Eva had fallen into a deep sleep, her body exhausted from the emotional strain of the day. The quiet solitude of the mansion offered her a brief respite from the overwhelming pressure she felt in her new life. But as the night deepened, trouble was brewing elsewhere.

Andrew was at a dimly lit nightclub with Evander, throwing back drink after drink, his mind clouded with frustration and confusion. The loud music thumped around them, but Andrew’s thoughts were louder. He needed to numb the pain, to drown out the anger he felt toward Eva, toward Jessica, toward everything.

Evander watched Andrew with growing concern, leaning across the table. “Andrew, you’ve had enough. Let’s call it a night,” Evander suggested, trying to pry the empty glass from his friend’s hand.

But Andrew shook his head stubbornly, his eyes glazed over from the alcohol. “How dare she?” he muttered, more to himself than to Evander. “How dare she raise her voice at me? I’m her husband, and she raised her voice!”

Evander blinked in surprise, leaning back slightly. “Husband?” he echoed, clearly taken aback by the word. “Wait, are we talking about Eva? One day ago, you hated her, and now you’re calling yourself her husband?”

Andrew froze, realizing what he had just said. The conflicting emotions inside him were becoming harder to control. Evander, noticing the shift in his expression, smirked.

“Just yesterday, you were all about revenge. Now you’re talking like...” Evander’s voice trailed off in amusement. “What’s going on with you?”

“Stop it, Evan,” Andrew snapped, suddenly defensive. He didn’t like the direction the conversation was heading. “I need to go.”

Evander raised an eyebrow, amused at his friend’s obvious discomfort. “You’re a mess, Andrew. Let me drive you home.”

Andrew didn’t argue this time, stumbling slightly as he got up from the booth. His thoughts were spinning, the alcohol making it difficult to make sense of his feelings. He needed to see Eva, to confront whatever was stirring inside him. Evander gave him a curious glance but didn’t press further. He could tell Andrew was already lost in his own world.

Back at the mansion, the night had grown quiet. Eva was still sound asleep when a sudden knock on her bedroom door jolted her awake. She blinked groggily, sitting up in bed. The knock came again, this time more insistent.

Eva opened the door, and there stood Andrew, his eyes bleary and his stance unsteady. The smell of alcohol hit her immediately. “Andrew? You’re drunk,” she said, her voice filled with concern. “Please, go to your room. You’re not in any condition to talk right now.”

But Andrew didn’t seem to care. He smirked at her, leaning against the doorframe. “Even though you look beautiful,”he slurred, his words dripping with sarcasm and something else—desire, perhaps. He staggered forward, closing the distance between them.

Eva’s heart raced as she backed up, trying to keep space between them. “Andrew, please,” she pleaded, her voice shaking. “You’re not yourself. Go to bed.”

But Andrew wasn’t listening. He grabbed her arm, pulling her close to him. “Didn’t you tell me this morning you’re my wife?” he sneered, his grip tightening. “Then why don’t you fulfill your wifely duties, my dear wife?”

Eva’s eyes widened in fear as she struggled against his hold. “This isn’t right,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her own heartbeat. “You’re drunk. Please, don’t do this.”

But Andrew wasn’t thinking clearly. He leaned in, trying to kiss her, his breath hot against her skin. Eva pushed him away, tears streaming down her face as she begged him to stop. “Andrew, please, don’t!”

With all her strength, she shoved him toward the bed. Unsteady from the alcohol, Andrew stumbled and fell onto the mattress, too drunk to react quickly. Eva took the chance and ran, her heart pounding in her chest as she fled the room. She could still hear Andrew’s voice calling after her, but she didn’t look back.

Andrew lay on the bed, his mind spinning. He stared at the ceiling, feeling the weight of his actions pressing down on him, but too intoxicated to fully grasp the gravity of what had just happened. His thoughts drifted in and out of focus, and before long, he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Eva ran to the other side of the mansion, locking herself in a small sitting room. She sank into a chair, her entire body trembling. Tears continued to flow as she buried her face in her hands, trying to process what had just happened. The Andrew she had seen tonight was a different man—cold, angry, and dangerous.

“How did it come to this?” she whispered, her voice barely audible in the empty room. She had tried so hard to understand him, to give him space to heal, but now she feared that she might never reach him.