The Billionaire's Regret

Chapter 3

Chapter 3.

The blue light of the phone screen in the dark car. As well as the grainy but unmistakable image of Vander’s lips pressed against another woman's and the sudden, violent jerk of the steering wheel as her heart had physically seemed to stop. With the addition of the sickening, metallic crunch of the car's frame.

"Evelyn? Oh, thank God. She’s awake! Someone get the nurse!"

The voice was thick with unshed tears. Evelyn turned her head slowly, every millimeter of movement felt like a hot needle through her temple, to see two women sitting in the shadows of the room.

"Mom? Maria?"

Her mother, Cassandra, looked as though she had aged a decade in a single night. Her usually perfectly coiffed hair was disheveled, and her eyes were puffy along the edges with hints of dark bags.

Beside her, Maria was far different than her usual corporate elegance. She was still wearing the silk pajamas she’d been in when the midnight call came, a heavy trench coat thrown over them as a makeshift shield against the world.

"You’re finally awake," Maria said, her voice trembling. She surged forward, her hand hovering over Evelyn’s as if afraid she might shatter the skin if she touched it. "You’ve been out for nearly ten hours, Evelyn. The doctors... they said you were lucky."

" If your head had been just a few inches to the left." Maria choked on the words, covering her mouth with her hand.

Cassandra leaned over, pressing a cool, damp cloth to Evelyn’s forehead, carefully avoiding the thick white bandage wrapped around her hairline.

"Don't listen to the 'what-ifs,' darling. All that matters is that you’re safe and alive, or as close to it as we can get right now."

"I'm so sorry," Evelyn croaked, her eyes welling up with a heat that wasn't from the fever. "I'm sorry I worried you. The car... I just lost control and I wasn't looking..."

"It’s okay, my little girl," Cassandra whispered, pulling her into a cautious, feather-light hug. "Rest now. The police have already been by, and the car is just a hunk of metal. We can buy a hundred cars. But we can't possibly buy another you." She paused, her expression shifting into something more complicated, a mix of hesitation.

"It’s good to see you're fearing better than we expected. well, I believe there are other people who have been quite worried about you, besides us."

"Other people?" Evelyn’s heart gave a painful, thudding kick against her ribs. She knew that phrase.

She didn't need to think much to understand that "other people" meant the Wellingtons, her finances family.

Cassandra exchanged an urging look with Maria.

Maria nodded softly, standing up and smoothing out her wrinkled coat.

" we've all been waiting for you since last night," Maria said, her tone suddenly clipped.

"The Wellingtons haven't left. And Neither has your father. I’ll go get them." She said with a warm smile.

A moment later, the door pushed open, and a small, imposing procession entered. First came her father, his face a mask of stoic relief, though his hands were buried deep in his pockets to hide their shaking. Then came the power couple, Alexander and Beatrice Wellington.

The Wellingtons moved with the practiced, effortless grace as they always did. Even in a hospital corridor at dawn, Alexander’s suit was crisp, and Beatrice’s pearls were perfectly centered. They looked like they were attending a board meeting rather than a bedside vigil.

But it was the man trailing behind them who made the machines hooked to Evelyn’s body start to beep in a frantic, rising tempo.

Vander.

He looked the part of the distraught lover perfectly. His white dress shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, his jaw was shadowed with overnight stubble, and his hair, usually styled into a rigid, golden wave, was messy, as if he’d been running his hands through it in a fit of agony.

"Evelyn," he breathed, his voice a low, melodic tremor. He rushed to the side of the bed, dropping to his knees as if the weight of his relief was too much for his legs to bear.

He reached for her hand, his eyes shining with a look of genuine torment. "Thank the heavens. I thought... when I got the call from the precinct, I thought the worst. You have no idea how worried I was when I heard."

Evelyn stared at him. She didn't see the handsome, grieving fiancé, Rather, she saw a monster. She saw the man who was currently holding her hand with such visible tenderness as the same man she had seen glued to another woman’s mouth in the front seat of his car.

"Get your hands off me," she said. Her reaction was unexpected, causing the room to turn silent. Except for the sounds of the hospital equipment of course.

Vander flinched, his eyes widening in a display of hurt. "Evelyn? Honey, it’s me. It’s Vander. I know you’re in pain, and you’re probably confused—"

"I am not confused, Vander. I am disgusted," Evelyn said, her voice gaining strength as the adrenaline began to override the sedatives.

"What are you doing here? Really? Is the 'distraught fiancé' act for your father’s benefit, or are you just trying to see if I survived long enough for you to continue making a fool of me?"

Vander looked around the room at their parents, a confused, slightly embarrassed smile playing on his lips. "Evelyn, sweetheart, you’ve probably had a traumatic brain injury."

" Excuse me?"

" The doctor said there might be some lingering wounds, but I promise we'll get through this together sweetheart–"

"Do not 'sweetheart' me," she hissed. "Tell me, Vander, how was your evening before you got the 'call from the precinct'? Did you have a productive night?"

Vander’s brow furrowed. He stood up, smoothing his shirt, shifting into a more defensive posture. "It was... a normal evening. I was at the club with some potential investors for an hour, trying to land a business deal, Then I headed back to my penthouse to go over the final drafts for our wedding invitations and some other documents. Why are you asking me this now? Is this really the time for an interrogation?"

"Oh, I think it’s the perfect time," Evelyn retorted. "Because while you were supposedly 'discussing expansion,' I was looking at a very interesting photograph."

"Evelyn, honey," Beatrice Wellington, Vander's mother stepped forward, her voice a soothing, patronizing silk. "You’ve had a terrible shock. A concussion can make the mind play tricks. You might have seen something on social media, some gossip rag trying to stir up trouble. You know how people are jealous of your and Vander’s position."

" I'm afraid this wasn't anything like that of the sort." Evelyn said, her gaze fixed solely on Vander, watching the way his pupils dilated. "It was a photo of your son, in his car, with a woman who definitely wasn't me. And from the way he was kissing her, I don't think they were discussing 'overseas expansion."

Vander let out a short, incredulous laugh. He turned to Alexander Wellington. "Dad, do you hear this? She’s hallucinating." He said in a jesting manner before glancing back at Evelyn.

"Evelyn, I haven't even driven my car since yesterday afternoon. My driver took it due to the fact that it had some issues."