Chapter 3

Matthew was gone for a full two days.

He was probably busy comforting his beloved damsels in distress—Cynthia and Blaire.

Good. With him away, I could finally breathe.

After our alliance marriage, my social calendar in Ostville suddenly filled up. Soon I received an invitation from my childhood friends.

I happily accepted it.

This time, I wasn't about to shrink my world down to just Matthew. I was going to live for myself, build my own life and my own circle.

The gathering was at a fancy club.

I'd just parked and was heading in when I caught sight of a familiar figure.

Matthew got out of a car and moved quickly to open the rear passenger door, his manner attentive.

Cynthia stepped out, holding tight to a little girl who looked about seven, clinging to her and looking nervous.

It was Blaire.

Cynthia and Blaire were dressed plain as day, standing out like a sore thumb in a parking lot packed with luxury cars.

When Cynthia spotted me, her face went ghost-white, and she ducked behind Matthew like I was something dangerous.

Blaire clung tightly to her sleeve, watching me warily.

What a pair. The delicate flower and her budding little thorn.

Matthew frowned, clearly surprised to see me there.

He instinctively stepped forward, placing himself more solidly between them and me.

"Evelyn, what are you doing here?" he asked, his voice cold.

He sounded like I'd caught him cheating.

I waved my clutch at him. "Mr. Nolan, is this your place or something? I'm just here to see my friends. Do I need your permission to be here?"

His face darkened.

Behind him, Cynthia spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Evelyn, please don't misunderstand. Matthew just saw that Blaire and I are new in town, and our place isn't very nice. He was just being kind, taking us out for a proper meal," she said, sounding timid.

She lowered her head, her voice quivering, almost in tears. "Blaire's never been to a place this nice before."

Blaire instantly followed her cue, grabbing Matthew's hand. "Uncle Matthew, is the food here really good? Mom says we can't even afford meat."

Just that one "Uncle Matthew" was enough to make Matthew's heart melt.

He reached out and patted Blaire's head, his voice softer than I'd ever heard. "Of course, Blaire. Order anything you like. I will get it for you."

I watched their little performance, this perfect picture of a happy family. It turned my stomach.

In my previous life, I'd fallen for it too—the "Uncle Matthew," the whole tragic story.

I'd opened my home to them. I'd poured my heart into caring for Blaire, getting her into the most exclusive private school. And what did it get me? Two vipers I'd warmed against my own skin.

Seeing that Matthew was thoroughly wrapped around her finger, Cynthia turned her fragile, pleading look on me.

"Evelyn, I heard your family has some influence with the school board," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Blaire needs to start school soon, and with her father gone, I'm just not very capable. I'm so afraid of holding her back," she added, her voice trembling.

There it was. The same old act.

Back in my previous life, this was the exact line that got me to pull every string, using my family's influence to enroll Blaire in that elite private school—the one with the six-figure tuition.

I cut her off with a cold smile. "Ms. Evans."

"First, it's Ms. Turner. Or Mrs. Nolan. Evelyn is for my family and friends. You're not one of them," I said, my voice icy.

Cynthia's cheeks flushed a deep, mortified red.

"Second," I said, fixing her with a cold stare, "if you're worried about her education, the public schools in Ostville are perfectly good. Nine years, completely free. No one's stopping you."

"And as for my family's influence," I said lazily, "those are for my family. Why on earth would I waste them on a complete stranger?"

"Evelyn!" Matthew barked, cutting me off sharply. "Don't push it. Cynthia is just..."

"Push it?" I shot back, locking eyes with him. "Matthew, tell me, who's really pushing it, you or me?"

"You want to play the hero? Fine. Give them money, buy them an apartment. That's your business," I said, my voice frosty.

"But do not drag me into it. And keep my family's name out of your mouth," I shot back, my voice as cold as ice.

"I have no duty to help you pay back your debts, Matthew," I retorted, my tone sharp and unyielding.

Cynthia clearly hadn't expected me to shut her down in public. Her eyes rimmed with tears, her face flushing with embarrassment.

"Ms. Turner, I didn't mean that. I just..." she stammered, her voice trembling.

Before she could finish, Blaire suddenly broke free from her arms and rushed out.

"You're evil!" Blaire yelled, her voice high-pitched and furious.

She snatched up a loose piece of gravel from the pavement and hurled it straight at me.

I sidestepped, the small stone whizzing past my shoulder.

"You're being mean to my mom! You're evil. That's why Uncle Matthew hates you," Blaire screamed, her voice shaking with rage.

"Uncle Matthew loves my mom. Why don't you just die?" she shrieked, her words slicing through the air like daggers.

To hear such hatred from a seven-year-old chilled me to the bone.

Those were the exact same words she had hurled at me before she jumped in my previous life.

A cold dread washed over me.

"Blaire, that's enough!" Matthew snapped, his face dark with anger.

He stormed over, grabbed my wrist, his eyes practically spitting fire.

"Evelyn, are you happy now?" he spat, his voice raw with anger.

"Was all that really necessary to say in front of a child? Is this your new game—poisoning her mind?" he demanded, his tone sharp and accusing.

"She's only seven. What do you expect her to understand?" he shouted, his voice cracking with fury.

He stared at me, disappointment and accusation written all over his face. "I was a fool to think you could ever change."

He really believed it. That I had deliberately provoked Blaire, just to make her scream those awful things.

I looked at him and couldn't help but find it laughable.

"Matthew, you'll find out soon enough just how much she really understands," I said coldly.

I shook off his hand and walked into the club without looking back.