Chapter 338

The room fell into stunned silence.

Mr. Alexander Kingsley certainly didn’t mince words.

The business moguls, despite their practiced poker faces, couldn’t help but shoot disdainful glances at Nathaniel Prescott.

Honestly, if he wanted to discuss business, then discuss business. But to suddenly extend an invitation and insist on including his daughter—his intentions were as transparent as glass!

Nathaniel, however, clearly hadn’t expected Alexander to be so brutally direct. The moment his scheming thoughts surfaced, Alexander crushed them without hesitation.

Nathaniel, usually a master of masking his emotions, struggled to maintain his smile, his expression stiffening by the second.

"Mr. Kingsley, you're absolutely right. My apologies for the abruptness. I should have sent a formal invitation. I was just so thrilled to see Mr. Frederic tonight."

"If you're thrilled to see my father, then invite him. He’s the Chairman of the Kingsley Group. You can speak to him directly."

Alexander shot Nathaniel an icy glare before shifting his gaze, his tone dropping even colder. "I do wonder, does Chairman Reginald know you’re negotiating with the Kingsley Group behind his back?"

Nathaniel froze, then forced a laugh. "My brother entrusted me with this project. Of course, I’d prioritize partnering with a powerhouse like the Kingsley Group. If he knew we were collaborating, he’d be overjoyed and fully supportive."

Alexander smirked, his eyes sharp as blades. "And if Chairman Reginald knew you were privately approaching the ex-husband of Miss Isabella Sinclair, would he still be overjoyed?"

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

Frederic’s brows furrowed deeply as he reprimanded, "Alexander, must you bring this up here?"

Nathaniel’s mouth hung open, his mind racing.

Ex-husband?

Alexander Kingsley was Isabella’s ex-husband?

When had they married? When had they divorced? The Sinclair family kept their secrets well.

"Some things are better said outright to avoid unnecessary misunderstandings."

Alexander’s voice was frigid. "Aside from Chairman Reginald and Miss Sinclair, I won’t discuss business with anyone else from the Vanderbilt Group. And I certainly won’t meet any woman privately behind Isabella’s back—not even your daughter. I won’t risk upsetting her over something so trivial."

The crowd erupted in murmurs. This was practically a public love confession!

Frederic cleared his throat, shooting his son a warning look. "Alexander, there’s no need to be so blunt."

"I had no idea you and Isabella shared such a history. My apologies for the oversight."

Nathaniel forced another laugh. "Though you’re divorced, it’s admirable how deeply you still care for her. A man of honor indeed!"

"The marriage ended. The feelings didn’t."

Alexander’s thoughts drifted to Isabella—her radiant smile, those mesmerizing eyes. His expression softened. "I love Isabella. Even divorced, I’ll win her back someday."

Nathaniel paled, humiliation burning his cheeks.

The party continued, and Nathaniel slipped into the hallway to answer a call from his daughter, Victoria.

"Dad, have you arrived at the event?"

"I’ve been here. Where are you? Why aren’t you here yet?" Nathaniel’s mood was foul after Alexander’s humiliation.

"Oh, tonight’s too important. I had to look perfect before making my entrance."

Victoria’s voice brightened. "Has Mr. Kingsley arrived?"

"He’s here."

"Did you mention the new project? Make sure he knows the proposal was my idea!"

Victoria laughed arrogantly. "A man like Alexander Kingsley has seen countless beauties. But someone like me—educated, cultured, brilliant, with a prestigious family name—will stand out. Once he notices me, he’ll be drawn to my intellect. And then, he’ll fall for me."

Her tone suggested she’d already won him over, inching closer to the Kingsley fortune.

"Don’t celebrate just yet," Nathaniel muttered darkly.

"Dad, what do you mean?"

"Alexander’s been divorced before."

"What? Divorced? When?" Victoria gasped.

"You’re asking me? I have no idea. But that’s not the point. Do you know who his ex-wife is?"

Of course, Victoria wouldn’t know. She’d spent the year buried in studies and research in Paris, focused on her own reinvention.

"Your cousin. Isabella Sinclair!" Nathaniel spat the name through gritted teeth.

