My Bratty Wife

"Eleanor?" Evan called out, his voice laced with doubt and a hint of suspicion. He couldn’t believe she was here, in this remote part of the forest.

Eleanor emerged from the trees, her delicate features composed, though her skirt was slightly ruffled from her journey. She held her skirt up slightly, trying to avoid the damp earth. "My, my, Lord Evan," she said, feigning a surprised smile. "I didn’t expect to find you here."

Evan looked at her, his eyes narrowed, his expression guarded. "What is a delicate woman like you doing here?" he asked, his voice laced with skepticism.

Eleanor shrugged, her smile widening slightly. "I was having a picnic," she replied, her voice light and airy. "And then I heard a loud gunshot. I didn’t expect it to be you."

Evan threw the cigar on the ground, extinguishing it, grinding it into the damp earth with his heel. He removed his gloves, his movements intentional and slow. "You and I both know you’re here for a reason," he said, his voice hard. "I’m sure you followed me here. So spill it, Eleanor. What do you want?"

Eleanor dropped her feigned smile, her expression turning serious. "I want what you want," she replied, her voice low and steady. "We both have the same goals, Evan."

Evan chuckled, a low, wary sound. "What do you know about my goals?" he asked, his eyes gleaming with suspicion.

"For one," Eleanor replied, her voice unwavering, "I know you want Cassandra."

Evan raised an eyebrow, his smile turning into a curious smirk. "What made you think so?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement.