Chapter 1

Evelyn's POV

I lay on the overly plush bed in the guest room of Blackwood Estate in Beverly Hills, staring at the ceiling. Today, I—Evelyn Ashford—officially became Dorian Blackwood's wife. Not out of love, but through a cold transaction, a strategic marriage carefully orchestrated by my parents.

The stars outside were dim, matching my mood. Just when I thought this absurd wedding night couldn't get any worse, the sounds coming from the master bedroom next door proved me devastatingly wrong.

"No, be gentle—" A woman's sultry voice carried through the wall, accompanied by deep laughter and suggestive noises.

My temples throbbed as hot blood rushed to my head. God, he actually brought a woman home on our wedding night? While I hadn't wanted to marry this reportedly cold-hearted playboy businessman, that didn't mean I would tolerate such blatant disrespect.

"Stay calm, Evelyn, stay calm," I told myself, but the flames of indignation had already ignited within me. I wasn't born into wealth and privilege. As a doctor at Mercy West Hospital, I was raised by my grandmother in Evergreen Valley, Oregon. Grandma Dorothy always taught me: no one, regardless of their wealth or power, has the right to trample on your dignity.

I threw back the covers and marched straight to the bathroom, filling a basin with cold water. Perhaps this was exactly what Mr. Fourth Son of the Blackwood family needed right now—a sobering splash of cold reality.

Wearing my nightgown, I carried the basin toward the master bedroom. Each step fueled my anger, each second strengthened my resolve. I knocked firmly on the door, the sound especially jarring in the quiet hallway.

"Get lost!" Dorian's voice came from inside, filled with impatience.

I knocked again, harder this time. "Dorian Blackwood, open the door!"

The door swung open. Dorian Blackwood stood there, bare-chested and captivating, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"Disturbing your new husband's good time in the middle of the night? What can I do for you, dear wife?" A sarcastic smile played on his lips as he deliberately allowed me to glimpse the feminine silhouette on the bed behind him.

My heart raced, but I refused to back down. Without letting him finish, I lifted the basin and drenched him with the cold water.

"I was worried Mr. Blackwood might be overheated and damage his health," I said calmly, watching the water cascade down his surprised face, soaking his chest and pajamas.

Dorian's expression transformed from shock to fury in an instant. He stepped forward, his wet hand gripping my wrist. "Do you have any idea what you're doing?" His voice was as low and menacing as a growl.

"I absolutely do," I met his gaze directly, despite my internal trembling. "I'm letting you know that Evelyn Ashford isn't a doormat for you to walk all over."

Just as Dorian was about to explode, a voice interrupted us.

"Master Dorian, Madam." It was James the butler, standing at the end of the hallway with a completely neutral expression, as if the scene before him was nothing unusual. "Mr. and Mrs. Blackwood have just arrived and are waiting for you downstairs."

Dorian released my wrist, a flicker of unease crossing his face. "Now? At this hour?"

"Yes, sir. They mentioned needing to discuss tomorrow's wedding reception," James replied evenly.

Dorian turned to me, water droplets sliding down his perfect jawline. He leaned close, his voice dropping to a whisper only I could hear: "Listen, if you dare say anything about tonight to my parents, I promise you'll regret it."

His threat stung my pride but also revealed an opportunity. Perhaps Mr. and Mrs. Blackwood had no idea what kind of man their son really was.

"Why should I keep your secrets?" I challenged.

Water dripped from his brown curls as he fixed me with a cold, dangerous stare. "Because from today forward, your fate is entirely in my hands, Evelyn. Dare to challenge me, and you'll face the consequences."

James cleared his throat. "Master Dorian, Madam, Mr. Blackwood says the matter is urgent."

I pushed past Dorian and headed straight for the stairs. Since the Blackwoods were waiting, this was the perfect chance to show them their son's true colors.

I deliberately went downstairs in my nightwear, walking confidently into the spacious living room. Victoria Blackwood—an elegantly dressed society matron—frowned instantly at my attire. Her husband Alexander simply gave a curt nod of acknowledgment.

"I apologize for my appearance," I smiled pleasantly. "I wasn't expecting visitors so late."

"We're here to confirm the details for tomorrow's reception," Victoria said stiffly. "Why aren't you dressed properly?"

I blinked innocently. "Oh, I thought it was quite late. Besides, Dorian brought a friend over, so he suggested I use the guest room."

As soon as the words left my mouth, Victoria's expression changed dramatically. She turned to her husband: "Alexander, did you hear that?"

Alexander Blackwood's expression hardened. "Get Dorian down here."

Minutes later, Dorian appeared, having changed into dry clothes, though his hair remained damp. His expression was perfectly composed, as if nothing had happened.

"Father, Mother, what brings you here so late?" He walked to Victoria and casually kissed her cheek.

"You put your wife in the guest room?" Alexander asked bluntly.

Dorian didn't miss a beat. "I was handling some urgent business documents and didn't want to disturb her rest." He turned to the butler. "Isn't that right, James?"

"Yes, Master Dorian has been working in the study until quite late," James lied smoothly. I was amazed at his loyalty to Dorian.

I coldly watched Dorian's charm and perfect appearance, hiding a cold, selfish heart beneath.

Victoria visibly relaxed. "That's good. You've just gotten married; you should be getting along well." She turned to me, her tone softening: "Evelyn, do you have any special requests for tomorrow's reception?"

I felt completely isolated. Was that it? Was a simple lie enough to satisfy them? Looking at this family, I realized that in this luxurious mansion, I might always remain an outsider.

The discussion continued for about thirty minutes, mostly Victoria outlining the reception arrangements with occasional input from Dorian. No one really cared about my opinion. Finally, Alexander and Victoria rose to leave. Before departing, Victoria patted my hand: "Get some rest, tomorrow is your big day."

After the door closed, only Dorian and I remained in the living room. He walked slowly toward me, each step laden with threat.

"Having fun?" He grabbed my wrist, his grip painfully tight.

"Let go of me." I tried to break free, but his strength far exceeded mine.

"Listen, Evelyn, we signed the marriage certificate today. From now on, I can do whatever I want with you." His eyes were cold. "That's reality, whether you like it or not."

"Then let me return to our room," I challenged. "That's where a wife should be."

Dorian chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. "Are you sure? You down to hook up with me and another chick?"