Chapter 474

Ethan Sullivan's phone screen kept lighting up.

Alexander Langley's message was concise and firm: "Time and place."

Sebastian Langley followed up: "Aren't you afraid Evelyn will chase you down?"

Julian Langley's warning carried affection: "Be careful with your proposal. Don't mess this up for our Evelyn!"

Nathaniel Langley's threat was blunt: "Should I order a coffin for you in advance?"

Dominic Langley's words held danger: "If you hurt Evelyn, I'm pulling the legal team."

Theodore Langley's reminder was gentle: "Ethan! Treat Evelyn right. Give her the perfect proposal, or all six of us will come after you."

Ethan smiled as the messages flooded the group chat.

Three years had passed, and he was now part of the Langley family.

The brothers had gone from hostility to acceptance, treating him like one of their own.

Everyone could see his unwavering devotion to Evelyn.

But that oblivious woman still hadn't caught on.

Or maybe she just refused to.

The group chat buzzed with more messages—some practical, some absurd.

Ethan chuckled, warmth in his eyes.

He pocketed his phone and slid into his car.

The proposal venue needed to be set up immediately.

Though he'd rehearsed this moment a thousand times in his head.

And the ring had been ready for months.

Yet his palms were damp with nerves.

Would Evelyn say yes?

Or would she—

No matter what, he had to take the chance.

Meanwhile, Evelyn was buried in paperwork at her office.

When she finally looked up, dusk had settled outside.

She rubbed her stiff neck and checked the clock—6 p.m.

Her phone screen was blank.

No new messages.

No usual check-in.

She frowned.

Ethan always texted her by this time.

Today, silence.

"Still in that international meeting?"

Muttering to herself, she packed up for her dinner reservation.

She was hosting the two partners from Symphony Heights at seven.

The elevator descended to the parking garage.

His Rolls-Royce wasn't waiting in its usual spot.

Evelyn stared at the empty space, unease prickling her chest.

She opened their chat.

The last message was from yesterday.

A strange ache tightened in her ribs.

She shoved her phone back into her bag.

Habits were dangerous.

She couldn't rely on anyone.

Not even Ethan.

Twenty minutes later, her car pulled up to Symphony Heights.

The restaurant was unusually quiet tonight.

No piano music drifted through the air.

She pushed open the door without a second thought.

Inside Symphony Heights—

"She's here!"

"Get ready!"

"The moment she steps in—"

"Focus!"

"Wait—where's Ethan?!"