5 He’s Just Got That Temper

“Damn, I’ve been here so many times and never seen a waitress this pretty.”

“She looks so innocent.”

“Yeah, she’s got that sweet, obedient vibe.”

The men around the table chuckled and whispered among themselves.

Vance glanced sideways at Nicholas. When he caught the man’s darkening expression, he immediately understood. This beautiful stranger was most likely Nicholas’s newlywed wife.

Nicholas’s tone was curt. “What are you doing here?”

Evelyn clenched her hands together. Under the weight of everyone’s gaze, she walked toward him, ignoring the others completely. Leaning down slightly, she said in a quiet voice, “Carmen sent me an email. I didn’t know how to respond, so I came to find you.”

“I went to your office, but the receptionist said you were here. I could’ve come earlier, but the traffic was terrible. The car couldn’t move, and I had to walk the rest of the way. I’m sorry—it took longer than I thought.”

Her voice was soft, trembling slightly, but Nicholas heard every word.

Up close, he noticed the tip of her nose was red from the cold, and her already pale face looked even whiter against it.

“Hey, why’s she walking up to Nicholas?”

“You know her?”

Nicholas ignored the comments from his friends. He stood from the sofa and noticed her shivering. When a waiter handed him his coat, he took it, unfolded it, and wrapped it around her shoulders.

With one arm around her, he led her out of the private room.

Graham Morris stared after them, frowning. “Did Nicholas just leave—without saying a word—and with a woman in his arms?”

“That’s his wife.”

“What?” Graham looked toward the door again, his mind racing.

Wasn’t she supposed to be ugly? Eyes, nose, and mouth all squished together?

That? Ugly?

Nicholas clearly had impossible standards.

Outside the club, the driver opened the door of the Maybach. Nicholas guided Evelyn inside, coat and all, before following her in.

The car pulled away into the snowy street.

As the heater hummed and the air grew warm, Nicholas noticed she was still shaking. He reached for a blanket and tucked it around her tightly, muttering as he did, “You start shivering after a little cold breeze.”

His deep voice rumbled above her. Evelyn sat quietly, letting him wrap the blanket around her. When she lifted her eyes, she saw the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the tall bridge of his nose.

Her lashes trembled slightly as she looked at him.

When his gaze dropped, their eyes met.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t mean to bother you. I don’t really know Carmen, but she keeps contacting me. I just... got a little scared.”

Her eyes were clear—pure to the point of fragility.

To borrow Graham’s words from earlier: she looked impossibly innocent, like a flawless gemstone.

Nicholas turned his head, breaking eye contact. When he realized she was still looking at him, he reached up and pulled her scarf over her face.

“Don’t play dumb,” he said. “Remember the rules in the marriage agreement.”

Three or four seconds passed.

When she didn’t respond, he yanked the scarf back down. “What, cat got your tongue?”

Evelyn gasped, drawing in deep breaths of air.

She pressed a hand against her chest and frowned. “You covered my face too tightly. I couldn’t breathe, so I couldn’t talk.”

Then she looked down at his hand still gripping her arm. “You’re holding me too hard. From the club to now, it feels like you’re about to crush my bones.”

Nicholas immediately let go.

At that exact moment, the driver swerved sharply at an intersection.

Evelyn lost her balance and was thrown sideways. Nicholas grabbed her arm—right where he’d just been holding it—and yanked her back.

When the car steadied again, she looked up at him with a straight face. “I think my arm’s broken.”

Nicholas stared at her. “….”

Her arm wasn’t broken—it was dislocated.

On the way back to the Drake residence, they stopped by the hospital. The diagnosis was a mild shoulder dislocation, easily fixed with a quick closed reduction.

By the time they got home, it was already half past seven.

Carmen hadn’t called again; she was busy with work.

Liam came out to meet them at the gate, helping Evelyn carefully out of the car. “How did a short trip turn into a hospital visit? That’s on me—I should’ve gone with you.”

“It’s alright, Liam…”

“Useless,” Nicholas interrupted coldly, striding toward the courtyard. “Skinny arms, weak legs.”

Liam watched him walk away and sighed. “Mrs. Drake, don’t take it to heart. The master’s just got that temper.”

“I understand,” Evelyn said softly.

Her shoulder still throbbed where it had been reset. The doctor had told her to rest overnight.

Liam brewed a pot of seafood porridge for her, and she sat quietly, using her left hand to eat. Her health had never been good to begin with, and now, injured and pale, she drew sympathy from everyone in the household.

She didn’t even have to speak; just sitting there quietly, she could soften anyone’s heart.

Night fell.

The firelight from the fireplace flickered against the tall windows.

Evelyn sat on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket, speaking softly through her phone—checking in with one of her therapy clients.

Her voice was gentle, low and soothing like water.

When Nicholas pushed the door open, that soft tone drifted toward him, brushing against his ears like a feather.

He stopped at the doorway.

For a moment, without realizing it, he listened.

Under the warm glow of the lamp beside her, he could see her calm, graceful face. She had studied psychology for four years and was now interning at a counseling firm under a listed company.

Her voice had always been soft, but he hadn’t expected it to sound even gentler when she was talking to a patient.

It was hard to describe.

It felt like—

Everything had gone quiet. The world outside had slowed. Even the falling snow seemed softer, almost beautiful.

Then Evelyn sensed someone’s gaze.

She sent the voice message, lifted her head, and met Nicholas’s eyes across the room.