Chapter 445

The bitter cold seeped through every crack of the Hawthorne residence. Without heating, the rooms felt more like ice chambers than living spaces.

"Even the guest rooms lack proper heating? Does your family enjoy subjecting visitors to such torture?"

Dominic couldn't help but chuckle.

With so many guests arriving for the celebration, surely not all would leave the same night. Would they really have to endure this freezing discomfort?

Evelyn shook her head. "The front wing is reserved for visitors—those rooms have heating. This section is strictly for the Hawthorne family."

The implication was clear: outsiders received comfort while family members endured austerity. Dominic frowned, then smirked. "So, does that mean I’m considered family now?"

Why else would they stick me in an unheated room?

Evelyn tilted her head, considering. "Logically, yes."

Dominic exhaled, torn between amusement and resignation. "What an honor."

Their playful banter couldn’t stave off the chill for long.

It wasn’t the right moment to strip down and huddle under blankets, so they rose instead. "Let’s explore the grounds," Evelyn suggested. "I’ve been here twice but never had the chance to look around properly."

The first time Dominic visited, it had been a brief, obligatory engagement—no time for sightseeing. But today was different. His purpose had shifted, and so had his mood.

Evelyn hesitated but didn’t refuse. Bundled in coats, they stepped into the snow-dusted courtyard.

The front hall buzzed with celebration, packed with well-wishers and disciples of the influential Hawthorne family. But here, in the private wing, silence reigned.

Snowflakes drifted lazily, blanketing the ground in pristine white. Elmsworth’s winters were mild, but tonight, the snowfall was steady. Their boots crunched softly against the fresh powder, leaving twin trails behind.

Hand in hand, they walked until Evelyn paused, glancing back at their footprints—his large, hers small. A mischievous glint lit her eyes.

"Wait here," she said, pulling away.

Carefully, she stepped in deliberate patterns, pressing one foot after another into the snow. When she finished, a near-perfect heart shape marked the ground.

She clasped her hands, admiring her work. "Not bad, right?"

Dominic smirked, then traced his own path around the edges of her heart, expanding it with a larger outline. "Mine’s not half bad either."

Evelyn scrunched her nose. "Yours is lopsided. Mine’s better."

"Doesn’t matter how it looks," he countered, gazing at the intertwined hearts. "What matters is that you’re inside mine."

The sweetness of his words warmed her more than any fire could. She beamed.

This courtyard had once been her training ground—where she’d spent countless hours mastering kickboxing and other disciplines. As a child, she’d seen it as nothing more than a place of drills and discipline.

Now, under the falling snow, it felt different.