The War God Alpha's Arranged Bride (Evelyn and Alexander) novel Chapter 157

**Steps Along Forgotten Roads**
**By Sophia Reed**
**Chapter 157: A Missing Piece**

[Third-Person’s POV]

Alexander sat behind his desk, a storm of frustration brewing within him. The tension of the morning had wrapped around him like a suffocating shroud, and he could feel his heart racing with an unsettling mix of anticipation and dread. Today was significant for two reasons: it marked the day Samantha was expected to make her unwelcome appearance, and it was also the day Evelyn would finally have her stitches removed.

His thoughts were a chaotic whirlpool. It wasn’t that he was particularly anxious about Samantha and Liam showing up—after all, he had navigated the treacherous waters of deception before. No, what gnawed at him was the fear that the moment he laid eyes on Samantha, all his carefully constructed resolve would crumble. The mere thought of her involvement in his wife’s torment ignited a primal rage within him, a visceral urge to confront her with the fury that had been boiling beneath the surface. When he received her acceptance of his invitation to speak, a wave of revulsion washed over him.

Evelyn had been right all along. Samantha was too naïve to understand the gravity of the situation she was stepping into.

While she may not possess the sharpest intellect, she certainly had an audacious spirit. Alexander couldn’t help but muse that Samantha had inherited some of her mother’s sociopathic tendencies. What kind of person would dare to accept an invitation from the husband of their sister—the very sister who had been subjected to unspeakable horrors?

The answer was painfully clear: either a fool or someone devoid of empathy for the lives around them. Perhaps she was a blend of both.

Comparing Samantha to Michael felt futile, given their stark differences, yet they shared one glaring trait: an overwhelming sense of entitlement. Both Michael and Samantha seemed to believe they were deserving of the best that life could offer, without ever having to lift a finger in return. It was a flaw that had led to Michael’s downfall, and Alexander feared that Samantha was on a similar path.

But his concerns about Samantha paled in comparison to the gnawing worry he felt for Evelyn. Ian had been right, as he often was. Evelyn’s physical wounds were healing remarkably well; her wrist and fingers had regained their strength, and the swelling around her ribcage had diminished significantly. Yet, her emotional state remained a mystery, shrouded in distance and withdrawal.

It pained Alexander to acknowledge how little time they had spent together since the brutal attack. Evelyn had retreated into herself, avoiding the dining room and only emerging from her sanctuary to tend to the greenhouse. Each day felt like a relentless reminder of the void her absence created in his life, as if a piece of his very soul had been ripped away. He longed to bridge the chasm that had formed between them, but he refused to pressure her. If she needed space, he would respect her wishes.

Yet, the Alpha couldn’t shake the feeling of desolation that accompanied her absence. Today was pivotal; Evelyn’s sutures were set to be removed, and Alexander clung to the hope that once Ian completed her health assessments, they could begin to heal together.

However, that glimmer of hope shattered into a million pieces the moment he heard Evelyn’s piercing scream. Panic surged through him, propelling him into action like a bullet from a gun. When he discovered that she had outright refused to see him, confusion and frustration collided within him. The real blow came when she insisted he fetch Oliver. What could Oliver possibly offer her that he couldn’t?

A tempest of jealousy and anger coursed through his veins. When he found Oliver engrossed in their work, Alexander confronted him, his voice low and dangerous.

“Evelyn wants to see you.”

Oliver looked taken aback, his brow furrowing in confusion before he nodded and headed off. Left alone, Alexander began to pace the confines of his office, the walls closing in around him. He had never been one to indulge in day drinking, but the tension gnawing at him was becoming unbearable. He made his way to the kitchens, pouring himself a glass of bourbon, the amber liquid burning down his throat like liquid fire.

Just as he finished, he was informed of Samantha’s arrival. A groan escaped his lips. “Fine. Have them wait in the drawing room; I’ll be right there.”

He returned to his office, where he found Oliver looking unusually apprehensive. The irritation from earlier flared back to life, and he couldn’t help but demand, “Care to tell me what the hell that was about?”

Oliver hesitated, his usual eloquence faltering. “Sir…”

Each time he opened his mouth to explain, he faltered, closing it again in frustration. Alexander’s patience was wearing dangerously thin.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify