Unless it was for a particularly sensitive occasion where a chauffeur simply wouldn’t do. 

On top of overtime, Soren paid Gregory triple his regular rate, just in case anything unexpected and complicated came up. 

“Harmony Grove Residences,” Soren said in his usual calm tone. 

Gregory blinked, taken aback for a moment. Normally, their destinations were exclusive clubs or other high–end venues–never a residential complex like this. Still, the name rang a bell. He mulled it over, and then it hit him: Wasn’t this the building where Evangeline lived now? 

The old apartment complex was loosely managed, neglected from the outside and, if anything, even more rundown within. 

After they got out of the car, Glenn carried Evangeline all the way up to her apartment. The elevator rattled and groaned, and the peeling paint on the hallway walls did nothing to inspire confidence. 

Evangeline hadn’t wanted Glenn to bring her home, but her foot was still numb from the anesthetic–she couldn’t feel a thing. Fortunately, she’d always been thick–skinned, and after all the humiliating moments she’d weathered in the past, this barely registered. She allowed herself a brief wish to disappear through the floor, but the feeling passed quickly. 

She opened the door and, hopping on one foot, fetched Glenn a drink from the fridge. 

He took it, glancing around the small space. The apartment was simple–plain white walls, a few cheerful prints brightening things up, the overall atmosphere warm and lived–in. 

He smiled. “It’s nice. Feels like home. The neighborhood isn’t bad, either.” 

Evangeline offered a wry grin. “No need to sugarcoat it.” 

She’d refused Glenn’s advice back then, stubbornly marrying Soren. Now, here she was. She’d half expected Glenn to tease her about it. 

But Glenn just unscrewed the cap and took a sip, saying nothing more. 

Evangeline steadied herself against the wall and started honning toward t 

Chapter 55 

kitchen. “Wait here, I’ll whip something up.” 

She’d originally planned to treat Glenn to a proper welcome dinner at a restaurant, but after the hospital visit, he insisted she come home and rest because of her injury. She couldn’t very well argue. Still, he’d stepped in for her at the Whitmore family’s house and then taken her to the hospital–she couldn’t let him leave hungry. 

She’d barely made it two steps before Glenn scooped her up and set her firmly on the sofa. “With your foot the way it is, don’t try to play the hero.” 

With that, he took an apron from the wall and slipped it over his head, moving with practiced ease. 

It was obvious–he’d been cooking for himself for years. 

The thought made Evangeline pause. She couldn’t help but ask, “Do you have a girlfriend?” 

Glenn stiffened for a split second before answering, “No time for that.” 

She didn’t notice the hesitation, just nodded, unbothered. From the start, Glenn had never seemed interested in women–or people in general, to be precise. He was only passionate about data and robotics. People were flawed, but data could be perfected, and machines could be made to work exactly as intended. 

Once she realized that, she let the thought go. 

They ate dinner quietly together. 

When Glenn left, he and Evangeline agreed on a time to sign the contract. Because of her injury, she couldn’t see him downstairs; she stood at her window instead, watching as he exited the building and drove away. 

Just as she was about to close the curtains and return to her bedroom, she caught sight of a luxury car parked on the street, glaringly out of place among the battered old vehicles. 

She recognized it instantly. Soren’s car–the one he’d just bought not long ago. 

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