Genevieve froze, stunned.
In the past, whenever she'd mocked or targeted Charlotte, Evander had never stepped in—not once had he defended Charlotte or spoken on her behalf.
So what had gotten into him this time?
Charlotte, too, sat in silence, suddenly unable to read Evander's intentions.
After that slap, Genevieve finally quieted down, not daring to speak out of turn again, though every glance she threw at Charlotte was filled with seething hatred, as if wishing she could tear her apart right then and there.
Charlotte couldn't be bothered to respond. If it weren't for the fact that this was the matriarch's birthday celebration, she wouldn't have shown up at all.
Several women came over, eager to chat. Charlotte put on her best manners, making polite conversation and sipping her wine. As the party drew to a close, the act became unbearable—she just wanted to leave.
She slipped upstairs, heading toward the guest bedroom.
As she pushed the door open, someone suddenly grabbed her arm. Off-balance, she stumbled and fell against a man's chest.
"Evan—" she began, but before she could finish, Evander's lips crashed down on hers.
Her eyes widened in shock, her body rigid in his embrace. His touch was burning, hotter than she'd ever felt—and even through his clothes, she sensed something was wrong.
Stunned, Charlotte pushed at him. "Evander, wait—look at me, it's me—"
Just then, she heard the distinct click of the door being locked from the outside.
She froze, heart racing.
Who would do that? The matriarch? Her mother-in-law? But her mother-in-law had always disliked her, desperate to replace her at the first opportunity. And the matriarch had already agreed not to interfere with her and Evander's divorce. None of it made sense…
But she didn't have time to think.
Evander was already losing control, desperate to have her.
Panicking, she struggled. "Evander—please—"
But the thing she feared most still happened.
He was like a wild animal, utterly disregarding her protests.

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