Rise of the Banished She-Wolf Chapter 15

Devon

I was about to explain my relationship with Evelyn when Mrs. Foster jumped in, her voice dripping with venom.

"Mr. Hall, you can't possibly be fooled by her," she said, clutching her designer purse like a shield. "Back in high school, she was—"

Mr. Foster quickly grabbed his wife's arm, cutting her off mid-sentence. His face had turned pale, and sweat beaded on his forehead as he addressed me with a painfully obsequious tone.

"We're actually here to apologize to Evelyn," he stammered, not meeting my eyes. "Our daughter Jessica was out of line. If Evelyn is willing to forgive her, we'll agree to any reasonable conditions."

I studied him coldly, noting how his gaze kept darting between my face and the door, like a cornered animal looking for escape. "So you're suggesting that this can be resolved with money?"

Mrs. Foster immediately piped up, clearly missing her husband's desperate signals to stay quiet. "Well, Evelyn must not need money if she's with you." Her eyes swept over me in a calculating manner. "A girl like her following a man like you... we all know how these arrangements work."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. I felt my wolf stir inside me, bristling at the insult to both Evelyn and myself. What kind of person did they think I was? More importantly, what had Evelyn endured from people like this?

"Mrs. Foster," I interrupted, my voice quiet but sharp enough to make her flinch. "Is that what you think of me?"

She opened her mouth, then closed it again, suddenly aware of the dangerous territory she'd stepped into.

"Evelyn Gray is a friend who deserves my respect," I continued, each word precise and cold. "Not someone you can carelessly slander in my presence."

Mrs. Foster's confidence crumbled under my gaze. Her husband's grip on her arm tightened, his knuckles white with fear.

"We didn't mean—" she stammered, her earlier bravado evaporating.

"I think you should leave. Now." I moved slightly, blocking their view of the hospital room door. "And I suggest you never appear in front of Evelyn again."

Mr. Foster nodded frantically, practically dragging his wife toward the exit. In their haste, he collided with the doorframe, muttering apologies as they scrambled into the hallway.

I watched them from the window as they hurried across the parking lot, stumbling like they expected me to chase them down. The husband kept looking over his shoulder, his arm firmly around his wife's waist, guiding her toward their car.

When I turned back toward the hospital room, I found Evelyn sitting upright in her bed, her face unreadable. From her expression, I could tell she'd heard everything.

"Thank you for saving me and for everything else, Mr. Hall," she said, her voice steady but distant. "But I'd prefer if you left now."

I took a step toward her bed. "Evelyn, I—"

"Please," she cut me off, her silver-gray eyes meeting mine directly. "I don't want people saying I'm your... kept woman. I've had enough rumors following me without adding that to the list."

I wanted to explain that I hadn't considered how my presence might be misinterpreted, that I was only trying to help her. But the determined set of her jaw told me she wouldn't change her mind.

"I don't want to cause you any more trouble because of me," she continued, her fingers plucking nervously at the edge of her blanket. "People talk, and rumors spread. I've seen it before."

The resignation in her voice bothered me more than her request for me to leave. What had happened to make her so wary of connections to others? Of connections to me?

Without another word, I walked out of the room, pausing briefly in the hallway. A nurse approached, asking if I needed anything, but I shook my head and continued toward the elevators.

As I passed the nurses' station, I caught fragments of their hushed conversation.

"...never seen Mr. Hall visit anyone before..."

"...wonder who she is to him..."

"...must be someone special..."

I realized then what Evelyn meant. My mere presence had already sparked speculation. For someone trying to maintain a low profile, association with me was like standing in a spotlight.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Jason's number, my voice low as I stepped into the elevator. "Arrange for Mrs. Whitmore to care for Evelyn at the hospital. Don't tell Evelyn she's my employee—she won't accept the help if she knows it's from me."

Back at the office, I sat at my desk, staring blankly at the documents before me. The meeting I should have been preparing for seemed trivial compared to the image of Evelyn in that hospital bed, trying so hard to maintain her independence even while injured.

Jason knocked and entered, his expression cautious. "Sir, there's a call from Foster Industries. Mr. Foster is personally requesting to speak with you."

"Effective immediately, halt all cooperation between Hall Corporation and Foster Industries," I said without looking up. The decision came easily, without a second thought.

Jason nodded, making a note in his tablet. "And about Mrs. Whitmore—she'll be at the hospital within the hour. She'll present herself as a general caregiver, not connected to you."

"Good." I leaned back in my chair. "Make sure she has everything Evelyn needs, but be discreet."

After Jason left, I turned my chair toward the window, gazing out at the Seattle skyline. The strange protective instinct I felt toward Evelyn confused me. I'd built my reputation on cold calculation, not emotional responses.

Yet something about her—her independence, her resilience despite being wounded, the way she'd refused to be seen as a victim—had gotten under my skin. I wanted to help her, to protect her, even when she made it clear she didn't want my protection.

I sighed heavily, watching clouds gather over the distant mountains. Our bond flickered in and out like a broken radio signal. One moment, I could almost sense her, the next—nothing.

For the first time in years, I felt powerless—not as an Alpha, not as a CEO, but as a man trying to understand his own heart.