Chapter 793

Evelyn Ross and Alexander Vance stood side by side in the kitchen.

Outside the window, dusk was deepening.

The flames on the stove danced, illuminating Evelyn's focused profile.

Alexander leaned against the doorframe, his gaze fixed on her.

So many years had passed.

From San Francisco to New York, from meeting to staying together, they were no longer the naive people they once were.

But every time he watched her cook, warmth still bloomed in Alexander's heart.

"He has a picky palate," Evelyn said as she stirred the food in the wok. "Back in San Francisco, I cooked for him for three years before I figured out what he liked."

Alexander raised an eyebrow. "What about me?"

Evelyn paused her movements.

She turned her head, looking at him with a half-smile. "You? You'd happily eat instant noodles I made for you."

Alexander was speechless.

That was true.

In a place like the Vance family, being able to eat your fill was good enough. Who dared to be picky?

He rubbed his nose, his eyes drifting toward the living room. "This Elian Cross is seriously ill."

"Anorexia," Evelyn said, plating the food. "It's not an act."

Alexander hummed in agreement.

He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"But I always feel this man is too clever," he said quietly. "Every word is calculated perfectly. Even his show of weakness seems meticulously designed."

Evelyn tilted her head to look at him. "So, did he outsmart you?"

Alexander smiled.

He lowered his head and placed a light kiss on her lips.

"He didn't try to outsmart me," he said. "He knows that winning you over is enough."

Evelyn was taken aback.

Alexander released her and picked up the tray from the counter.

"Let's go," he said. "The food will get cold."

Watching his retreating back, Evelyn couldn't help but curve her lips into a smile.

This man.

His jealousy was obvious, yet he still remembered to help her carry the dishes.

They walked into the living room one after the other.

Elian Cross was already seated at the dining table.

His young attendant stood behind him, eyes red-rimmed.

Elian picked up his chopsticks.

His movements were slow. Each bite seemed like a task to complete.

But at least, he didn't vomit.

The attendant's voice trembled with excitement. "Young Master... the Young Master is finally willing to eat..."

Evelyn sat down opposite them.

She hadn't cooked much. Three dishes, a soup, and a bowl of fried rice with egg.

All prepared according to Elian's tastes.

Elian ate with great difficulty.

But he finished.

When he set down his chopsticks, a faint hint of color finally returned to his pale face.

"Thank you," he said, looking at Evelyn, his voice still weak. "After four months without food, Miss Ross's culinary skills have improved even more."

Evelyn smiled slightly. "Practice makes perfect."

Elian stood up.

He bowed formally to Evelyn, his posture solemn.

"My test today was presumptuous," he said. "I apologize to you, Miss Ross."

Evelyn waved her hand dismissively.

What was done was done. There was no point dwelling on it.

Besides, Elian's little act had indeed served as a reminder—she needed to be more cautious with strangers in the future.

"Having eaten your food, discussing money now would be vulgar," Elian said. "If you ever need anything in the future, I will do my utmost."

He signaled to his attendant.

The two of them walked toward the door.

Alexander followed. "Where are you staying, Mr. Cross?"

"The Four Seasons Hotel," Elian replied casually. "I'll buy a house tomorrow and settle in New York."

Alexander nodded.

After seeing Elian off, Evelyn turned to walk back inside.

The night was deep now.

The courtyard lights were on, casting long shadows on the ground.

Alexander walked beside her. "That man's background is not simple."

"I can tell," Evelyn said. "I'll have Thomas look into it."

"Mm."

They had just reached the doorway when Evelyn's phone rang.

She pulled it out and glanced at the screen.

Her expression changed drastically.

Alexander sensed something was wrong. "What is it?"

Evelyn pressed her lips together tightly.

She looked up, her eyes complex.

"James sent the DNA results," she said, her voice heavy. "Chloe and Zack... are not father and daughter."

Alexander's pupils contracted.

The night wind blew past, carrying a chill.

Evelyn gripped her phone, her fingertips turning slightly white.

Not father and daughter.

Then who was Chloe's biological father?

Did Zack know?

Or... had he been lying to them all along?

Evelyn took a deep breath.

She looked at Alexander, her gaze resolute.

"We must get to the bottom of this."