Chapter 21

"Mr. Kingsley, I can't—I can't go any further!" The Windsor Estates had towering floors and endless staircases. By the eighth floor, Preston was already gasping for air, his legs trembling like jelly. He looked ready to collapse.

"Two more floors. Keep moving." Alexander urged, climbing effortlessly.

At thirty-two, he was only two years older than Preston. But years in the special forces and relentless boxing training had honed his physique beyond most men's. Twenty more floors? Child's play. He'd done thirty-mile night marches in the military without breaking a sweat.

When they finally reached the fortieth floor, Preston slumped onto the steps, wheezing. Alexander shot him a cold, disappointed glance.

"Mr. Kingsley, what a pleasure." A smooth voice made Alexander turn. A handsome young man with bright eyes—the kind women gushed over—approached with a polite smile. His age was impossible to guess.

"Sebastian Lockwood, Ms. Sinclair's assistant. She's been expecting you. Follow me."

Was that a dig at their pace? Alexander's jaw tightened. "Unless your elevators move at the speed of light, Ms. Sinclair will have to endure our human limitations."

Sebastian didn't react, simply turning on his heel.

Rude.

"Tch. Attitude," Preston muttered, finally catching his breath. He tried to stand, but Alexander stopped him. "Wait here."

Alexander followed Sebastian to the CEO's office. His pulse quickened inexplicably. Battle-hardened, yet this meeting unsettled him.

A knock. A woman's voice.

"Enter." Sebastian opened the door with a stiff gesture.

Alexander straightened his tie and stepped inside. Meanwhile, in the adjacent room, Isabella watched the feed while nibbling chocolate.

A young woman sat behind the desk—elegant, long-haired, strikingly pretty. This was the infamous Isabella Sinclair? He'd expected someone more... regal.

"Mr. Kingsley, you must be exhausted. Please, sit."

Isabella's command through her headset made her "assistant" scramble to obey, his movements awkward.

Alexander settled onto the sofa, scanning the room.

The office was tastefully opulent—marble desk, vintage leather couch, a grand piano in the corner. But what caught his eye was the framed quote behind Isabella:

A wise man keeps his knowledge to himself, waiting for the right moment to act.

Impressive.

Isabella's chocolate paused mid-bite. In three years of marriage, he'd never complimented her. Not once. And now? When she'd stopped craving his approval?

"Do you like it?" she asked lightly.

"It's... well-chosen."

"Take it when you leave. A gift."

"No. Masterpieces belong where they're appreciated."

Isabella laughed—a sound her assistant nervously echoed.

Alexander frowned.

"Your praise flatters me, Mr. Kingsley. But I can mass-produce these. Really, take it." Her laughter held an edge now. His fingers curled slightly.

"Since you're not here to admire my decor, let's discuss business."

"I'm here about Vanderbilt Industries. Cease your attacks. We can negotiate terms." His voice dropped, gaze intense. "Cooperating with Kingsley Corp benefits you in New York, Ms. Sinclair."

"Attacks?" She chuckled. "I'm exposing unethical practices—warning peers against cutting corners. Buy cheap, pay dearly."

"Production flaws happen. Even century-old brands face recalls." He defended Vanderbilt stubbornly. "You could've demanded refunds. Instead, you smear their reputation. Using Ashbourne Group's might to crush mid-sized firms? Ruthless. Future partners might think twice."

Isabella crushed the chocolate in her hand. A threat? Did he think she'd cower?

"How noble—defending your fiancée's family. But business isn't personal. I won't spare Vanderbilt just because you're lovesick, Mr. Kingsley. Not even for New York's golden boy."

His expression darkened. She'd struck a nerve. Normally, he'd never dirty his hands with this mess. But for Evelyn...

"Seems we're at an impasse." He stood gracefully, every inch the unshakable soldier. "Pardon any future offenses in the boardroom, Ms. Sinclair."

As he turned to leave—

"Ms. Sinclair, I was wrong! If this gets out, I'm ruined!"

"It was Mr. Vanderbilt's idea! I just went along!"

Alexander froze. The recording exploded in his skull like a grenade.

Isabella crossed her legs, savoring his pallor.

"I support ethical businesses. But those harming collective interests?" She smiled. "I'll slay dragons without mercy. We'll meet again... in the boardroom."

Alexander left in a daze, nerves screaming, body numb.

"Sir! What happened? Did she agree?" Preston rushed over, alarmed by his ashen face.

"Later." Alexander strode forward, headache pounding, replaying her words.

That recording made him a fool. He'd thought Vanderbilt innocent—persecuted over his engagement leak. Instead, he'd championed vipers.

Yanking his tie loose didn't help. Then—high heels clicking behind him.

Evelyn?

He whirled around. The hallway was empty.