Chapter 401

The impact sent Sebastian crashing against the bookshelf, sending a shower of leather-bound volumes tumbling down around him. One particularly heavy book struck his temple, leaving his ears ringing with a dull ache.

"Damn it, Alexander! What the hell was that?"

"I warned you, didn't I?"

A flicker of concern crossed Alexander's face as he took in Sebastian's pained expression, but it vanished just as quickly. "Sebastian, my sister needs your help, but that doesn't mean you can push me around. Whatever happened that night—it ends here. If you behave, we can still be family. If you keep this up, I can't promise I'll stay civil."

Patience had never been Alexander's strong suit.

Among the Ashbourne siblings, he was known for his explosive temper. A decade ago, anyone who dared lay a hand on him like this would've left with broken fingers.

"Alexander. So you're denying what happened that night?" Sebastian's voice shook, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white.

"We kissed. We held each other. And then what? Did we go any further?"

Alexander slowly turned his chair, removing his glasses to reveal cold, detached eyes. "That's all there was to it. You know exactly how it happened, Sebastian. If you hadn't initiated it, nothing would've happened at all."

"But you could've stopped me like you did just now! You didn't!"

Sebastian glared at him, his eyes burning like a cornered fox's. "You do have feelings for me. Otherwise, with your personality, even if I stripped naked and threw myself at you, you would've shoved me away!"

"Sebastian, I've done my research. I know about your past. The number of men you've been with is... impressive."

Sebastian froze, suddenly feeling exposed under Alexander's piercing gaze.

"Let me ask you—when you slept with those men, did you actually love any of them?"

The question struck like a knife to the chest.

Love?

He'd never loved any of them.

Those fleeting encounters were just distractions, ways to fill the emptiness of lonely nights. He'd been searching for something—anything—to make him feel less alone.

"I think you have your answer. And coincidentally, my feelings for you are exactly the same."

Alexander's stare was unrelenting. "We're both adults, Sebastian. Don't be childish."

Before Sebastian could retort, a sharp knock interrupted them.

"Alexander? Sebastian? Are you in there?" Sophia's voice called from the other side.

Alexander exhaled, composing himself before walking to the door.

"Sophia," he greeted with a warm smile.

"Alexander, were you two arguing? I heard some noise. Is everything alright?" Sophia peered into the room cautiously.

"Everything's fine. Did you need something, or did you come for Sebastian?"

"Actually, I came to see you."

She hesitated before continuing in a hushed tone. "Next week, Emeric and I are attending the Elmsworth horse race. It's a high-profile event—could lead to a major business deal."

She quickly added, "I suggested Emeric take Myra or Aviana instead, but the Abernathy Group will be there. Elspeth will undoubtedly show up. Myra won't go, but Aviana might. If we all attend, the media will twist it into something else."

"Sophia, I understand. You don't need to explain. You've always been the one accompanying my father to these events because of your composure. He trusts you."

"Emeric also mentioned the Fairhaven and Chambers Groups will be attending."

Alexander's expression darkened. "I'll make sure Evadne stays away."

Sophia sighed. "I thought of that too, but Emeric insists she has to be there. Says it's important business."

"Important business?"

"I tried pressing for details, but he wouldn't say."

Sophia's worry was palpable. "Alexander, you have to be there. No matter what, we can't let anyone hurt Evadne."

"Of course. Thank you for telling me."

Once Alexander left, Sophia stepped inside.

"Sebastian, what happened? Did you fight with Alexander?"

Sebastian was gathering the scattered books, his back turned. "No. It's nothing."

"Don't lie. I heard the shouting. What were you arguing about?"

Sophia's disapproval was clear. "Alexander is the most patient man I know. In all these years, I've never seen him lose his temper. Yet you managed to provoke him in just a few days. This is your fault."

Sebastian bristled. "My fault? He's the one who wronged me!"

"Sebastian, watch your tone! You've grown reckless without guidance. You're becoming insufferable!"

"If you want to survive in the Ashbourne family, you have to play nice. But I can leave whenever I want. I don't need to kiss up to them!"

The words slipped out before he could stop them.

Sophia's face fell, her expression bitter.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the room.

Sebastian bit his lip, searching for a way to smooth things over when Sophia spoke quietly. "Sebastian, I'm sorry. I know I've brought shame upon you—upon the Bright family. I'm the stain that can never be erased."

"No, Aunt Sophia, I didn't mean—"

"I understand. I'm not fit to guide you. I'm just glad you came home this time. In the future... take care of yourself."

With that, she left, her head bowed.

"Aunt Sophia!"

Guilt twisted in his chest. He wanted to chase after her, but something caught his eye.

A fallen book had revealed a hidden compartment in the shelf.

Curiosity burned through him.

He reached inside—empty.

But the discovery sent his mind racing.

Meanwhile, after Jareth and Gordon left, Thaddeus hadn't seen Evadne emerge from her room.

Dinner came and went, but no matter how much he knocked, she refused to come out, claiming she wasn't feeling well.

Thaddeus was at a loss. She'd been fine that morning. What had changed?

He stood outside her door, wracking his brain—had he done something wrong?

No. Nothing came to mind.

