I Rejected Being The Investor's Mistress

Jensen Romero, a lifelong professor at Oxford Medical University and a leading authority in neurology, sat across from Evelyn Howard. After her sister fell ill, Evelyn had combed through every expert in neurology. She had pored over Professor Romero's published papers so many times she could summarize each abstract by heart. Sadly, Professor Romero had retired some time ago. Evelyn had asked around but learned he had been off the radar for years. She had no other choice but to contact his protégé, Dr. Robert Haynes.

Now, with the distinguished professor smiling warmly across the table from her, Evelyn felt as if she were dreaming.

"I never imagined a young lady like you would know my name," Professor Romero remarked with a friendly chuckle. "Seems like I'm a touch more famous than old Mr. Scott. I'll be sure to boast about it next chance I get."

He acknowledged her.

Evelyn's breath quickened; there was hope for her sister. His words pierced through the bleakness she'd lived in for two years. She stood abruptly, her chair scraping loudly on the floor.

"Professor Romero, I—"

She paused before continuing, anxiety in her voice.

"My sister suffered a stroke at fifteen and has been in a coma ever since. The doctors here can't determine the cause, and they're afraid surgery is too risky, so they keep delaying..."

Her words spilled out in a rush, fearing she’d miss an opportunity if she paused even briefly.

"I know you're retired, and asking for your help is a big favor, but I'm prepared to pay anything! Please, help my sister!"

With this plea, she stood earnestly, aware of the boldness of her request. Tonight was supposed to be a dinner welcoming her as Everett Scott's new wife, a chance to impress the elders. But she couldn't wait any longer. Her sister had been in the ICU for two years, losing more of herself each day. Dr. Haynes kept insisting on more observation. Professor Romero was her only hope in this lifetime. Even if it spoiled the dinner, even if Professor Romero deemed her reckless, even if Everett ended up dismayed—she had to make the request.

A silence blanketed the room for a few seconds.

Evelyn focused on the floor, her heart pounding like a drum.

"My dear," Professor Romero said gently, placing a reassuring hand on her arm. "Please, sit down. There's no need for such urgency."

Evelyn sat up straight, her eyes already shimmering with tears.

Professor Romero wasn't annoyed; instead, he looked at her with empathy. He softly patted her hand and said, "Since you're married to Everett, we're family now. I've retired, yes, but I can still come up with a plan. Let's enjoy dinner first, and then we'll talk it over."

Evelyn nodded intensely, unable to speak as her throat tightened with emotion.

Throughout the meal, she barely tasted her food. She mechanically moved her fork around, the flavors absent from her senses. Her gaze frequently drifted to Professor Romero, wanting to speak but fearing her eagerness might spoil everything, her anxiety causing her fingers to tremble.

Finally, as dinner ended, she immediately pulled out her phone to show her sister’s medical records.

"Professor Romero, my sister's name is Gianna, she's seventeen now, and she's been in a coma for two years. Here are all her medical reports..."

Professor Romero took the phone, scrolling through the files one by one. Evelyn watched him closely, observing his expressions—sometimes focused, occasionally furrowing his brow, then relaxing. Her heart pounded as if it might leap from her chest. Time seemed to stretch, each second a painful wait.

At last, Professor Romero raised his head. "The situation isn't too grim," he stated.

"But I'll need to examine her personally for an accurate diagnosis."

Not too grim—those words were like a lifeline pulling Evelyn back from despair. Tears unexpectedly welled up in her eyes.

"Thank you..." she managed to say, overwhelmed with emotion.

Professor Romero didn’t respond, instead sharing a significant look with Everett Scott.

Grinning, he handed the phone back to Evelyn, his eyes playfully teasing. "No need to thank me. I'm here at someone’s invitation. I'll be staying in Oxford for a while. If you trust me, I can arrange a surgical team for your sister’s treatment."

At someone’s invitation. Staying in Oxford. Evelyn’s tears still clung to her face, yet she froze momentarily.

She turned to the man beside her. Everett was sipping coffee, his long fingers wrapped around a porcelain cup, his expression indifferent as if this dinner was perfectly routine.

But Evelyn wasn't naive. Professor Romero had been retired for years, difficult to meet even with persistent efforts. Why would he suddenly appear in Oxford, suddenly here on someone’s invitation? Clearly, Everett had brought him here for her benefit.

Realizing this, Evelyn felt a wave of emotion overcome her.

As the dinner ended, Everett's assistant escorted Professor Romero back to his hotel.

Standing at the restaurant entrance, the early spring breeze lifted Evelyn's hair, but she felt far from cold. She watched Everett’s figure retreat, her thoughts spinning.

"Mind the chill," Everett said, turning back to shield her from the breeze. "Let’s get in the car."

His voice remained gentle, as if nothing had changed. Yet Evelyn stood her ground, suddenly grasping his hand.

Everett glanced down at her slender, cool fingers.

"It was you, wasn’t it?" Evelyn asked, her eyes slightly red but determined to meet his gaze. "You invited Professor Romero from the city."

The night air swirled between them, lifting her hair against his hand.

Everett remained silent.

His silence was its own confession.

"Why?" Evelyn’s voice was gentle, filled with gratitude and wonder.

She paused for a moment, then kept walking, resolute against the insults from petty people like Owen Morgan and his relatives. "You’re far better than them," she said to Everett softly. With that thought, she held Everett’s hand tighter and walked away without a backward glance.

Even from a distance, she could feel Owen Morgan's stare piercing her back like a nail. She took a deep breath, looked up at Everett, and whispered, "Don't let their words get to you."

Everett glanced down at her, his expression attentive and contemplative. "It’s already too late for that. But tell me, were you truthful when you said Owen doesn’t hold a candle to me?"

Evelyn paused, unsure how to reply.

"Love?" Everett gently tilted his head, a hint of disappointment crossing his face. He was becoming more accustomed to calling her that, though his attempt at feigned hurt was still somewhat awkward.

Evelyn didn’t mind the awkwardness. She smiled softly and nodded sincerely, "Of course, it's true. Owen couldn’t ever compare to you."

Everett's face brightened considerably.

While Evelyn's spirits dipped momentarily, it wasn’t because of Owen’s insults. Those people meant little to her. What troubled her was drawing Everett into a situation where he was demeaned, mistaken for a kept man.

"I'm sorry," Evelyn whispered, "for dragging you into this, for allowing them to insult you."

Everett paused and spoke softly, "Hold on a moment."

Evelyn watched, puzzled, as Everett pushed back through the crowd, unsure of what he was doing.

Where was he going?

Confused, she stood by the shopping cart, observing the sea of unfamiliar faces passing by.

Then, amidst her uncertainty, a sweet-scented ice cream cone appeared before her, fringed with colorful sprinkles.

"Want some?" Everett's gentle voice reached her ears.

Evelyn looked up, the sunlight streaming in behind him, creating an aura that hid his expression. Yet his eyes shone more warmly than the sun itself.