3 Testing

Evening.

A video call came in from the UK.

The IP address read: The Dawson Residence.

Before connecting, Liam leaned over and quietly reminded her, “Madam, it’s from the master’s father.”

Nicholas Drake’s reputation in New York was notoriously bad.

Most of it stemmed from what happened five years ago—when his father, Edward Drake, exiled him to New York and forbade him from leaving.

People outside didn’t know the real story. Rumors said he had used ruthless means that cost people their lives, and that his father had locked him up to contain the scandal.

In truth, five years ago, nineteen-year-old Nicholas interfered in the UK’s general election, causing Edward to lose. Furious, Edward had him confined to the family’s old estate in New York.

Whether it was the fact that Nicholas took his mother’s surname or that he sabotaged his father’s campaign, the two were sworn enemies.

The video call connected.

On the massive flat-screen TV in the living room, the image flickered to life.

A well-dressed woman appeared on the screen, wearing a smile that looked warm at first glance—but the longer one looked, the colder and more cutting it felt.

Liam had told Evelyn that Nicholas’s biological mother had died during childbirth. The woman on the screen was his stepmother.

“Evelyn, right?” Carmen greeted her first. “I’m Nick’s stepmother. You can just call me Carmen.”

Evelyn sat up straight, her hands folded neatly on her knees—calm, polite, and perfectly composed, the kind of demeanor elders liked to see.

She smiled softly. “Mrs. Drake.”

There was the slightest pause on Carmen’s end. Her tone remained pleasant as she said, “How are you adjusting to life after marrying Nick?”

“His temper isn’t great—wild and hard to handle, as you might’ve heard in New York. So if he ever treats you badly, you can call me anytime. Edward and I will stand by you.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Drake. Nick’s been very kind to me.”

“Oh? Calling him Nick already? Sounds close. Have you known each other long?” Carmen chuckled, feigning curiosity. “I remember he never liked spending time with girls. So did he start a secret romance behind our backs?”

Evelyn kept her gaze steady on the screen.

Every word out of the woman’s mouth was layered with testing—disguised as concern, but probing all the same.

“He saved my life,” Evelyn replied calmly. “So I’ll stand by him without hesitation, until the end of my days.”

“Evelyn, you’re still young,” Carmen said sweetly. “In a few years, once you’ve seen more of the world, you’ll learn how to tell right from wrong—and that sometimes it’s better to choose a safer perch.”

Just as Evelyn was about to answer, the sofa beside her dipped slightly. She turned her head instinctively and saw Nicholas’s sharp profile.

He had just come in from the snowy dusk, the cold still clinging to his body.

Without a word, he slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer.

The chill from him seeped through her clothes, making her shiver.

Nicholas noticed her trembling and immediately shot Carmen a glare. “What are you doing, scaring her?”

“Nick, you misunderstood me…” Carmen’s tone turned defensive.

A moment later, another face appeared on screen—a middle-aged man with deep-set, shrewd eyes. Seated in a carved ebony chair, Edward Drake exuded quiet authority.

The moment he appeared, Carmen started to play the victim. “Edward, I was just being kind. Nick got married, and I wanted to show concern. I didn’t do anything wrong…”

Liam entered the frame, carrying a tray. He placed a pot of freshly brewed Darjeeling tea on the small side table next to Nicholas. “Sir, the new tea shipment just arrived today.”

Silence filled the living room.

Eventually, to ease the tension, Carmen wiped away fake tears and apologized to Nicholas.

Evelyn sat quietly the whole time, trying her best to fade into the background.

She thought the conversation was over—until, right before the call ended, Carmen suddenly smiled and said, “Evelyn, I think we’ll get along just fine. I’ll call you next time when Nick’s not around.”

Evelyn froze.

This woman was good at stirring trouble.

Wasn’t that an obvious attempt to make Nicholas doubt her?

When the call finally ended, Nicholas withdrew his arm from around her waist and stood, heading upstairs without another word.

In the master bedroom, Liam followed him in. “Sir, so you really did save the madam’s life? No wonder she defended you like that. She looked terrified of Mrs. Drake, almost in tears, but still managed to say she’d always stand by your side.”

Nicholas took off his coat and handed it to the butler.

He didn’t respond, though he’d clearly heard everything. He’d actually been standing outside earlier when Carmen had asked Evelyn to call her by name—and Evelyn, naïve and obedient, had addressed her as Mrs. Drake instead.

Timid, yes. But not bad.

Easy on the eyes, too.

Meanwhile, Evelyn was still downstairs.

When she saw a maid carrying a tray of hot food toward the hallway, she hurried over. “I’ll take that. I was just about to go upstairs—I’ll bring it to Mr. Drake. You all should rest early.”

Balancing the tray carefully, Evelyn climbed the stairs and stopped at the master bedroom door. She knocked three times before pushing it open.

The room was dimly lit, only a soft amber glow from a floor lamp in the sitting area.

Evelyn stepped inside and looked around. Not seeing Nicholas anywhere, she set the tray down. Then she glanced up—and froze.

Nicholas had just come out of the bathroom.

He was wearing only a towel around his waist, droplets of water trailing from his hair down his jawline, sliding over his collarbone, and disappearing beneath the edge of the towel. His body was all hard muscle and sharp lines.

Evelyn immediately looked away. “I brought your dinner.”

To Nicholas, her flustered, awkward reaction looked like bashful fear—like a girl who’d never seen a man half-naked before.

He picked up a robe from the sofa, slipped it on casually, then sat down at the coffee table and glanced at the steaming dishes she’d brought.