After a while, Damian coughed slightly, as though only just realizing how loud Sylvia had been.
“Why are you screaming so loud?” His voice was completely flat, as though he genuinely hadn’t understood what had happened.
“Are you planning to tear down the estate?” Sylvia’s chest rose and fell furiously as she stared at him.
She pointed to herself and then at him, unable to believe the audacity of his question.
“Damian, you dare to ask me that?” she rasped.
“Of course I dare,” Damian replied without hesitation.
“Besides, your screaming was quite uncalled for.
It was a clear indication that you are uncultured.” He delivered the insult so calmly that it only made Sylvia angrier.
Sylvia clutched the gown tightly against her chest as she closed the distance between them.
“Uncultured?
Did you just call me uncultured?” “Otherwise?” Damian challenged, a cold smirk tugging faintly at the corner of his lips.
He could hear the way she breathed heavily through her nose, and that alone was enough to tell him that she was thoroughly pissed.
For a brief moment, his lips curled upward in amusement before the expression disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.
A thought flashed through his mind.
‘The days certainly won’t be boring with someone like her around to piss off.’ Unaware of his thoughts, Sylvia continued her tirade.
“You really dare to say that?
Shouldn’t the worthy son of the Evercrest family at least have some common sense of decorum and knock before entering a room that isn’t his?” Damian scoffed.
“Decorum?
A room that isn’t mine?” He shook his head, tapping his cane against the floor several times.
“How is this room not mine?
This is Evercrest Estate, not the Quinn family’s.” Then, as though he had just thought of something amusing, he smiled.
“You want a room that belongs to you?
Then return to the Quinn family and live there.” Sylvia’s brow furrowed slightly.
“Really?” She sneered.
She walked around him until she reached his back, still clutching the wedding dress tightly against her chest.
Stopping directly behind him, she leaned forward slightly.
Her loose hair brushed against his cheek, and Damian immediately swallowed hard.
The faint fragrance of her hair drifted into his nostrils.
His fingers instinctively tightened around the handle of his cane as he fought the sudden urge to reach up and touch the strands that had brushed against his face.
The thought alone made the tips of his ears redden slightly.
“Why do I have the feeling that you are quite a dumbass?” Sylvia asked, unaware of whatever thought going through his mind.
Her words instantly snapped him out of his brief reverie.
Damian’s expression stiffened, and he couldn’t help but grumble under his breath.
‘What was I even thinking?’ Sylvia, however, continued without giving him any opportunity to respond.
“I got married to you, and from that moment…” She paused deliberately before continuing, “I gained the same standing as you, Mr.
Evercrest.” She slowly straightened herself and gave a disdainful scoff.
“And if you think you can force me to return home, then you are in for a serious disappointment.” She lifted her hand and slowly caressed his cheek, her lips curving into a provocative smile.
“Dear husband.” That said, she turned around to walk away, but remembering she was covering her front and moving forward would only expose back.
She stopped, lowered the dress and stepped into it.
Then she carefully pulled it over herself, unwilling to walk around with her bare back exposed.
Then she suddenly remembered something.
She slapped her palm lightly against her forehead in frustration.
‘He can’t even see.’ Why had I bothered covering myself in front of a blind man?’ Unwilling to waste another breath arguing with him, Sylvia removed the dress again and tossed it onto the bed before walking toward the bathroom in nothing but her lingerie.
Damian drew in a deep breath as he felt a sudden tightness at a particular spot.
He gritted his teeth as irritation flashed across his face.
‘What the hell?
She really has no manners.’ He tried to push the strange sensation aside, but when he heard her footsteps approaching the bathroom door, another thought surfaced in his mind.
There was one question that had been bothering him ever since she entered the Evercrest Estate.
“Was it because of the investment into the Quinn’s Group?” Damian’s calm voice suddenly drifted across the bedroom.
Sylvia stopped in her tracks, her eyes flickered slightly before it vanished.
Slowly, she turned around and stared at him.
His eyes remained hidden behind the tinted glasses, making it impossible for her to determine what expression he was wearing.
For several seconds, neither of them spoke.
Then Sylvia’s lips slowly curled into a knowing smile.
“What do you think?” “I just think…” Damian’s brows furrowed slightly.
He seemed to reconsider his words before finally shaking his head.
