3. Unspoken Kindness

Evelyn's First POV

The massive black iron gates of the Sterling estate swung open silently, revealing a sprawling manor surrounded by manicured gardens. When the car pulled up to the main entrance, the driver opened my door and escorted me inside.

A house butler led me up a sweeping marble staircase to the second floor, pushing open a pair of double doors.

"This is your private suite, Miss Evelyn," he said with a respectful bow.

I stepped inside and froze. The bedroom was immense, bathed in soft afternoon light from floor-to-ceiling windows. Beyond the king-sized bed lay an open archway leading to a fully stocked walk-in closet. Rows of elegant dresses, tailored suits, shoes, and pristine accessories filled the shelves—all tailored precisely to my size. Every detail had been meticulously prepared.

A soft knock at the open door made me turn.

A poised woman in her fifties entered the room. She wore a simple yet elegant emerald dress, her expression calm and composed. This was Eleanor Sterling, Alexander’s mother.

"Welcome to the family, Evelyn," Eleanor said, her voice smooth and measured. "Dinner is served at seven o'clock sharp every evening. Breakfast is at eight. We expect punctuality, but otherwise, you may treat this house as your own."

Her tone sounded somewhat strict, almost formal. But as I looked into her eyes, the familiar hum of unsaid words vibrated in my mind.

I hope she isn't frightened by how quiet the house is, Eleanor’s inner voice echoed softly. She looks so thin... I had the chef prepare five different regional dishes for dinner tonight just in case she is a picky eater or has dietary restrictions. I hope she feels at home.

I blinked, genuinely stunned. On the surface, she maintained a perfectly cold posture, yet her mind was buzzing with quiet concern for my comfort.

"Thank you, Mrs. Sterling," I managed to say, keeping my voice polite.

"Call me Eleanor," she replied curtly before turning on her heel. "Come downstairs. My husband would like to welcome you before Alexander arrives."

I followed her down to the formal drawing room, where Richard Sterling sat reading a newspaper. He set the paper aside as I walked in, his sharp gaze assessing me over his glasses.

"Evelyn," he said, gesturing to a seat. "Your father mentioned you were taking classes before the marriage arrangement. What is the status of your education?"

I stiffened, instinctively preparing for a reprimand. "I was taking night courses in business finance while working, sir."

Richard nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. "I see."

Then, his thoughts leaked into my mind.

Finance? That's impressive for someone her age. It's a shame her family didn't fund her proper university enrollment. If she wants to return to school full-time or get a master's degree, we should cover all her tuition fees immediately. A bright mind shouldn't be wasted.

My throat tightened, a sudden lump forming in my chest.

In my old life, my own father had mocked me, calling me useless while forcing me to pay for Vanessa's luxury shopping sprees with my hard-earned tips. Yet here sat a man I barely knew, silently planning to fund my future without expecting anything in return.

I pushed the sudden rush of emotion deep down. Don't drop your guard, I reminded myself sternly. People in high places always have motives. You cannot trust anyone blindly again.

"Thank you for asking, Mr. Sterling," I replied softly, keeping my wall up.

At six o'clock, heavy, steady footsteps echoed through the hallway.

The air in the room seemed to shift as Alexander Sterling stepped inside. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp feature lines and deep, dark eyes that carried an intimidating intensity. He wore a crisp charcoal suit, his presence commanding the space effortlessly.

He was far from the "ugly man" Vanessa had described in her bitter memories. He was striking, though his expression was entirely guarded.

Alexander loosened his tie slightly as his gaze settled on me.

"Evelyn," he said. His voice was deep and low. "Is your room satisfactory?"

"Yes," I said, watching him closely. "It's more than enough."

"Good," he said plainly, setting his briefcase on a side table. "If you need anything adjusted, tell the housekeeper. Furthermore, you are free to pursue your studies or seek employment whenever you wish. You are not a prisoner here."

He was quiet and reserved, but his words were direct. Intrigued, I focused my mind, straining to hear the inner thoughts of the man standing before me. I wanted to know what dark secrets or cold calculations lay behind his dark eyes.

I reached out with my ability...

Nothing.

Complete, absolute silence.

My heart skipped a beat. I tried again, focusing entirely on Alexander as he took off his jacket. But I couldn't pick up a single faint whisper from him. His mind was an impenetrable vault.

I swallowed hard, a prickle of caution washing over me. Why couldn't I hear him? What made him different?

While Alexander went to change, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out to find several notification pop-ups.

Vanessa had been busy.

She had flooded the family group chat and her public social media page with photos of her and Daniel's modest wedding setup. One photo showed a cheap silver-plated ring, captioned: "True love doesn't need mansions or billionaire titles. Building an empire together from scratch with the man who truly adores me! 💕✨ #RealLove #Blessed"

My mother had already replied in the group chat: "So proud of you, my angel! Pure love always triumphs over greed!"

A second later, a private message popped up on my screen from Vanessa.

Vanessa: How's the cold, empty castle, Evelyn? Did your ugly, emotionless husband even bother to look at you today, or is he ignoring you already? Don't worry, you can always cry into your expensive pillows while Daniel and I sleep in each other's arms tonight.

I stared at the screen, a dry, sarcastic smile touching my lips. Vanessa was so consumed with her fantasy of "stealing my future" that she was desperately trying to validate her choices. She had no idea she had just voluntarily tied herself to a monster.

I locked my phone without replying and placed it back into my pocket.

Shortly after, Alexander returned to the drawing room, now wearing a relaxed dark sweater. He sat on the sofa opposite me and poured himself a glass of water. As he set the glass down, his dark eyes lingered on my hands.

More specifically, he was looking at the sleeves of my cardigan.

The cuffs were frayed, worn down from years of heavy use and late-night study sessions at the diner. Compared to the opulent surroundings of the Sterling manor, my faded clothes stood out starkly.

I instinctively pulled my sleeves down to cover my wrists, feeling a sudden sting of self-consciousness.

Alexander didn't mock me. He didn't even frown. He simply looked up, his face as calm and unreadable as ever.

"Tomorrow morning, clear your schedule," Alexander said in his quiet, commanding tone. "I will take you shopping."