The War God Alpha's Arranged Bride (Evelyn and Alexander) novel Chapter 123

**Steps Along Forgotten Roads**
**By Sophia Reed**
**Chapter 123: How To Spin The Story**

[Third-Person’s POV]

The atmosphere in the house felt heavy, charged with an unspoken tension that Alexander couldn’t shake off as he moved through the day. His thoughts were consumed by Evelyn, whose demeanor had shifted dramatically after her confrontation with Michael in the holding cells. He recalled how he had overheard the heated exchange, every word echoing in his mind, layering his concern with an unsettling sense of dread.

When Evelyn had collided with him in the dimly lit corridor, her expression was one of profound disconnection, a haunting look that sent a chill down his spine. It was as if she had stepped into a void, far removed from the world around her. He could sense the turmoil roiling beneath her surface—anguish, anger, disappointment, and a sorrow so deep it threatened to consume her.

Alexander couldn’t help but admire how Evelyn had handled herself during that encounter with Michael. She had articulated her feelings with a fierce clarity, just as she had promised him in his office before he reluctantly handed over the key to the holding cells. He knew she wasn’t deceiving him; rather, she had faced the situation with a strength that he found both admirable and terrifying.

He was all too aware of the kind of irritation Michael could provoke in others. It was entirely possible that Evelyn might have been tempted to hurl a few sharp words—or even something more dangerous—at him, given the circumstances. Yet, she had maintained her composure, embodying a lethal grace that was both captivating and unsettling.

The only moment when her restraint seemed to falter was when her fist collided with the lock, the sound reverberating through the air like a gunshot. It startled Alexander, making him almost leap from his spot. The force of her frustration had been palpable, and he hesitated, torn between concern and the instinct to check if her hand had been injured. Even Michael, with his usual arrogance, had been momentarily shaken by her display of raw emotion.

Her final words to Michael haunted him, a chilling mantra that repeated in the back of his mind. “If my brother doesn’t make it out of that coma, I will find a way to kill you myself. He’s the only real family I have left, and I’ll be damned if I lose him because some narcissistic sociopath is jealous over his own siblings’ achievements.”

Oliver had been right; Evelyn had tapped into a depth of rage that was unsettling. His friend’s voice echoed in his thoughts, warning him that this kind of fury was perilously close to something far darker. It was clear to Alexander that Evelyn was not okay. He didn’t need to ask; her silence as they ascended the staircase spoke volumes.

Instead of heading toward the greenhouse, she turned toward the bedroom, likely seeking solace after such an intense confrontation. He felt a surge of empathy for her; the poor woman must have been utterly drained. He couldn’t blame her for wanting to retreat from the chaos that surrounded them.

Yet, this only amplified his concern for her well-being. With a heavy heart, he forced himself back to his office, determined to concentrate on the case file before him. The looming threat of Michael potentially exposing Alexander’s secret weighed heavily on his mind. He wouldn’t put it past Michael to attempt one final act of sabotage, and it was imperative that they secure Alexander’s position.

As he sat down to work, Oliver entered the room, his expression alight with curiosity and anticipation. “How did it go?” he asked, his eyes glinting with eagerness.

“Evelyn is resting in our room,” Alexander replied, trying to sound composed. “No blood was shed, but she did threaten Michael’s life if Edward doesn’t wake up from his coma.”

Oliver’s eyes widened, but there was an unmistakable glint of admiration in his gaze. “Good for her,” he remarked, a hint of pride in his voice. “On another note, have you come up with a strategy for presenting this case to the Royals?”

The thought of Michael being present during the trial cast a shadow over Alexander’s plans. He shook his head, frustration gnawing at him. There had to be a way to turn this situation to their advantage…

[Evelyn’s POV]

I found myself caught in a whirlwind of thoughts, debating whether or not to join Alexander for dinner that evening. It wasn’t that I was deliberately trying to avoid him or anyone else; rather, I was struggling to shake off the oppressive weight of dread that clung to me like a shroud.

Since that fateful moment when Alexander and I had emerged from the holding cells, my mind had been replaying every detail of my confrontation with Michael like a broken record. With my head tilted back against the pillow, I dissected every word I had exchanged with him, every glance he had thrown my way—the eye rolls, the smirks—each one etched into my memory like a painful scar. I desperately wanted to believe that my words would linger in his mind, that they would resonate long after our encounter. Yet, uncertainty gnawed at me.

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