“Anyway, never mind.” He grabbed his cane and carefully tapped it against the floor as he turned his wheelchair toward the door while Sylvia watched him silently.
“You should dress properly,” Damian said casually.
“Evercrest Estate has always been humid, regardless of how bright the sun is.
You might not want to catch a cold.” A faint smirk appeared on his lips.
He pressed the switch, and the wheelchair rolled forward.
Just before reaching the door, he stopped and reached for the doorknob.
“Don’t be late for dinner.
Seven o’clock.” With that, he pulled the door open and left.
The door closed behind him with a soft click.
The sound snapped Sylvia out of her thoughts.
‘Wait… what just happened?’ She remained standing where she was, staring at the closed door.
Then his words replayed in her mind.
‘You should dress properly… Evercrest Estate has always been humid, regardless of how bright the sun is.
You might not want to catch a cold.’ “Impossible…” she muttered.
Her thoughts immediately began spinning.
“He shouldn’t be able to see, right?” That was exactly what everyone had told her.
Damian Evercrest was visually impaired.
‘So how on earth had he known that she was barely dressed?’ Sylvia frowned deeply.
“Was he actually impaired?” She stopped herself before finishing the thought.
For a moment, suspicion flickered through her eyes.
Then she shook her head firmly.
“No.
I’m definitely reading too much into it.” She sighed and turned toward the bathroom.
“Anyway, I’ll keep his reminder in mind.
I still need my health if I’m going to survive in this place.” With that, she disappeared into the bathroom.
Meanwhile, Damian returned to his room, summoning his assistant along the way through the wireless Bluetooth in his ear.
Mark followed him back to his room, however the moment he entered, his brow furrowed as he stared at Damian for several seconds longer.
Something about his boss seemed different.
He couldn’t quite explain it, but Damian seemed unusually distracted.
‘Had something happened at the company?’ “Sir…” But Damian just raised his hand.
“Get me a glass of cold water.” Mark blinked.
“Cold water?” “Do I have to repeat myself?” “I am sorry, sir, but you can only take warm water, not cold water,” Mark countered carefully.
“Otherwise, the pain in your leg could become three times worse.” Damian’s fist clenched tightly against his knee.
‘Is it really that difficult to ask for a glass of cold water?’ He remained silent for several seconds and exhaled quietly.
“Boss, what is going on?” Mark pressed.
He stepped closer and placed the back of his hand against Damian’s forehead, checking for a fever.
“You aren’t burning up.” Damian immediately moved his head away.
“Must something be going on simply because I asked for cold water?” His response was calm and perfectly controlled…almost skillfully.
There was no way he could tell Mark that he had just come from Sylvia’s room.
He dared not tell him that after she screamed so loud, he had instinctively guessed why she screamed.
Neither would he dare to tell him that he had imagined what she might have looked like since his sight wasn’t there to tell him more.
His sight might have been impaired, but it wasn’t completely absent.
Sometimes, he could distinguish vague shapes and blurry images, though they were never clear enough for him to identify details.
That was exactly why he had relied more heavily on his other senses.
Seeing him being difficult, Mark scratched his head, and the next moment, his eyes widened.
“You went to her room?” Damian’s expression remained unchanged.
Without answering, he quickly rolled his wheelchair toward the floor-to-ceiling window.
His gaze settled on the sprawling skyline beyond the glass, his back deliberately turned toward Mark.
The silence was answer enough.
Mark stared at him for a moment before sighing.
“I already had it arranged… the room will be done tomorrow.” “Ooh,” Damian replied casually, pretending to be completely disinterested.
Mark narrowed his eyes as he noticed Damian’s fingers tapped lightly against the armrest.
He was certain he had more instructions and he couldn’t help but wonder what he wanted.
“You might have to pick up a few of my personal items and send them over there during dinner…” Damian instructed calmly then he paused briefly.
“Or perhaps tomorrow morning.” Mark’s brows rose.
“Your personal items?” Damian said nothing.
‘Do I have to speak it out so clearly?’ He mused.
Yet he simply continued staring out the window as though the skyline had suddenly become the most fascinating thing in the world.
Staring at his boss’s back, Mark couldn’t help wondering what exactly was going on with him.
But after a moment, he decided not to press any further.
A soft sigh escaped his lips.
‘Forget it.’