Chapter 3
When Evelyn woke again, she was in a hospital bed.
She slowly opened her eyes to find Callum sitting beside her, his face tense with worry.
When she woke up, he let out a subtle breath of relief–though his cold, domineering air remained unchanged.
“Evie, you really have to stop pushing me like this,” he said, voice firm but oddly soft. “You know I didn’t want to punish you.”
Evelyn turned her face away, eyes closing again.
“I know. It won’t happen again.”
Her voice was quiet, detached. The calmness unsettled Callum more than any protest could have.
He forced a smile, pulling her gently into his arms. “Come on, don’t be mad. I’ve planned something to make it up to you.”
“Next week, we’re throwing you the most grandest birthday party, full venue booked at The Skylark.”
The Skylark–an exclusive Michelin–starred restaurant perched atop the iconic Skylark Tower, known for hosting only the city’s most elite. It had been privately booked only three times: once by the son of a tech billionaire, once by a Hollywood A–lister, and once… by Callum Rivers.
When Evelyn arrived that night, the entire rooftop venue was blanketed in fresh flowers. Scented candles cast a golden glow, and outside the floor–to–ceiling windows, neon lights formed the words: I LOVE YOU.
But staring at it all, Evelyn felt nothing.
No warmth. No joy. Not even a flicker of emotion.
She couldn’t help but wonder–was this love meant for her? Or was Callum using her birthday as a stage to express his love for Estelle?
The elevator dinged.
And out stepped Estelle–Callum by her side.
A bitter smile curved Evelyn’s lips before she could stop it.
Callum frowned and said quickly, “Evie, she just wanted to join the celebration. That’s all.‘
Evelyn lowered her gaze, her eyes catching the way his fingers were interlaced with Estelle’s.”
He seemed to realize it too. His hand jerked slightly, but instead of letting go, he straightened his back and shot her a warning look–Don’t make a scene. “Thanks,” Evelyn said softly, politely.
Pleased by her composure, Callum finally released Estelle’s hand and drew Evelyn into his embrace.
Estelle’s expression dimmed for a second before she masked it with a smile and handed over her gift.
Standing before the windows, Evelyn unwrapped the box.
One glance and her entire body went rigid.
Her blood ran cold.
Inside was a cheap porcelain locket, faintly cracked, with a hand–painted rose on the front. Inexpensive. Fragile.
But she recognized it instantly,
It had belonged to her mother.
She snatched Estelle’s wrist, fury flashing in her eyes. “Where did you get this? How dare you bring this to me as a gift?” Estelle flinched, eyes glistening with sudden tears.
“Evie, I–I just thought it was pretty. I found it in an antique shop downtown. I didn’t mean anything by it. You’re hurting me…”
But Evelyn wasn’t listening. In her mind, she could see her mother’s body flying through the air, hitting the pavement, the blood-
Her hands shook.
Her chest heaved.
Estelle reached for the box. “I’m sorry. If you don’t like it, I’ll pick something else-”
Chapter 3
3500
“Give it back!” Evelyn lunged forward.
The next moment, the locket slipped from Estelle’s fingers.
The porcelain shattered on the marble floor.
“No!” Evelyn gasped and threw herself to the ground, trying to gather the shards, ignoring everyone else.
But in the scramble, Estelle lost her balance.
She staggered, tripped on the edge of the spiral staircase, and tumbled backward.
Her body rolled down the curved steps like a rag doll.
“Estelle!” Callum shouted.
His pupils shrank. He shoved Evelyn aside and bolted down the stairs.
The shattered locket pieces scattered everywhere–some tumbling down the endless spiral with Estelle, others skittering across the floor. “No… no!”
Evelyn knelt on the ground, frantically collecting what little remained of her mother’s locket.
One of the guards burst through the door–and in the chaos, someone stepped directly on her hand, grinding the pieces into her skin.
She didn’t even flinch.
The pain was nothing compared to the ache inside her chest.
She kept her head down, bleeding fingers trembling as she clutched each tiny piece of her mother’s memory.
