That night, the Bentley drove up and came to a stop outside the ornate wrought-iron gates of Bennett Residence.

The driver’s side door opened. Alexander stepped out of the car, walked around to the back, and pulled open the rear passenger door.

"Miss Harper, we’re home."

Elise stepped out of the car and offered a polite, "Thank you."

Alexander smiled warmly. "Don’t mention it. Lily is already asleep, and Robin must be exhausted too. You’ve been running around with them all afternoon, so you must be tired. Get some rest."

"I will." Elise reached out to take Robin’s hand and instructed, "Robin, say goodbye to Uncle Alexander."

Robin waved his little hand at Alexander. "Goodbye, Uncle Alex!"

"Goodbye, Robin. Next time I’m free, I’ll bring Lily over to play with you again." Alexander patted Robin on the head and added, "Go straight to bed after your bath, okay? Your godmother is bound to be exhausted today, so be a good boy and listen to her, alright?"

"Mm-hmm!" Robin nodded eagerly, like a little chick pecking at grain. "I’ll be super good! I won’t make Godmother work hard!"

"Good boy. Robin is so thoughtful." Alexander looked up at Elise. "Go on in."

Elise nodded and smiled. "Alright. Drive safely, and text me when you get home."

"Will do."

Elise held Robin’s hand as they turned and walked inside.

Alexander stood by the car, watching them until they safely entered the villa. Only then did he withdraw his gaze.

As he walked back around the hood of the car and pulled open the driver’s side door, he suddenly froze.

The next second, his gaze shifted upward toward the French windows of the second-floor study.

Through the glass, a tall, commanding silhouette could faintly be seen standing there.

Alexander knew exactly who it was.

Averting his eyes, he slid into the driver’s seat and closed the door.

The black Bentley turned around and melted into the oncoming night.

***

Elise asked Mrs. Lander to take Robin upstairs for a bath, but the boy clung to her, insisting that she read him a bedtime story. The promises he had made downstairs just moments ago were completely thrown out the window.

Elise patted his head and gave in. Only then did Robin happily trotted off to take his bath.

Elise was truly exhausted and worried she might fall asleep the moment she lay down with him. So, while Mrs. Lander was bathing the boy, she slipped back into the master bedroom to take a quick shower first.

As for whether Dylan was home, she didn’t bother to ask.

After her shower, she applied her skincare products before heading over to find Robin.

The boy was already bathed and sitting in bed, clutching his storybook as he waited for her.

The moment he saw her enter, his little face lit up with a brilliant smile. "Godmother!"

Elise walked over, took the book from his arms, and gently tapped the tip of his nose. "You little clinger. Lay down, Godmother is going to read to you."

"Yay!"

Robin lay down, pulled the duvet up to his chin, and closed his eyes.

Elise opened the book, her soft, soothing voice filling the quiet room.

"Once upon a time, there was a little white rabbit. It..."

Before she could finish a five-minute story, Robin was already fast asleep.

Elise closed the book, set it on the nightstand, and reached out to tuck him in. She switched off the main light, leaving only a dim nightlight on.

Then, she quietly slipped out of the room and closed the door behind her.

Lifting a hand to cover a yawn, her eyelids felt incredibly heavy. She forced herself to walk back to the master bedroom.

Pushing the door open, Elise took one step inside and instantly froze.

Dylan was sitting on the sofa, a tablet in his long fingers, his legs crossed, and a pair of glasses resting on the bridge of his nose.

Hearing the door open, his finger paused on the screen, and he looked up. Behind the lenses, his dark, piercing eyes locked onto her.

Elise’s grip tightened on the doorknob as she let out a silent sigh.

If she had known he was coming back tonight, she would have just slept in the guest room next door.

Still, it didn’t matter much. She was so exhausted she could crash the moment she hit the mattress. Whether Dylan was there or not made no difference to her.

Elise walked inside and shut the door.

