Chapter 423

A tiny life was blossoming inside Evelyn. Yet, she felt nothing—no telltale signs, no early warnings.

When she had carried Lily and Henry, the symptoms had been unmistakable.

The realization hit her like a cold wave.

Back then, she had been drowning in despair. Wounded, medicated, pumped full of antibiotics.

Evelyn's fingers curled into fists. The thought alone made her chest tighten painfully.

Even if this child survived, what if it wasn’t healthy?

The taxi pulled up to the hospital entrance.

She paid the driver and stepped out, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on her.

At the gynecology department, she explained her concerns to the doctor. An ultrasound was ordered.

Forty agonizing minutes later, the results were in her hands.

Pregnant. Again. Dominic’s child.

Too early to tell if it was healthy. Too early to know if it would survive.

If it wasn’t healthy… nature would take its course. She wouldn’t have to wait three months for a miscarriage.

But what if the damage only showed later?

Her mind spun. What was she supposed to do?

If Dominic didn’t want this child, she could terminate it. The risks were too high.

But she wouldn’t decide yet. Not until she knew for sure.

Should she tell him now?

Standing on the sidewalk, Evelyn watched the cars blur past. Lost.

At Thornfield Industries, Michael Sterling studied the business card in his hand, then the man across from him.

"You’re Eric Montclair’s manager?"

"Yes. He sent me to discuss a collaboration." The manager leaned forward. "His new single, Fly, was meant for an online release. With his fanbase, it would’ve been an instant hit. But he insisted on giving it to Thornfield Industries."

Michael frowned. "Giving it?"

"He wrote it for your company. It could be a product anthem—the lyrics align perfectly with your brand."

Michael tapped the card against his palm. "Haven’t heard it yet. Is it any good?"

The manager stiffened.

"Has he spoken to Evelyn?" Michael asked. "She’s the one who makes these calls."

"Miss Thorne loves the song. But she might refuse it as a gift."

"Then we’ll pay. Call it a collaboration." Michael wasn’t fixated on the song’s quality anymore—Eric’s fame was the real asset.

The manager hesitated. "Eric won’t accept payment."

"Then name a friendship price," Michael countered. "Otherwise, Evelyn won’t take it."

"Fine." The manager sighed. "But you should know—Marvel Tech is gaining ground fast. They’ve signed A-list endorsers, flooded social media with influencers. Their sales are skyrocketing. Why isn’t Thornfield doing any promotions?"

Michael smirked. "So Eric’s pitying us?"

The manager shrugged. "Seems like he cares more about your growth than you do."

Michael’s opinion of Eric shifted instantly. The pretty-boy idol had brains, too.

Next time Eric visited Evelyn, Michael would personally hold the door open.

By five p.m., Evelyn stood outside Dominic’s mansion, her resolve hardening.

She had wavered all afternoon. But this child was his too.

He had wanted it.

Now, he would know.