Evelyn had just finished unbuttoning Alexander’s shirt.

Her fingers were moving toward his belt when his expression shifted.

It hardened instantly.

His hand closed around her wrist in a sharp, unyielding grip.

"Enough," he said, his voice cutting through the tension. "Get out."

If she continued, he knew he would lose all control.

Evelyn blinked, completely thrown by the sudden change. "What?"

Alexander didn't explain.

He called out, his tone clipped and final. "Prepare the room next door for her."

"Yes, Mr. Blackwood."

Without another word, he guided her firmly toward the doorway.

The door shut behind her with a definitive thud.

Her suitcase remained in the hallway, untouched.

The sound of the lock echoed in the corridor.

Evelyn stood there, stunned.

"What's wrong with him?" She turned to the butler, her voice laced with confusion. "Why did he react like that?"

The butler's voice was calm, almost rehearsed. "Mrs. Blackwood, Mr. Blackwood's moods are often unpredictable. Now that you're living here, it's best to adapt. After all, he..."

He let his words trail off, but Evelyn understood.

Alexander, confined to a wheelchair despite his youth, had been cast aside by his own family.

It was no wonder he carried so much pent-up frustration.

No wonder he kept pressing her about her opinion of him.

He had likely spent years drowning in insecurity.

The realization hit her with force.

A deep sympathy settled in her chest.

He had completely misinterpreted her intentions.

She needed to clarify things before he convinced himself she saw him as less of a man.

Inside his room, Alexander sat in his wheelchair, his jaw tight.

He struggled to steady his breathing, but it was useless.

Frustration burned through him.

He stood up and walked into the bathroom.

He turned the faucet on full blast.

Icy water crashed over him, dousing the internal fire.

It took a long time for him to regain control.

When he emerged, he ran a towel through his damp hair, irritation still simmering.

What had Evelyn done to him?

He couldn't understand it.

How could a single touch from her make him lose his composure so completely?

The next morning, Evelyn finished getting ready.

A soft knock sounded at her door.

She opened it to find the butler waiting.

"Mrs. Blackwood, breakfast is served. You are welcome to come down whenever you are ready," he said respectfully.

Evelyn gave a small nod. "Thank you."

As she closed the door, her thoughts returned to last night.

She had to clear the air with Alexander.

Breakfast seemed like the perfect opportunity to apologize.

But when she entered the dining room, she found an extravagant spread laid out.

Alexander was nowhere to be seen.

She hesitated, staring at the empty place setting.

"Mrs. Blackwood, is everything alright? Does the food not meet your expectations?" the butler asked warmly.

Evelyn quickly shook her head. "No, the food looks wonderful."

She took a breath. "Is Alexander not joining me for breakfast?"

The butler sighed, a hint of helplessness in his tone. "He's been working in the study since last night. No one dared to disturb him."

After a pause, he added with concern. "He has a chronic stomach condition. But if he refuses to eat, there's little we can do..."

Evelyn looked up and caught the butler watching her with a hopeful smile.

Since the staff couldn't persuade him, perhaps she could.

As his wife, theirs was supposed to be a partnership.

Concern for his health gnawed at her.

Breakfast was crucial.

"I'll talk to him," she murmured.

The butler's face brightened with relief. "Excellent! I'm sure he will appreciate your concern."

Evelyn hesitated, her brows knitting together.

Would he, though?

After his abrupt change last night, she wasn't so sure.

Was the butler just being polite?

Still, she had to apologize.

Maybe making something for him would help ease the tension.

"May I use the kitchen?" she asked, gesturing toward it.

The butler looked surprised, then nodded quickly. "Of course, Madam. This is your home. Please, let us know if you need any assistance."

Evelyn offered a warm smile. "Thank you. I'd like to make something for Alexander myself. I can manage."

Meanwhile, in the study, Alexander was conducting a meeting.

Seated in his wheelchair, his presence was nonetheless commanding, keeping everyone on edge.

His long fingers drummed a light, rhythmic pattern on the desk.

Each tap felt like pressure on the room.

"Mr. Blackwood, that land on the city's outskirts was hard-won. Its value has already appreciated to a billion dollars. Handing it over to Mr. Hayes just like that represents a significant loss..."

His subordinate spoke cautiously, carefully watching Alexander's expression.

Alexander stopped tapping.

His tone was calm but absolute. "A bet is a bet. I honor my commitments."

He had agreed to the wager with Sebastian, and he had lost.

It was that simple.

It was just a piece of land.

His subordinate's eyes widened in disbelief.

Alexander was ruthless in business.

Yet he had made a bet?

And lost?