Chapter 280

The moment those words left his lips, Mr. and Mrs. Kingsley erupted in fury, their faces contorted with rage.

Isabella Sinclair glared at Alexander with venomous hatred, hiding behind Harrison like a vengeful shadow, her eyes sharp as daggers. "Alexander! Have you forgotten who you are?" Harrison's voice trembled with barely contained wrath.

"Spare me the lecture," Alexander replied coolly, his lips curling into a mocking smirk. "If not for your constant reminders, I might have actually forgotten."

"You ungrateful wretch!" Harrison roared, his vision blurring with anger. He jabbed a finger at Alexander's face. "I'm asking you one last time—are you really going to accept the Vanderbilt family's invitation this weekend?"

"Alexander, darling, why must you be so reckless?" Isabella interjected, adopting the tone of a concerned mother. "My birthday is insignificant. But you know full well the feud between your father and Nathaniel. And that Evangeline has been nothing but trouble for us. How can you, at such a critical moment, embolden our enemies while undermining your own family? As CEO, your absence would be a slap in your father's face!"

"Mrs. Sinclair." Alexander's voice was glacial. "If your birthday is truly unimportant, then perhaps it shouldn't be celebrated at all. You, your daughter, and your relatives have all abused your positions, dragging the company through scandal after scandal. Your reputation in Elmsworth is in ruins. If you insist on flaunting this shameless spectacle, do you take the public for fools? Or do you think the internet has no memory?"

Isabella's fists clenched, her entire body trembling as if struck by palsy.

Harrison's blind devotion to her wavered for the first time.

Then, mercilessly, Alexander delivered the final blow. "If Mr. Harrison wishes to play the doting husband, he shouldn’t expect the rest of this household to indulge your vanity or stomach your hypocrisy."

Isabella gasped, her vision swimming with rage.

"How dare you speak to your father like that!" Harrison bellowed, his composure shattered.

"Where is the butler?" he snapped, his voice echoing through the grand hall.

The butler scurried in, trembling.

Alexander remained unmoved, his expression one of cold disdain.

Harrison's fury burned hotter. "Bring the family whip. Now."

The butler paled. It had been nearly two decades since Alexander had last been punished.

The last time had been after his mother's death, when a young Alexander, consumed by grief and fury, had nearly attacked his own father. Harrison had beaten him unconscious with that very whip.

Now, history was repeating itself.

"Go!" Harrison barked.

The butler fled.

Isabella and her daughter, Victoria, exchanged smug glances.

Meanwhile, in her room, Seraphina—often dismissed as the "dimwit" of the family—heard the commotion.

"Seraphina!" Victoria burst in, grinning maliciously. "Come downstairs! Alexander's about to get what he deserves!"

Seraphina's heart clenched. "Why? What did he do?"

"Why? Because he's arrogant! He thinks he's untouchable just because he's CEO." Victoria sneered. "If it weren’t for Nathaniel's poor health, he'd be rotting in some branch office. He should be grateful Father even lets him stay in this house!"

Seraphina, though quiet, was far from stupid. She saw through Victoria's venom. "Alexander isn’t like that," she whispered. "You and Mother are the ones bullying him."

Victoria's face twisted. "You little—"

Just then, a maid rushed in. "Miss Seraphina, Miss Victoria—Mr. Harrison demands your presence downstairs immediately!"

Victoria stormed out, leaving Seraphina trembling.

The maid, Margaret, noticed the bruises on Seraphina's arms. "Miss, you must tell your father about this!"

Seraphina shook her head. "Please, just give me a moment."

Once alone, she dialed Evangeline's number with shaking hands.

The call connected instantly. "Seraphina? What's wrong?"

"Evangeline," Seraphina choked out. "Alexander's in trouble."

Evangeline scoffed. "Who would dare?"

"Father is going to whip him!"

Silence. Then—

"A whipping?" Evangeline's voice turned deadly.

Downstairs, the entire household had gathered.

Alexander stood alone, an unyielding figure amidst the sea of onlookers.

Harrison cracked the whip against the marble floor. The sound echoed like thunder.

"Kneel."

Alexander smirked. "Never."

"Then stand there and take it like the fool you are!" Harrison snarled.

The whip lashed out—once, twice, thrice.

Blood seeped through Alexander's shirt.

Isabella and Victoria watched with glee.

Alexander didn’t flinch.

"Will you admit your wrongdoing?" Harrison demanded.

"No."

"You insolent—"

"STOP!"

A voice cut through the hall like a blade.

Everyone turned.

Evangeline stood at the entrance, her presence commanding the room.

Alexander, pale and sweating, managed a faint smile as his vision blurred.

"Evangeline," he murmured, swaying slightly.

Then his knees buckled.

She caught him just in time.