Just as frustration mounted, the doorbell rang.

At the same time, Evadne's bedroom door swung open.

She stepped out in a peach silk nightgown, colliding with Thaddeus. Her forehead smacked against his chest.

"Ouch. Do you live outside my door now, Thaddeus? It's the middle of the afternoon—don't you have anything better to do?" She rubbed her forehead, her tone icy.

Thaddeus caught her shoulders, his palms damp with sweat. "I was worried about you. That's why I stayed."

He reached to check her temperature. "No fever. Is something else bothering you?"

"No."

She brushed his hand away. "Go answer the door."

With that, she sidestepped him.

Thaddeus could tell—something was off. She was distant, almost resentful.

Evadne opened the front door.

"Alva!"

"Mrs. Abernathy!"

Alva dropped her luggage and pulled Evadne into a tight embrace.

"Oh, Mrs. Abernathy! I've missed you so much!" The older woman wept like a child.

"I've missed you too, Alva. Seeing you well puts my mind at ease." Evadne patted her back, blinking back tears.

Thaddeus, who had followed, was surprised to see Alva.

He didn't need to ask—Evadne had called her.

"Alva, Thaddeus hasn't been feeling well lately, and I've been busy. I was worried I couldn't take proper care of him, so I asked you to come."

"Of course, Mrs. Abernathy!" Alva was on the verge of tears again.

She never thought she'd see Thaddeus and Evadne together like this again.

It was more than she'd ever hoped for.

Thaddeus's chest tightened.

Evadne wasn't one to rely on others or impose. He knew that better than anyone.

Yet she'd summoned Alva overnight for one reason—she didn't want to be alone with him.

She couldn't bring herself to kick him out, so she'd brought in a buffer.

The realization was a punch to the gut.

Last night, they'd been intimate.

Now, it was as if none of it had happened.

The whiplash was unbearable.

Alva immediately got to work—laundry, tidying, cooking. No amount of protest could make her rest.

After dinner, Evadne offered to clean up, but Thaddeus insisted.

"My lord, you've never done manual labor a day in your life! Let me handle this!"

"I used to do this when I was younger," Thaddeus said offhandedly.

The comment made Evadne pause.

She'd followed Thaddeus for years, yet knew almost nothing about his childhood.

While Thaddeus and Alva stayed in the kitchen, Evadne retreated to her room.

Clearly, she wanted as little interaction with him as possible.

Thaddeus felt the weight of her rejection like a physical blow.

Love made him desperate. Fearful.

"Sir, let me finish. You look unwell." Alva took the sponge from him, concern etched on her face.

"Alva... could you talk to Evadne for me?"

"Did you two have another fight?"

Thaddeus sighed. "I feel like I don't understand her at all. I can't reach her. Maybe... if you spoke to her, she'd open up."

After her bath, Evadne collapsed onto the bed with a heavy sigh.

Normally, she wouldn't let a man occupy her thoughts like this. She'd be out with friends, drowning her worries in wine.

But overhearing Thaddeus and Jareth's conversation that morning had reopened old wounds.

She didn't even want to look at Thaddeus right now.

She knew their lost child wasn't entirely his fault—but she couldn't move past it.

Not thinking about it didn't mean she'd forgotten.

A knock interrupted her thoughts. Assuming it was Thaddeus, she pulled the covers over her head.

"Mrs. Abernathy? It's Alva. I brought hot chocolate. Are you awake?"

Evadne sat up abruptly and opened the door.

Alva stood there, smiling warmly. Evadne glanced past her.

"Mr. Thaddeus isn't here. It's just me."

Flushing, Evadne let her in.

They chatted like mother and daughter. Alva's genuine care warmed Evadne's heart.

Once the hot chocolate was finished, Alva sat beside her.

"Mrs. Abernathy, Thaddeus told me everything."

Evadne stiffened. "Including Elspeth framing Cynthia?"

Alva's grip tightened, her palms suddenly clammy. "It was really her?"

Evadne realized Thaddeus had left out the most crucial detail.

Guilt gnawed at her for the slip.

Alva's eyes welled with tears. "I suspected her for years. Who else could've hurt the mistress? Acacia and Glynnis were just children—they couldn't have done it."

Evadne's gaze darkened.

Who said children couldn't commit evil?

Young Acacia and Glynnis might not have orchestrated it like Elspeth, but their cruel rumors had pushed Thaddeus's mother into despair.

Some children were just demons in waiting.

"But I had no proof. If I'd accused Elspeth, I would've been fired. Thaddeus was just a boy—what would've happened to him without me?"

Alva's guilt was palpable.

"Alva, there's something I need to ask you." Evadne hesitated. "What was Thaddeus's childhood really like?"

Alva didn't hold back.

She knew Evadne's doubts were why she kept pushing Thaddeus away.

Only by understanding him completely could Evadne truly forgive him.

So Alva told her everything—the slums, his sick mother, the humiliation, being brought to the Abernathy estate only to be scorned.

And then, the final blow—a teenage Thaddeus, shattered by his mother's death, slitting his wrists in the bathroom.

Evadne's breath hitched.

Tears spilled over, tracing silent paths down her cheeks.