Chapter 37
Evelyn’s POV
When I received a photo from my guard, I stared at it for a long moment, confused and trying to make sense of what was happening.
Rowan and Rhys were sleeping in my room, which didn’t seem strange to me, but what on earth was Calvin up to?
A wave of disgust washed over me as I stared at the bedding. The bed sheets felt contaminated because Calvin had slept on them, so I changed them immediately when I got back.
ast night had been one of the longest of my life. I’d spent every minute by Alexis’s side, watching various treatments finally bring her temperature down to normal.
My Alexis had been born without a scent, which made her physically weak and sickly, unlike other healthy werewolf children.
My entire focus had been on my daughter, not realizing my phone had died until I powered it back on and saw several notifications, including photos from the guard.
I noticed messages from Rowan among them and was about to reply when I heard hurried footsteps approaching.
“Dr. Blackwell, Alexis is awake,” my assistant called.
I rushed back to the lab’s medical suite where my little one was recovering. While walking, I quickly sent a voice message to Rowan. The boys were safe at the Viremont Villa with Calvin watching over them—one less thing to worry about.
My baby girl had been feverish all night. When she saw me, her little lips turned downward in that heartbreaking pout I knew so well, and she reached for me with both arms. I gathered her into my embrace, kissing her forehead and cheeks. The knot of anxiety that had been tightening in my chest for hours finally loosened a little.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Mommy’s right here,” I whispered.
She clung to my neck with surprising strength for such a small child. I didn’t try to break her grip, just let her hold on as tight as she needed. I paced the room with her in my arms, feeling her nuzzle against my neck.
“Mommy Her voice was weak, the fever having taken its toll despite having broken.
Though her temperature had come down, her little body still radiated warmth. She wouldn’t let go of me, keeping her arms locked around my neck like I might disappear if she loosened her grip. After soothing her for what felt like hours, she finally fell asleep on my shoulder. I tried to place her on the bed, but she whimpered and held tighter in her sleep.
I kicked off my shoes and carefully lay down beside her. After a sleepless night of worry, with my baby’s warm weight against me, exhaustion quickly pulled me under.
Later, I was vaguely aware of Alexis waking briefly in the night. Through half-closed eyes, I watched as she planted a gentle kiss on my cheek before snuggling back into my arms with a contented sigh, her face peaceful as she drifted back to sleep.
Five days later, when Alexis was finally fully recovered, I brought her home. The housekeeper had informed me that Rowan and Rhys had been staying in my bedroom, and that Calvin had been coming over each evening to have dinner with the boys.
We arrived at the Viremont Villa on Friday evening, just in time for dinner. As soon as we stepped through the door, I heard the excited scramble of little feet. The boys had been playing with building blocks in the living room, and the moment they heard us, they turned toward the door with such hopeful expressions.
This time, their hopes weren’t dashed. The twins’ eyes lit up when they saw us.
“Mom!” they called out in perfect unison.
I paused while taking off my shoes, my vision suddenly blurred with tears. I turned away slightly to wipe them discreetly, then smiled and nodded to my sons.
“Rowan, Rhys, Mommy’s home,” I said softly.
Alexis wriggled out of my arms the moment she spotted her brothers, calling out “Brothers!” as she ran to them. They caught her with practiced ease, their protective instincts already strong despite their young age.
“Are you still feeling sick, little sis?” Rowan asked, carefully examining her from head to toe, looking for any sign of illness.
Rhys circled around her too, his concerned eyes checking her over thoroughly. I could see Alexis warming to him, responding to his genuine worry.
She looked adorable in her mint-green dress and pink candy-shaped purse, her hair glossy around her face, her bangs framing bright eyes that seemed even more luminous after her illness. She looked so small, so perfect—so vulnerable.
I took our bags upstairs to unpack. Once in my bedroom, my eyes fell on the bedding, and I immediately asked one of the staff to change it. Call it instinct or paranoia, but I couldn’t stomach the thought that someone else—him—might have been there.
When I came back downstairs in fresh loungewear, I froze at the sight before me. Calvin was on the floor with all three children, building an elaborate structure with colorful blocks. His suit jacket was draped over the sofa, the sleeves of his crisp white shirt rolled up to reveal strong forearms.
Before I could process my conflicted emotions, three small bodies surrounded me, all calling “Mommy!” I crouched down and gave each of them a kiss, then guided them toward the dining room, my hand protectively at their backs.
During dinner, Alexis was a delight to watch. She sat in her booster seat, enthusiastically eating everything on her plate, alternating between vegetables and meat, egg and more meat, all while making sure to share with her brothers.
“Here, brother, have some meat,” she said, her little face serious as she carefully deposited a piece on Rowan’s plate.
I couldn’t help smiling as I brushed a rice grain from her chubby cheek and wiped her mouth. “Slow down, sweetie. Nobody’s going to take it away p>
She looked up at me with those round eyes that curved into crescents when she smiled, holding her special small spoon like a scepter. “Brothers eat more!” she commanded, and it was impossible not to be charmed.
The boys, seeing their sister’s hearty appetite, ate better than usual themselves, each having an extra bowl of rice. I noticed Calvin subtly taking note of this, always the observant one.
We fell into a rhythm, Calvin and I taking turns serving the children their food. For just a moment, we were simply parents caring for our children, no complications, no painful history between us. I caught myself wishing things could be this simple all the time, then immediately pushed the thought away.
The weekend stretched before us, meaning Rowan and Rhys could stay. Before Calvin left that night, he asked about the car accident investigation. I told him someone was looking into it, though I already had my suspicions about who was responsible.
My life was simple and private; I’d made no enemies in these years—except one. Clara Whitmore, who seemed to wish me dead. The look in her eyes when I last saw her had been more malevolent than ever before.
Calvin, ever perceptive, noticed my expression change.
“You already suspect someone, don’t you?” he asked.