C5 Engagement!

Is something wrong?

What could possibly go wrong?

She had always been the superfluous one in the family.

Why the sudden urge to call her?

Evelyn was unfazed and responded with a nonchalant "Oh."

She feigned ending the call.

But Lucille's voice pierced through again, tinged with anger, "Evelyn, Dad's about to be hospitalized with a stroke, and you're still so heartless."

With that,

"Click!"

The line went dead.

A stroke?

Evelyn clutched her phone, rooted to the spot.

After all, that was her father.

Panic began to set in.

Leslie sat in the car, watching her complexion fluctuate between red and pale, prompting him to ask with concern, "Everything alright?"

His voice was gentle, reminiscent of a babbling brook.

"Ah, I'm fine... really, I'm fine." She was slow to catch on, her reaction delayed.

"Get in," Leslie said, extending his hand to invite her into the car.

His hand, with its distinct knuckles, hung in midair.

One second, two seconds, three seconds...

Still no response.

Leslie's brow furrowed in bewilderment.

This girl had quite the nerve.

In Aroonshire City, everyone saw his offerings as a blessing.

Yet she seemed indifferent.

"Evelyn..." He called out softly, a hint of displeasure in his tone.

"Ah..." She snapped out of her daze, quickly adding, "Uncle, I need to go back. There's trouble at home."

With that, she dashed off.

Leaving Leslie to narrow his eyes at her retreating figure.

Inside the car, Dan, the butler, witnessed the scene unfold: a young girl had just turned down Mr. Andrews.

And Mr. Andrews wasn't angry?

Since injuring his legs, his temper had become more volatile and unpredictable, yet he seemed to soften around Evelyn.

Today's turn of events was indeed unexpected.

"Dan, find out who her Prince Charming is," came the icy command from behind, as chilling as the voice of Satan.

"Yes, Young Master."

For some reason, Leslie was curious about Evelyn's Prince Charming.

Was he better looking?

Wealthier?

More influential?

...

At the Solis residence.

Evelyn rushed back home.

But as she stepped into the foyer, she found her father, mother, and sister chatting and laughing together.

"Lucille, did you lie to me?" Evelyn's small hands balled into fists, her cheeks flushing with anger.

"If I hadn't lied, you might have forgotten you even had a family!" Willard's voice was harsh, devoid of any tenderness.

Ever since starting university, Evelyn had insisted on living on campus, steadfastly avoiding home.

"Does it even make a difference whether this family exists for me or not?" Evelyn's grip relaxed as she walked over to the empty sofa, a wry smile on her lips.

"You..." Willard was livid, yet found himself at a loss for words.

After his divorce from her mother, this house had ceased to be a home for her.

"What about me? What have I done?" Evelyn casually picked an apple from the fruit basket and began peeling it with deliberate slowness.

"Evelyn, how dare you speak to your father in such a manner? You must be sick of living," her stepmother rebuked, seething.

Ha!

What a joke.

How does she even have the audacity to speak?

Years ago, before her mother could conceive, this woman had lured her father into an affair and Lucille was born. Later, to everyone's surprise, her mother unknowingly had Evelyn.

"There's nothing for me here. I'm leaving." The past was too painful to revisit. Without dwelling on it, Evelyn rose to leave.

But Willard and her stepmother sprang to their feet, dragging her into the bedroom.

"We've arranged a marriage for you. Tonight, we'll have the 'goods' inspected."