you, Ms. Montgomery. Could I... could I speak with you alone?"

"What do you want?" Marcellus growled, his voice dropping an octave.

The girl flinched, shrinking away from his icy glare. Evangeline offered her a reassuring nod. "It’s fine. Why don't you and Damian step out for a moment?"

Marcellus gave the newcomer a final, warning look before heading for the door.

"What's on your mind?" Evangeline asked once they were alone.

The girl nervously twisted the hem of her cardigan, her voice barely a whisper. "Ms. Montgomery, my name is Raven Hudson. I don’t have a specific agenda... I just wanted to see you."

Looking at the features that bore a sixty-percent resemblance to her own, Evangeline caught on quickly. "You’re in love with Nolan, aren't you?"

Caught off guard, the girl’s face flushed a deep, embarrassed crimson. "I... yes, I am."

"So, why come to me?"

Raven went silent for a long moment, then took a shaky breath. "When we first met, he stared at me like I was a ghost. I thought he was interested in me, but later he became cold and distant. I just thought he was shy. It wasn't until a week ago that I realized I was just a stand-in for his first love. I just... I wanted to see who I was being compared to."

She looked so vulnerable and utterly devoid of malice that Evangeline’s defenses crumbled. She reached out, gently lifting the girl’s chin. "If you love him, you have to make him see *you*—not some shadow of someone else. That’s the only way to earn real love. Do you understand?"

Raven looked down, disappointed. "But the only reason he ever looked at me twice was because I looked like you."

Evangeline smiled faintly. "So what if we look alike? Everyone is unique. If Nolan is using you as a substitute, don't lower yourself to being a cheap imitation."

The girl looked at Evangeline with wide, adoring eyes. "Ms. Montgomery, you’re so incredible!"

Evangeline blinked. She hadn't expected to gain a fan today. The atmosphere turned awkward, and she sheepishly scratched her head. "Uh—glad you appreciate it, but let’s keep it professional, alright?"

Raven lowered her head, looking bashful. "Ms. Montgomery, can I ask one last thing? How long has he been in love with you? I need to know if I should prepare for a long battle."

Evangeline considered this. "I don't think he’s in love with me, honestly. It’s just old childhood sentiment."

"Wait, you knew each other as kids? Then I’m definitely—"

"Hey, I thought you were preparing for a 'long battle,'" Evangeline interrupted with a grin. "Don't back down before you've even started."

Raven’s face brightened, and she made a fist in determination. "You’re right. I can win him over with my sincerity!"

*She’s a real firecracker,* Evangeline thought, watching her leave. *Maybe she really is the one to warm up Nolan's heart.*

As Raven exited the room, she found herself face-to-face with the two men in the hallway. Marcellus stared her down, his expression murderous.

"Stop right there," he commanded.

"Mr. Alexander, is there a problem?"

"That’s exactly what I should be asking you."

If looks could kill, Raven would have been gutted on the spot. She stepped back, trembling. "I was just visiting Ms. Montgomery. That’s none of your business."

Damian smirked at Marcellus. "So, your brother is playing the 'substitute lover' game?"

The remark only made Marcellus’s face darken further. "A counterfeit will always be a counterfeit."

Raven stiffened, her voice rising in defiance. "Ms. Montgomery said that everyone is unique! I am not a counterfeit!"

"Oho! A little spitfire," Damian laughed. "Marcellus, she looks timid, but she’s got some nerve!"

"Marcellus?" Evangeline called out from the room, cutting the tension.

Marcellus strode toward the room, brushing past Raven with a lethal glare. As she walked away, Raven pressed a hand to her pounding heart. *Mr. Alexander is so refined, so why is his older brother such a living demon? It’s a tragedy that someone as wonderful as Ms. Montgomery has to put up with him.*

Inside, Evangeline gestured for him to come closer. "Marcellus, are you angry?"

"Nolan actually dared to harbor feelings for you and then brought in a cheap knock-off to annoy me!"

"It was the girl who sought out Nolan," Evangeline said, resting her head on his shoulder and gently massaging his palm.

"Are you defending him?"

"Do you remember how old I was when I stopped visiting your family?"

"Seven."

"Exactly. Seven. We haven't seen each other in all these years. By the time we met again, I was already his sister-in-law. You can't possibly think he’s obsessed with a child he barely knew, right?"

"Why not?"

Evangeline stared at him in disbelief. "So, wait... were you—?"

Marcellus pinched her cheek, giving it a playful shake. "Hardly. I’m not a deviant."

"Are you sure?"

The question hung in the air. Marcellus turned his face away, looking uncomfortable. Just as the silence grew thick, a sharp cry pierced the room.

"Waaaah! Waaaah!"

Marcellus scrambled to pick up the baby, rocking her gently. "Our little girl is awake. Daddy's here. Don't cry, Daddy's got you."

*They say pregnancy makes you stupid, but my brain feels just fine,* Evangeline thought with a sigh of relief. *She cried at the perfect time.*

She didn't press the issue. She had no desire to be dragged into a never-ending cycle of interrogation. "Has Damian left?"

"Yeah. Said he was going to pick up Remi."

She held out her arms. "Give her to me. It's time for her feeding."

She waited, arms outstretched, but Marcellus didn't move. She frowned. "Hurry up, Marcellus, she’s hungry."

