Evelyn's PoV:

Friday came faster than I'd hoped, and I still wasn't sure about going with Alex to his house. The past few days had been exhausting, with the relentless stares and hushed laughter wherever I went. The news from King's Gossip had spread like wildfire. Some people seemed satisfied with watching me squirm from afar, but others were bolder, muttering insults or worse. If it weren't for my friends, I'd be drowning. Whenever those smug glances or whispered taunts started, Alex would shoot a fierce look that sent people back to their plates, or Max would slam his fist on the table, silencing the whole cafeteria. Maeve even stood up on a bench once and told everyone off with a speech that I think people are still talking about. It was tiring and more intense than anything I'd experienced before, but their support made it easier to hold my head up.

Still, as I stepped into the sleek, black Mercedes waiting outside campus, nerves flooded back. Alex was by my side, greeting Albert, his family's chauffeur, who gave us both a kind, sad smile. I could sense that he understood more than he let on. Somehow, that smile was comforting, like he was rooting for us.

The drive was quiet, Alex's hand in mine as we drove through the countryside until we reached his estate. I thought I'd prepared myself for this, but the sight of his home-a sprawling mansion that looked more like a palace than a house-left me breathless. Manicured lawns stretched out for acres, with gardeners clipping hedges into neat shapes, sculpting the trees, and arranging flower beds with precision. I knew Alex came from wealth, but this? This was something out of a fairy tale, or maybe a documentary on royalty.

We stepped out of the car, and he wrapped his arm around me as we walked toward the grand doors, both of us quiet. Inside, we were met by Maria, the housemaid, who greeted Alex warmly with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, then looked at me with an approving grin. "And is this your girlfriend, Alex?" she asked with a glint in her eye.

"Yes, this is Evelyn," Alex said, and Maria's face lit up as she pulled me into a quick hug as well.

"Lovely to meet you, my dear," she said warmly before taking my coat. She whispered to me as she did, "You must be very special to him."

Her warmth was contagious, calming my nerves as she led us further into the house. We had the place to ourselves for the moment, with Alex's parents due any minute. He led me to his room-a cavern of a space filled with everything that screamed Alex, a hidden world of his own. Photographs covered the walls, along with sketches and drawings, some of which I'd seen in passing before, but not like this. I could feel his nervous energy as he paced around, clearly debating how to approach the inevitable conversation with his parents.

I reached out, tugging him down beside me on the bed. "Take a breath," I whispered. "Show me what's really here, not just the polished stuff."

He paused, then went to a drawer and pulled out a portfolio, handing it to me. "These are my recent ones," he said, settling in beside me. As I opened the portfolio, I recognized a few photos from our time together-a sunset from the day we first met, a shot of me laughing, partly covering my face, a few candid ones from gatherings with friends. And then I saw a sketch from our Christmas break-a drawing of me curled up with a book, absorbed in studying.

"You were drawing me that whole time," I said, nudging him with a laugh. "You said you were just doodling."

"I was," he mumbled, a slight pout appearing, which only made me laugh more. He finally gave in, chuckling along. "Maybe I'm a little obsessed."

I raised an eyebrow, playfully mocking his serious expression. "Obsessed? Just a little?"

"Maybe more than a little," he admitted, leaning closer, his smile mischievous. And then, in that quiet, private space, he kissed me, soft and slow. The world outside faded, and it was just us.

Then, a knock at the door jolted us back to reality. Maria's voice came through, gentle but firm. "Your mother is here, Alex. And your father's on his way."

The nerves hit me all over again, and Alex took my hand, squeezing it. "You ready?" he asked, and I forced a nod, even though I could feel my heart pounding.

We made our way to the grand hall, and there was his mother-every inch the image of wealth, grace, and sharp critique. She barely looked at us as she walked in, instead focusing on the house staff who trailed behind her, each one carrying armfuls of designer shopping bags. She barked instructions at them, listing where each brand should go as if her entire existence depended on its exact placement. She finally paused to look at Alex with a slight frown, noting, "You didn't use the skincare cream I got you for Christmas, did you? Your skin's looking a bit dry."

She shifted her gaze to me, eyes trailing over my face with a flicker of approval. "Now, that's good skin," she noted, as if I were a painting she was critiquing. I forced a smile, grateful for at least some vague approval, but feeling that she wasn't seeing me as a person so much as a product.

Finally, she drifted off toward the living room, expecting us to follow. She seated herself on a pristine velvet couch, her back perfectly straight, not a single flaw in her elegant composure. Without looking at either of us, she said, "Alex, you know your father isn't going to approve of this. I'm not sure why you felt the need to bring... this to his attention."

Alex didn't waver. "Mom, Evelyn is my girlfriend. I want you both to meet her properly."

His mother waved a hand, calling for tea, as if she hadn't heard him. When the maid returned with a tray, his mother finally looked at me. "Well then," she said, taking a sip of tea, "I'm Margaret Beaumont. And you are?"

"Evelyn Pierce," I replied, steadying my voice.

"And from which family are you?" she asked with a polite smile, though her eyes were full of expectation.

I met her gaze, feeling a surge of pride. "My own, actually. We may not have much money, but we're proud of what we've worked for." I could see her face tighten, her lips thinning as she processed the answer.

After a beat, she laughed, almost kindly, as though I'd made a charming joke. "Well, perhaps you have some grit in you. You'll need it." She set her cup down, the smile dropping from her face. "Though I must say, this life-this society-will chew you up if you think a brave face is enough. It's best not to start something you aren't prepared to finish, don't you think?"

The comment hung between us, cold and dismissive, and I could feel the doubt she wanted to plant settling heavily in the air. I glanced at Alex, who looked ready to protest, but I placed a hand on his arm, calming him. I met his mother's gaze again and, without flinching, replied, "I don't back down easily, Mrs. Beaumont. Alex means a lot to me, and I don't intend to give up on him or myself."

