After entering the bedroom, the maid lowered her eyes and quietly left.
Evelyn Clayton’s heart was pounding fiercely. She walked to the bathroom, only daring to open the note there.
The handwriting was unfamiliar, but it immediately revealed its identity.
Evelyn didn’t know what to feel. She finished reading the note, her heart thumping hard.
Lynn Yates had actually arranged for someone to come in.
And from what Lynn’s note implied, she didn’t want James Grant to go astray and seemed to have intentions of helping her.
But... Evelyn couldn’t understand. With Yara Reagan around, she wouldn’t let Violet Ford and Franklin Ford tell anyone she was back, let alone seek out Lynn Yates, who was completely unrelated.
How did Lynn Yates know she was here?
Evelyn grimly tore the note into pieces and flushed them down the toilet. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ novel·fire·net
Watching the swirling water, she slightly pursed her lips.
She couldn’t delay any longer...
The longer she stayed here, the greater the risk of being discovered by James Grant.
Evelyn left the bathroom and went to the bedroom balcony, looking outside.
Her bedroom was near the villa’s back garden, and from there, she could only see flowers, grass, and trees — not even a silhouette of other villas in the neighborhood.
Evelyn furrowed her brows tightly, tapping the railing lightly with her fingers, revealing a hint of anxiety.
She sat on the sofa by the balcony, her eyes slightly narrowing as she gazed out the window.
If Lynn Yates truly had a way to help her, maybe it would be easier...
Evelyn leaned back on the sofa, remaining motionless for a long time.
The feeling of being imprisoned was unpleasant, and the faint dull ache in her lower abdomen constantly reminded her that she couldn’t delay any longer.
She didn’t know how long had passed as she gradually fell asleep.
She didn’t know how long she slept before she suddenly heard a gentle calling by her side.
Evelyn opened her eyes and saw that it was the same maid who had passed her the note during the day.
"Miss Clayton, Mr. Grant has returned and is already inside," the maid spoke in a gentle whisper, eyes downcast.
Evelyn fully woke up, took a deep look at the maid, and after a moment, rose slowly to walk out.
Downstairs was brightly lit, and as Evelyn walked down slowly, she saw James Grant, who had just taken off his coat and suit jacket and was unbuttoning his shirt.
Seeing Evelyn coming down, a fleeting gloom crossed James’s handsome face. He then stopped his actions and leisurely looked at her.
Evelyn gave a cold glance at James, went to the kitchen counter and poured herself a glass of warm water.
She drank the entire glass before hearing James say in a deep voice, "Come here."
"What for?" Evelyn’s eyes turned slightly cold.
James raised an eyebrow slightly, extending his arm, "Come help me with the buttons."
He spoke as if it were a matter of course, like a husband returning home exhausted from a hard day’s work, and Evelyn was his wife.
Evelyn naturally perceived this subtle feeling.
She lightly raised an eyebrow, a mocking look in her eyes.
"James Grant, do you want to play house with me?"
This statement instantly infuriated James.
He let out a cold laugh, took a big step forward, wrapped an arm around Evelyn’s waist, and pulled her into his embrace.
James’s long, cold fingertips gently stroked and moved along Evelyn’s side cheek with a low, hoarse voice, "Evelyn, you’re in my place now; you’d better be obedient."
"Oh, really?" Evelyn raised an eyebrow nearly defiantly, "If I’m not obedient, is Director Grant planning to throw me out? I’d be happy with that."
James’s expression turned dark, and he gritted his teeth, "You never learn to be obedient, do you?"
"If by obedient you mean being the gentle, virtuous wife you fantasize about, always conforming to your wishes, then I’m sorry, I can never do that."
"Because I don’t love you, and I could never marry you."