His Ex-Wife Is A Billionaire (Evadne and Thaddeus) novel Chapter 976

Evadne's phone was a distant memory, and with neither a TV nor a computer in her room, she had no clue how many days had passed since her arrival on this secluded island.

She woke up from a heavy dose of sedatives, conscious but almost completely paralyzed below the neck, like a beautiful but desperate living corpse.

The opulent yet chillingly sterile room was so silent that not even the sound of the wind or the waves could be heard, indicating a considerable distance between the house and the sea.

It was Avery who had meticulously crafted this gilded cage for her.

Evadne lay on the pale gold bedding, her clothes from before long gone, replaced by a thin, red lace nightgown that made her look like a delicate yet tragic rose, devoid of any sign of life, as if she was slowly withering away.

The nightgown was the doing of the island's maid.

Although Avery was fierce and brutal to everyone else, he had never forced himself on her, not wanting to see her cry out of a love that pierced deep into his bones.

Evadne lay motionless, staring out the window as the orange hues of the sunset faded, taking the color from her slender face and leaving a heartbreaking pallor.

She closed her swollen, red eyes, holding back tears with clenched teeth.

After what felt like an eternity, the sound of the door opening and familiar heavy footsteps approached.

"Evadne, it's time to eat."

Avery himself brought the tray to her bedside, his voice unusually gentle, "I made it myself, all your favorites."

Evadne turned her pale face away, every nerve in her body repulsed and resistant towards him.

Avery looked down at her, his gaze tracing the contours of her body outlined by the silky satin, her black hair spread across the pillow framing her fragile face, igniting an even stronger desire to possess her completely.

"You haven't eaten or drunk anything since you got here. You won't last long like this."

"Your food is trash to me."

Evadne's hatred was palpable, refusing to even glance at him, "I won't move. Just go, I don't want to see you."

As soon as she finished speaking, she felt a sudden movement—

Her frail waist was scooped up, and she was once again enveloped in his arms, held tightly against him.

"How about some soup, please?" Avery asked, smiling gently, his forehead pressed against hers, their noses barely touching.

If one could ignore the burning hatred in her eyes, they might appear to be a pair of close lovers, "It's fish soup. I caught the fish myself this morning, fresh from the sea.

Remember when we were kids, and you took me to Silverlake Harbor to catch fish? You, in your little red rain boots, wading into the water trying to catch fish – that adorable sight has been engraved in my heart... and I'll never forget it for as long as I live."