She looked at me, her expression unreadable, before giving a small, amused smile. "We shall see."

And just then, I heard footsteps echoing down the hall, and I knew his father was approaching. I took a deep breath, preparing myself for the next test, all too aware of the stakes.

As the tension in the room thickened, the front door swung open, and David Beaumont walked in. Every maid and staff member bowed low, their faces a mask of submission, as if they were in the presence of royalty. I couldn't shake the discomfort that washed over me. It felt surreal-was this truly how things worked here? They were all so eager to please, to acknowledge him as if he were some kind of king.

His presence alone was imposing; tall, with sharp features that seemed carved from stone, and an air that commanded attention. The moment he spotted Alex and me, his expression shifted, a flicker of disgust crossing his face before he turned to Alex with a pointed look. "We need to talk," he said tersely, nodding toward the hallway as if we were all too insignificant to hear what he had to say.

Alex's jaw clenched, and he straightened, a fire igniting in his eyes. "No, we're talking here. In front of Mom. In front of Evelyn," he said defiantly, gripping my hand tighter. I could feel the tension crackle in the air around us.

David's irritation was palpable, his lips pressing into a thin line. "This isn't up for debate, Alex. We're going to my office."

"No," Alex insisted, shaking his head. "I told Mom I'm serious about this. I want Evelyn to belong here." His determination echoed through the grand hall, and for a brief moment, I felt a surge of hope. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

But then I caught the flash of annoyance on David's face, followed by a bemused smirk as if Alex's words were nothing more than childish bravado. "Let's get one thing straight," David said, stepping closer, towering over Alex, the tension thick enough to slice. "What's so special about this girl? I don't see anything that could possibly benefit our family."

"Evelyn is more than you think," Alex shot back, standing his ground as he shielded me with his body, the fierce protectiveness in his gaze a stark contrast to his father's cold dismissal. "I want to be with her. If I have to do everything you expect of me, at least I deserve the right to be with someone I love."

Before David could respond, the door burst open again, and Charlotte strode in, her usual air of confidence unwavering. "What's going on here?" she demanded, her eyes flitting from David to Alex to me, confusion settling into her features.

"It appears your brother has taken a liking to this... poverty girl," Margaret interjected coolly, an edge of amusement in her voice. "And your father is trying to teach him a lesson."

Charlotte's gaze turned to me, then back to her father. I could see the flicker of recognition in her eyes, a hint of sympathy before she steeled herself against it. "So what's the lesson exactly?"

David smirked, as if relishing the opportunity to make a show of power. "Perfect. Everyone is here. Let's make this a lesson for both of you." He locked eyes with Alex, his tone icy. "I do not accept her in my family. Someone from her background should never be considered for a relationship with my son. He can tell the world this was a phase, a fun week, but nothing more."

A lump formed in my throat as he continued, his words slicing through the air. "If that's Alex's decision, he'll learn the hard way. If he insists on pursuing this-" he pointed at me, "he better be ready for the consequences."

I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, anger mixing with humiliation. Did he really think I was so insignificant? But the next words shocked me. "And Charlotte," he added, looking at his daughter with a sharp glare, "may this be a lesson for you too."

Confusion washed over me; Charlotte had been dating James for ages. What lesson did he think she needed to learn? It felt like a cheap shot, and I could see the uncertainty flickering in her eyes as she opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out.

David turned on his heel, leaving us four standing in the wake of his domineering presence. The tension hung in the air, suffocating and oppressive, until Margaret broke the silence with a laugh that seemed both forced and hysterical. "Well done, son! For now, at least. Let's see how long you two last," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

I looked at Alex, his face a mixture of determination and frustration. He had stood up for me, but it hadn't changed the reality of the situation. I felt the weight of their judgment, the dysfunction that ran deep within this family, and it settled heavily in my stomach. I'd thought I could handle this, but now, surrounded by the coldness of their attitudes, I began to wonder if I was strong enough to face it.

Charlotte finally broke the silence. "Wow. That was intense," she said, shaking her head. "I didn't think Dad would be so... direct."

"Direct?" Alex scoffed, his voice low but firm. "That was him trying to intimidate us into submission."

I bit my lip, looking back and forth between them. "What do we do now?"

"We stand our ground," Alex said, glancing at me, the resolve in his eyes rekindling some of my hope. "I'm not backing down. Not now, not ever."

Charlotte raised an eyebrow, skepticism mingling with concern. "You realize how stubborn he can be, right?"

"Trust me, I know," Alex replied, shooting her a look. "But if he thinks I'm just going to let him dictate my life, he's got another thing coming."

Margaret cleared her throat, breaking the moment of tension. "I suggest we all take a breath and discuss this rationally. Evelyn, dear," she said, her tone almost sweet but lacking warmth, "maybe it's best if you go home. You don't want to get caught in the crossfire between my husband and our son."

"No," Alex said fiercely. "Evelyn is part of this. She deserves to be here, to know what she's signing up for."

I could feel the warmth of his words wash over me, but uncertainty crept back in. Would I be strong enough to endure this? To face David's disdain and Margaret's coldness?

"Maybe we should all just take a break," Charlotte suggested, her voice softer now. "It's a lot to process. I mean, I didn't even know we were doing this today."

"Neither did I," I admitted, a sigh escaping my lips. "But maybe... maybe facing this head-on is the only way to go."

Alex smiled at me, a hint of pride shining through his frustration. "Exactly. We'll figure it out together."

As we stood there, the weight of their expectations heavy upon us, I felt an unexpected strength. I was scared, but I wasn't going to back down. I was here for Alex, and if I had to face the Beaumonts, I would do it with him by my side.