Chapter 201

The following morning at the Sinclair Holdings headquarters.

Olivia Bennett hurried in, rapping sharply on the office door.

"Mr. Alexander! About that matter you asked me to investigate—oh my God!"

Her words dissolved into an involuntary shriek.

She tried to swallow it back, but it was too late.

Her horrified gaze locked onto Alexander Kingsley seated at his desk, casually extracting a slice of rose apple tart from a filthy, grease-stained box.

Alexander took an enormous bite, his eyes fluttering shut with unmistakable pleasure.

"Mr. Alexander! That was retrieved from the trash—please don't eat it!" Olivia gasped, clutching her chest.

"The box is dirty. The contents are perfectly fine." He took another deliberate bite.

The flavor was exquisite, but the knowledge that these pastries weren't made for him soured the experience.

Once, Isabella had baked these for him daily. He'd taken it for granted. Now he was reduced to scavenging them from garbage bins.

How the mighty had fallen.

"Your findings?" Alexander neatly wrapped the remaining pastry and set it aside.

"After considerable persuasion, that blogger finally disclosed a critical lead!"

"Get to the point."

"He claims he received the wedding photos of Victoria Sterling through an anonymous tip. He's merely a pawn—has no idea who's pulling the strings."

"Have you enrolled in incompetence training recently?" Alexander's lip curled.

"Pardon?" Olivia blinked.

"Because you're excelling at delivering useless information."

Alexander massaged his temples. "This is what you call a breakthrough? No identity for the mastermind? Perhaps you should redirect your bonus to charity."

"Mr. Alexander, wait! I obtained the account details of the informant! I rushed back before investigating further—I'll trace it immediately!" The mention of lost bonuses turned Olivia ashen. She might be single, but her future designer handbag fund was non-negotiable.

"Hand it over. I'll handle this myself." Alexander beckoned impatiently.

"But sir, you shouldn't—"

"If I wait for you, I'll lose the advantage."

His fingers flexed, knuckles cracking. At military academy, he'd trained in cyber tracking, counterintelligence, and decryption—skills now dulled by years of corporate leadership.

When Isabella was still Isabella Sinclair, he'd attempted to hack into her circle, searching for dirt on her mysterious associates.

He'd found nothing. That's when he realized—the people surrounding Isabella were anything but ordinary.

This time, however, he doubted his opponent's caliber. If he couldn't crack this, he might as well retire.

Seeing Alexander's predatory focus, Olivia beamed. "Sir, truthfully—have you fallen for Mrs. Kingsley?"

Alexander's glacial stare could've frozen lava. "Shall I deduct three months' salary to fund your early retirement?"

Olivia's mouth snapped shut.

"For three years... I owed her."

Alexander exhaled sharply, gaze dropping. "I'll repay that debt however I can."

That evening at Isabella's private villa.

Sebastian and Nathaniel, upon hearing of their sister's predicament, abandoned their obligations and raced over.

In the study, Nathaniel hunched over the computer, brow glistening as he tracked the digital footprint of the provided account.

Meanwhile, Isabella lounged on the sofa, savoring the vintage Bordeaux Nathaniel had brought, with Sebastian for company.

Nathaniel scowled at his empty glass. "I drop everything to play tech support, while you two sip thousand-dollar wine? I'm a federal prosecutor, damn it!"

When they ignored him, he groaned, "At least save me a glass!"

"Focus on your task, little brother." Isabella swirled her wine, smirking. "Do well, and I'll gift you my entire cellar."

"I'm a public servant! This constitutes bribery!" Grumbling, Nathaniel resumed typing furiously.

"Isabella, Father's aware of the situation," Sebastian mentioned casually.

Her smile vanished. "Is he waiting for me to crawl home in disgrace?"

"Actually, yes." Sebastian chuckled, tweaking her cheek. "His exact words: 'If petty gossip unsettles her, does anything in this world matter to her?'"

Isabella said nothing.

"Oh, and Father mentioned Victoria's starring in 'The Dark Dynasty Part VIII' next year. The producers approached him for funding through back channels."

Sebastian leaned closer, eyes glinting. "He confided that if you're still displeased, he'll have them recast the lead."

Isabella choked on her wine. Since when did their father have Hollywood connections?

"That's... unnecessary. We breached contract first—Victoria did nothing wrong. No need to ruin her career."

She sighed, frustration simmering. "I'm building my own empire now. Can't rely on family forever. Only way forward? Expose whoever framed me, then humiliate them publicly."

"That's my girl. Eye for an eye."

Sebastian's proud smile warmed as he ruffled her hair. Let her raise hell. If the world burned, the Sinclair brothers would fan the flames.

A phone vibrated on the coffee table.

Isabella glanced sideways—and froze.

"Alexander Kingsley" flashed on the screen.

"Your ex-husband calls," Sebastian sing-songed.

"Ugh. Nightmare fuel." She shoved the phone away.

Suddenly, Daniel Carter burst in, face grim.

"Ms. Sinclair! Alexander's here—at the gates!"

As if on cue, the doorbell chimed.