Ignoring his intense gaze, she walked straight to the king-sized bed and pulled back the covers—

"Where is my black shirt?"

Her hand froze on the duvet. She looked over at the sofa.

Dylan stood up, walked to the foot of the bed, and met her gaze. "The handmade shirt you bought me yourself in Italy during our honeymoon when we first got married."

Only then did Elise realize what he was talking about. She gave him a faint, indifferent, "Oh," before throwing back the covers, kicking off her slippers, and climbing into bed.

"When I was organizing the closet, I noticed a button was missing, so I threw it away."

Hearing this, Dylan’s already grim expression turned absolutely murderous. "You threw it away?"

Elise smoothed out the duvet, saying nonchalantly as she settled in, "You have so many haute couture shirts, you won’t miss that one. If it’s ruined, why keep it? As a souvenir?"

"Elise, you know perfectly well that shirt was—"

Dylan’s voice cut off abruptly.

Elise pulled the covers over herself and looked up at him. "It was my honeymoon gift to you. I remember. But so what? I don’t even want you anymore. Keeping that shirt would just be a mockery."

Elise had never forgotten how the button on that shirt had broken. She had torn it off herself in a fit of passion.

She could tell back then that Dylan had been incredibly fond of that shirt, because he had been exceptionally wild and passionate that night.

Not long after they returned from their honeymoon, she found out she was pregnant. A whirlwind marriage followed by a whirlwind pregnancy—at the time, she thought it was the best arrangement heaven could offer.

Looking back now, it only brought a wave of bitterness.

It was precisely because they had shared such genuine, sweet moments that their current estrangement felt so deeply ironic.

The veins on Dylan’s forehead throbbed. "Elise, are you trying to provoke me to death on purpose?"

"It’s just a shirt. Is the great Mr. Bennett really that devastated over losing a single shirt?"

"You..."

"I’m tired, I’m going to sleep." Too lazy to bicker with him any further, Elise turned over onto her side.

With her back turned to Dylan at the foot of the bed, she adjusted her sleeping position. She didn’t even need her prenatal relaxation music tonight; her eyelids were so heavy that once closed, she had no desire to open them again.

As drowsiness began to wash over her—

Suddenly, the duvet was violently ripped away!

Startled, Elise snapped her eyes open, only to see a dark shadow looming over her. Before she could react, her lips were forcefully sealed!

"Mph—let... let go—"

Elise struggled furiously, shaking her head and pushing against him, but her hands were quickly pinned above her head against the pillow.

Anger surged within her. Steeling herself, she bit down hard on the man’s lower lip.

With a muffled groan, his body stiffened for a fraction of a second.

Elise turned her head away, breaking the kiss.

"Dylan, you’re insane! Get off me!"

Ignoring the bead of blood welling on his lower lip, Dylan stared down at her with pitch-black eyes.

"You threw away my shirt yesterday, and today you run off to see Alexander Hayes. Elise, I’m not dead yet! You’re laughing and talking with another man right in front of my face—do you take me for a fool?!"

Elise could see her own reflection in his dark pupils.

Her brow was furrowed, her expression filled with nothing but disgust.

"Where I go is none of your business!" She struggled against his grip, but her wrists were held fast by his large hands; she couldn’t break free at all.

"Don’t forget, you are still my wife, and you are carrying my child in your belly!"

"Oh, so you do know I’m carrying your child!"

Elise let out a cold sneer. "Then what do you think you’re doing right now? Are you really that desperate? Or does forcing yourself on a pregnant woman give you some sick sense of accomplishment?"

"Shut up!" Dylan’s face was incredibly tense, a raging fire burning in his chest, slowly consuming the self-control he had always prided himself on.

He despised this feeling of losing control...

Elise looked him in the eyes and suddenly let out a weary sigh. "Dylan, I am very sleepy and very tired. If you really have needs, you can go find someone else. I won’t mind. So beat it."