Trapped By My Husband's Dangerous Brother

Edward glanced at the screen and immediately snatched it up, placing it face-down on the table.

This reflexive, secretive gesture made Eleanora's heart sink.

As if to cover it up, Edward quickly changed the subject. "By the way, I've hired a designer for the baby's room. They can start next week. Do you have a style you like?"

They discussed the details of the nursery, and the atmosphere seemed to warm up again. But Eleanora's peripheral vision remained coldly fixed on that overturned phone.

Suddenly, the phone vibrated violently again. Edward reached for it, and in the fraction of a second as he flipped it over, the screen illuminated, and two letters pierced clearly into Eleanora's line of sight.

K. P.

Eleanora's pupils contracted sharply. K. P.? Krystal Powell?

Edward snatched the phone as if it had burned him, his face finally showing a flicker of undisguised panic as he silenced the call. "A difficult partner. Don't worry about it."

He was lying. As a top-tier psychologist, Eleanora saw right through his facade. When he shoved the phone into his pocket, his fingertips were trembling slightly.

The romantic atmosphere of the restaurant evaporated. Eleanora didn't say a word; she simply took a sip of her lemon water, her eyes remarkably calm.

The phone vibrated again in his pocket.

Edward could no longer maintain his composure. His face was a mix of annoyance and apology. "I'm sorry, Ellie. I have to take this. It might be an urgent company matter."

He stood up and walked briskly to the restaurant's outdoor terrace, his retreating back looking almost frantic.

Eleanora sat alone at the table, elegantly slicing the steak on her plate, but her heart was growing colder by the second. She wasn't a fool. All the abnormal signs were ringing alarm bells in her mind.

Through the glass, she could clearly see Edward pacing back and forth on the terrace, gesturing animatedly as he spoke on the phone, his expression extremely anxious.

About five minutes later, he returned, his face filled with undisguised apology.

"Honey, I'm so sorry. An absolute emergency came up at the company. I have to go deal with it right now," he said, grabbing his coat.

"Right now?" Eleanora looked up, testing the waters with a sharp gaze. "Do you need me to go with you?"

Edward's eyes shifted, and he immediately refused, "No, it's too chaotic there. I'll have the driver take you home. Love you."

He leaned down and pressed a hurried kiss to her forehead. The moment he leaned close, Eleanora smelled it again—that cloying, sickening scent of gardenia.

Throwing those words behind him, Edward strode away without looking back.

Eleanora sat stiffly in her seat. The call from K. P., the gardenia perfume, the supposed "urgent matter," and the homewrecker showing off online today... All the clues frantically connected in her mind, piecing together a chilling truth.

Just then, her phone rang. It was Chloe.

Eleanora took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice steady. "Chloe?"

"Ellie! Where are you?" Chloe's voice was unusually rushed, even laced with a sob. "I just got into a car accident... at the intersection near the City Hospital! A Porsche ran a red light and smashed into my car!"

Eleanora stood up abruptly, her face pale. "Chloe! Are you hurt? I'm coming right now!"

"I'm fine, just a few scratches... But Ellie, listen to me!" Chloe cried out, breaking down over the phone. "The people in that Porsche... it was Krystal and her baby!"

Eleanora's body went rigid, blood rushing to her eardrums.