The Day I Married His Uncle

Chapter 4 Those Lips Made Her Lose Control

Adrian looked down at her, his gray eyes gone dark and unreadable.

Evelyn pushed off the arm of the sofa and stood, the liquor loosening her balance.

She reached up and hooked two fingers around his tie, close enough to catch the cool scent of white plum clinging to his skin.

"Not bad looking." She studied his mouth, her tone serious. "Your lips would be good to kiss."

Charlotte's face changed beside her.

"Evelyn, look at who you're talking to!"

"I'm looking just fine," Evelyn traced a finger along his jaw. "What's your name? Keep me company tonight and I'll pay you double."

The surrounding chatter died down one voice at a time.

Adrian stood still and let her come close, his arms loose at his sides, his expression giving nothing away.

Charlotte stepped between them and lowered her voice. "Mr. Blackthorne, she's had too much to drink. She's been talking nonsense all night. Please don't hold it against her."

"I'm not drunk."

Evelyn shoved Charlotte's arm aside, her dress shifting with the motion.

"Damian kissed another woman behind my back and called it a game." She raised her voice, jabbing a finger at her own chest. "I planned a wedding while he had his fun somewhere else. I'm done. This engagement is over."

Charlotte pressed a hand to her forehead.

A few people nearby recognized Adrian, and the young Alphas who had gathered to watch backed away fast, their curiosity gone.

Evelyn kept her grip on his tie.

"If you're willing to keep me company, I might consider trading up."

Adrian looked at her flushed face, a faint smile touching his mouth.

"A few years apart, Evelyn, and you don't even know me anymore?"

The voice landed somewhere familiar.

Evelyn's fingers went still.

The tone stayed low, but the warmth underneath it belonged to a memory she hadn't touched in years.

She lifted her eyes and saw him clearly for the first time that night.

Black hair, gray eyes, pale skin, a black suit cut sharp against his frame — the Alpha who ruled every Pack in Silvercrest City, the man behind the Blackthorne Group, Damian's uncle.

Adrian Blackthorne.

What had she just done?

She'd flirted with him, mistaken him for a hired escort, told him his mouth looked good to kiss.

Heat rushed up her neck, and the haze of alcohol cracked wide open under the weight of it.

"Uncle... Adrian?"

Charlotte let out a breath.

The smile in Adrian's eyes settled somewhere deeper. His fingers curled once against his palm, then loosened. The title pulled the two of them back into the shape of family, and it pressed down whatever had been rising in him a moment before.

"Can you walk?" he asked. "I'll take you home."

Evelyn turned to Charlotte at once, her eyes begging for rescue.

Charlotte opened her mouth. "Mr. Blackthorne, I can take her—"

Henry crossed the room and dropped an arm over his sister's shoulder, cutting her off.

"Charlotte, I need you for something." He glanced at Adrian, his smile knowing. "Evelyn's in good hands."

Charlotte let herself be pulled toward the door, looking back over her shoulder.

"Text me the second you get home!"

Evelyn took two steps after her, and something unseen pressed down on her chest and stopped her cold.

Adrian stood beside her, his wolf spirit rolling out through the room, heavy and impossible to push against.

Her knees gave, and she stopped moving.

He leaned down, his voice landing close to her ear. "Am I someone you need to avoid too, because of Damian?"

Evelyn's eyes went wide.

She would never dare take her anger out on this Alpha.

"No." She shook her head fast. "Sorry to trouble you, Uncle Adrian."

Something shifted behind his eyes.

"Let's go."

This time, she followed without another word.

Outside the club, people stared for a beat too long.

Adrian stopped walking and shrugged out of his jacket, settling it over her shoulders.

Evelyn looked up at him.

"Cold out here." He drew the front closed over her collar. "Keep it on."

She gripped the edges, that white plum scent pressing into her senses.

According to Charlotte, Adrian couldn't stand unfamiliar scents. He'd thrown out a jacket once for being brushed against by a stranger.

Now he'd put that same jacket over her shoulders.

This one probably wasn't coming back either.

"I'll get you a new one."

"You already owe me plenty." Adrian looked at her. "A jacket won't cover it."

"What else do I owe you?"

"We'll settle that later."

The car waited at the curb. Adrian opened the door and shielded her head with his hand as she climbed in, then circled around and got in on the other side.

"Address?"

Evelyn gave the name of her building and pressed herself against the door, turning her face to the window. They sat close enough that she could hear him breathing.

The car dropped into a tunnel, and the world outside narrowed to passing lights and gray concrete.

Evelyn stared at the wall, working hard to look occupied with something.

"Is the view out there interesting?" Adrian asked.

"It's fine."

"You like tunnels."

She blinked and realized how long she'd been staring at the same stretch of concrete. Her face went hot all over again.

"I was thinking about something."

"What."

"When you turn into someone who talks this much."

Adrian settled back against his seat, something like amusement pulling at his mouth.

"Only with you."

Evelyn turned her face away.

Ten minutes later, the car pulled up outside a convenience store.

"Wait here." Adrian stepped out.

Evelyn watched him through the window, a question forming she didn't have the energy to chase down.

He came back with a bottle in hand, twisted off the cap, and passed it to her.

"For the hangover. Drink some."

She took it and looked at the label. "You think of everything."

"You're noticing that now?"

Evelyn scoffed and drank. Warmth spread through her stomach, and her head began to clear as her body eased into the seat.

She leaned back, her eyelids growing heavy.

Her phone rang just as she closed her eyes.

---

Damian pushed through the door of the wedding house and stopped in the entryway.

The sofa, the wine cabinet, the display shelves — all gone. Pale patches marked the walls where they used to stand, and the closet in the bedroom stood empty down to the last hanger.

A servant stood off to the side, head down.

Damian pulled out his phone and opened Evelyn's contact. The message he sent came back with a red exclamation mark.

Beneath it: *You are not yet on this person's contact list. Send a friend request first.*

She'd blocked him.

His calls went nowhere.

"She actually blocked me."

Damian slammed the phone down on the table, and the sound rang through the empty room.

"You've gone too far this time, Evelyn."

He held out his hand toward the servant. "Give me your phone."

The man hesitated, then handed it over.

The call connected fast.

"Hello, who's this?"

Evelyn's voice came through steady, clearer than he expected.

Damian tightened his grip on the phone. "Are you done making a scene? Emptying the house and blocking my number, what exactly are you trying to prove?"

The line went quiet for a beat.

---

Evelyn glanced at Adrian beside her, and her voice stayed level.

"Damian, something might be wrong with your hearing. I'll say it one last time. We're finished."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

"I bought that furniture. I have every right to take it."

"The wedding's already in motion. You don't get to cancel it on a whim."

"We're not married yet." Her tone cooled further. "Cancel the guest list. Your family can handle the explanations."

On the other end, Damian's breath caught, then steadied.

"You're really ending this? Where do you think you'll go without Lowell Pack behind you? I already told you, kissing Bianca was just a game. Nothing else happened, not before today."

Evelyn laughed, short and quiet.

"Nothing else happened?"

"Nothing."

"Then why weren't you at my recital?"

The line went silent.

In the car, Adrian's hand rested on his knee, his eyes darkening.

Evelyn held the bottle in her lap and turned it slowly between her fingers, waiting for an answer that wasn't coming.