Marcellus moved with agonizing slowness. "Darling... can we just skip the breastfeeding? Let's use formula."

"What? No. I want to do this myself." Evangeline glared at him and took the child into her arms.

"Sssss," she hissed as a sharp pain flared.

Marcellus panicked. "It hurts, doesn't it? Let's just stop!"

"I'm fine. It's just like this at first. It’ll go numb in a minute."

"Darling!"

Evangeline reached out and squeezed his hand. "Marcellus, this is a mother’s job. It doesn’t hurt forever. A few more days and I’ll be fine, I promise."

He couldn't understand the physical sensation of nursing, but he could respect her stubbornness. As long as it was the best for their baby, he would do whatever he could to support her. He sighed in resignation, using his palm to support her waist and give her some leverage.

The rhythmic gulping of the baby sounded like music to their ears. Marcellus watched the intimate scene with soft eyes, though his gaze began to drift, lingering on the soft curves of her skin.

Evangeline felt his burning stare and looked at him. "Marcellus! You pervert!"

"My apologies. I shouldn't be drooling over the baby's dinner."

Evangeline was so stunned by his shamelessness that she couldn't even form a retort. She covered herself with a hand, shooting him a wary look.

Marcellus chuckled at her reaction. "Don't worry, I won't steal from her."

*Save me,* Evangeline thought. *What is wrong with this man?*

Seeing her face flush a deep red, Marcellus decided to quit while he was ahead. He reached out to ruffle her hair. "Alright, alright. No more jokes. I’ll pack our things, and we’ll go home soon."

She couldn't wait to leave. Every time the doctors came for rounds—pressing on her stomach, checking stitches, lecturing her on lactation—she felt like nothing more than a brood sow, robbed of all dignity. She wanted to escape and never step foot in a maternity ward again.

The baby fell asleep after eating. Evangeline bundled herself up, sitting on the bed with a look of pure anticipation.

"Darling, you look so well-behaved like that."

"Just hurry up and finish packing. I can't spend another minute in this place."

"Of course."

Marcellus scooped her up in his arms, the nanny carried the baby basket, and they left the hospital under the protection of his guards.

Back at Elysian Estate, Helen Meyer and the rest of the staff were waiting at the gate, tossing petals as the car pulled in.

"Welcome home, Little Miss," the staff cheered.

Everyone was beaming with joy, and even Evangeline felt her spirits lift. The nursery, prepared months in advance, was finally welcoming its little master. Although it was just one tiny person, the room felt overflowing with warmth.

Helen Meyer stared at the baby’s face, tears welling up in her eyes until she was sobbing. "Young Mistress, when I heard you’d had an emergency delivery... I was terrified."

Evangeline patted her back. "I'm back, aren't I? It's all over now."

Helen couldn't stop the tears. "I was just so scared. I was afraid history would repeat itself."

Evangeline frowned. "History? What history, Helen?"

For years, this had been a forbidden topic, locked away in the estate’s history. But the recent events had clearly reopened old wounds.

"The Mistress... she died from a premature birth caused by an accident, so I... I was just so afraid..."

Helen's voice was a jagged whisper. Evangeline had to strain to hear her. She knew Marcellus’s mother had died when he was an infant—Grandpa had told her as much—but Helen had been weeping over this for weeks. Curiosity finally won out.

"Helen, can you tell me what happened to his mother?"

Helen’s sobbing eased, her gaze drifting into the distance as she retreated into the past. After a long pause, she finally spoke.

"Greta Palmer. A month before the Mistress was due, that woman came here with some disgusting, fabricated photos. During the argument, she shoved the Mistress... it caused a premature rupture of the membranes. By the time she reached the hospital... the baby was delivered by C-section, but she... she didn't make it."

Helen clutched her chest, her body shaking with grief. "She was such a kind woman... that damn woman, she actually managed to marry into the family after that. Poor Young Master, he suffered so much under her thumb growing up..."

Evangeline was already weeping, overwhelmed by a heart-wrenching, suffocating sense of helplessness. "After she did something like that, why on earth would they let her marry in?"

Helen looked furious. "She had photos, videos, and she was pregnant. To save the family's reputation, the Old Master forced the Mister to marry her."

"Forced?" Evangeline was bewildered. "If he didn't want to, how did she get pregnant?"

Helen shook her head blankly. "We only know she used some dirty tricks. The details... they never came out."

One evil act had destroyed so many lives. It had shattered a happy home, left an infant motherless, and condemned the man's own child to a lifetime of scorn. No amount of retribution could ever fix the damage done.

Evangeline looked at her sleeping baby, her heart heavy. "Marcellus... from now on, I will love you for both of us."

The whispered vow drifted to the man standing just outside the door. Marcellus’s fists clenched, his eyes bloodshot. He took a deep breath, composed his face, and walked into the room with a mask of calm.

"Helen, bringing a new life home is a joyful occasion. Why are you crying?"

Helen jumped, quickly wiping her eyes. "Oh—yes, you're right. I’ll go stew some soup to help the Young Mistress recover."

When Helen left, the room fell silent. Evangeline saw the faint redness around Marcellus’s eyes. Since he was too stubborn to speak of his pain, she wouldn't prod the wound. They simply stood there, leaning into each other, sharing a quiet, unspoken understanding.