Silence. Only shallow breathing filled the line.

Then Victoria burst into mocking laughter. "Oh, Dad, you’re joking, right? Isabella’s father worships her. He’d throw a parade for her wedding. How could she marry in secret? To the CEO of Kingsley Group? That wedding would’ve been legendary!"

"I don’t know the details, but Alexander is divorced now."

"So what if he’s divorced? Even eight times over, he’d still be the crown prince. The divorce wasn’t his fault—it was Isabella’s. She couldn’t keep a man like him."

Victoria sneered. "Honestly, it’s better this way. Isabella’s a discarded woman now. She won’t be in my way. I’ll have even more to mock her about when I see her."

"Alexander just admitted in front of everyone that he still loves her. He wants her back! If you’re aiming for him, it won’t be easy."

"Men care about pride. When you and Mom divorced, you were keeping mistresses, yet you played the devoted husband in front of Uncle Reginald."

"A man like Alexander, with his status, has to maintain appearances. Divorce isn’t exactly flattering." Victoria sounded dismissive.

Nathaniel seethed. "Ungrateful girl! Haven’t I given you everything? The half-million you blew on surgeries and starlets in Paris last year—who covered that? Me! If you don’t appreciate me, fine. But keep your mouth shut unless you want your cards canceled."

"Oh, Dad, I was just teasing. My loyalty’s always with you."

Victoria laughed, brimming with arrogance. "You want repayment? Watch me. Once I get close to Alexander, your daughter will be the future Mrs. Kingsley."

Meanwhile, the event moved to its next highlight—the keynote speech by Elmsworth’s business titan.

Originally, Frederic was to deliver it, but with Alexander present, he passed the spotlight to his son. After all, Alexander’s recent injury required public appearances to quell damaging rumors.

"You showed up tonight without dressing up—fine. But you couldn’t even bother to style your hair?"

Frederic shot him a disapproving look. "What CEO sports a buzz cut? You’re not in the military anymore. And with those surgery scars? At least wear a wig."

"I’m not hiding my injury. Everyone in Elmsworth knows. Covering it would raise suspicions. Besides, what’s wrong with a buzz cut? I’d still look good bald." Alexander’s tone was cool, dripping with confidence.

Frederic pressed his lips together.

As much as he disapproved of his son’s defiance, he couldn’t deny Alexander inherited his parents’ striking looks. The man was effortlessly handsome.

"I’ll have a realistic wig made for you tomorrow," Frederic insisted.

It wasn’t about the wig. He simply couldn’t stand Alexander’s defiance. Control was all he craved.

"Do what you want. I won’t wear it. Isabella likes my hair like this. As long as she does, I’m keeping it." At the mention of Isabella, Alexander’s voice softened, warmth seeping in.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Mr. Alexander Kingsley!"

Applause erupted.

Alexander rose gracefully, ignoring Frederic’s glare, and strode to the stage.

Standing before the microphone, poised and commanding, he showed no trace of his recent surgery—only vitality and strength.

Just as he began to speak, his phone vibrated.

Normally, he’d ignore it. But tonight, his beloved was missing. He’d kept his phone close all evening, terrified of missing her call.

So when it buzzed, his heart lurched.

He discreetly checked the screen.

Instantly, his pupils contracted.

The photos flooding in sent his pulse skyrocketing, his heart hammering wildly against his ribs.

Without hesitation, he spun on his heel and sprinted offstage, leaving the bewildered crowd in his wake.

Murmurs spread. "What’s happening?"

Frederic shot to his feet. "What the hell is he doing?"

Lawrence, stationed by the back door, panicked and chased after Alexander.

Outside the banquet hall, Alexander moved swiftly, his face pale, his strides urgent.

Then, a vision in white Chanel appeared—long flowing hair, delicate features, poised like a blooming rose.

Victoria Prescott.

Seeing Alexander charging toward her, she fluttered her lashes, lifting a hand in greeting. "Mr. Kingsley."

"Move."

"Ah!"

He brushed past her like a hurricane, his shoulder knocking into hers. The impact sent her stumbling, pain shooting through her arm.