Chapter 2 - The Mansion of Stolen Moments
Two weeks later, Evelyn was officially discharged from Lakeview Medical Center. Though her mind was sharp, her left leg was still weak from multiple orthopedic surgeries, requiring her to use a cane.
Her small apartment had long been cleared out, her meager belongings stored in a facility paid for by the Whitmore Estate. With no money, no home, and a body still in recovery, she had no choice but to accept Noah's next proposition: to live at the Whitmore Manor in Newport until she was fully recovered and Liam had transitioned entirely to her care.
When the sleek black town car pulled through the wrought-iron gates of the estate, Evelyn felt completely out of place. The mansion was a sprawling masterpiece of limestone and glass, overlooking the roaring Atlantic Ocean.
"Welcome home, buddy," Noah whispered to Liam, who was securely buckled in the luxury car seat beside Evelyn. Liam clapped his chubby hands, babbling happily at the sight of the familiar front doors.
The transition was agonizingly slow. Noah had arranged a stunning, sun-drenched suite for Evelyn right across the hall from the nursery. The nursery itself was a child's paradise, filled with educational toys, a plush crib, and walls painted with soft, whimsical clouds.
On her third night, Evelyn sat in the rocking chair, trying to feed Liam his evening bottle. But Liam was fussy. He kept twisting his head away, his small hand pushing against Evelyn’s chest, his eyes darting toward the open door.
"He likes it slightly warmer than room temperature," a quiet voice said.
Noah stood in the doorway, wearing a soft cashmere sweater instead of his usual intimidating suits. He stepped into the room, holding out his hand. "May I?"
Evelyn wanted to refuse, but Liam's cries were growing louder. She handed the bottle to Noah. He expertly tested the milk on his wrist, walked out to the warmer, and returned a minute later.
As Noah knelt beside the chair, he gently placed his hand over Evelyn's hand, guiding the warmed bottle to Liam’s lips. This time, the baby latched on instantly, his little fingers wrapping around Evelyn's thumb while his eyes locked onto Noah for reassurance.
Evelyn looked at Noah, who was entirely focused on the baby. The proximity allowed her to notice the faint dark circles under his eyes, the genuine tenderness in his expression.
"You really did do this alone?" she asked softly. "No army of nannies?"
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"I have a housekeeper and a chef," Noah replied, looking up at her. His gray eyes were inches from hers. "But the nights... the nights belonged to us. I didn't want him waking up in the dark surrounded by strangers, Evelyn. He had already lost you. He didn't need to lose another familiar face."
For the first time, Evelyn didn't see a millionaire trying to control her life. She saw a man who had genuinely stepped into the trenches of parenthood out of love. A quiet, terrifyingly beautiful realization began to bloom in her chest: she was falling in love with the man who had protected her son's life.
