Chapter 297

Susan Thompson watched Alexander Grant rummaging through her kitchen with growing unease.

Had he gone mad with hunger?

"Mr. Grant, I only have eggs," she murmured hesitantly.

He turned, holding an egg in his palm. The warm light accentuated his striking features.

Susan instinctively shrank deeper into the couch.

Even holding an egg, he looked like he was cradling some priceless treasure.

"I'm not hungry." Alexander suddenly sat beside her.

His warm fingers pressed the egg gently against her swollen cheek.

Susan stiffened.

"To reduce swelling," he explained curtly.

The rolling sensation felt unexpectedly soothing. Gradually, her tense muscles relaxed.

"I can do it myself—"

"Can you move your hands?" He glanced at her bandaged wrists.

She fell silent.

"Consider me your doctor." His tone left no room for argument.

Drowsiness crept over her. Before she knew it, Susan had dozed off against the couch.

Alexander studied her peaceful sleeping face, his lips curving slightly.

He gathered her carefully into his arms.

In her sleep, Susan suddenly wrapped her arms around his neck and mumbled, "Mom..."

Alexander froze.

"Mom's the best..."

Amused yet unwilling to let go, he carried her to bed.

That night, Alexander slept on the couch in his clothes. Moonlight streamed through the window, making the modest furniture feel strangely comforting.

Meanwhile, outside the apartment complex...

Andrew Lucas stood in the freezing wind, his dark gaze fixed on the illuminated window.

At dawn, he finally saw Alexander's departing figure.

A cold smirk twisted his lips as he pulled out his phone.

"Nicole, come to Willow Lane."

His voice dripped with icy determination.

"Let's have a baby."