Chapter 374

The world around them seemed to vanish the moment Alexander Kingsley and Isabella Sinclair's gazes met.

Dolores Ashbourne's heart raced when she spotted the man she'd been obsessing over.

She fumbled for her compact, hastily powdering her nose and smoothing her hair. With trembling hands, she took tentative steps toward Alexander—only to be blocked by a swarm of socialites who had already encircled him.

Frustration burned through her as she clenched the fabric of her dress.

Why was it so impossible to get near him?

And how had Isabella—of all people—managed to marry someone like him? The unfairness of it all made her blood boil.

Determined, Dolores shoved her way forward, ignoring the glares.

Just as she reached Alexander, she feigned a stumble and flung herself into his arms.

His expression darkened as he tried to step back, but the crowd trapped him in place. The cloying scent of her perfume made his head spin.

"Oh, Mr. Kingsley! I'm so sorry—I lost my balance!" Dolores pressed her hands against his chest, batting her lashes.

But when she looked up, his icy stare sent a chill down her spine.

From the staircase, Elspeth and Glynnis watched the scene unfold.

Glynnis, her face still healing beneath layers of makeup, squinted. "Who is that woman?"

Elspeth yawned, still exhausted from her late-night tryst with a certain young doctor. "Some Ashbourne girl, apparently. Desperate, if you ask me."

Glynnis smirked. "Rumor has it she and Isabella don’t get along."

Elspeth’s lips curled. "Now that makes things interesting."

Meanwhile, Isabella observed the spectacle, her expression unreadable.

Chasel sipped his champagne lazily. "I see why you divorced him. Too much trouble."

Isabella shot him a glare. "Shut up."

Alexander finally shoved Dolores away with such force she stumbled back, landing ungracefully on the floor.

Gasps filled the room.

Bevis Ashbourne, who had just entered, paled at the sight of his humiliated daughter.

Then, the sharp click of heels echoed through the hall.

"Mr. Kingsley."

The crowd parted instantly.

Alexander’s breath caught as Isabella approached, cool and composed.

Whispers erupted.

"It's Isabella Sinclair!"

"She’s even more stunning in person!"

Alexander didn’t hesitate. He stepped over Dolores as if she were nothing and followed Isabella out.

The garden was quiet, the night air crisp.

"You didn’t come with Mr. Chambers," Alexander said coldly.

"And you didn’t come alone," Isabella countered. "Though I didn’t expect you’d take an interest in my cousin."

His jaw tightened. "We’re divorced. Who I associate with is none of your concern."

She smiled thinly. "If you like Dolores, I could introduce you properly. Maybe we’ll be family again."

Alexander’s fists clenched.

No one could provoke him like she did.

No one.

He closed the distance between them, caging her against a tree. His voice was low, dangerous. "If you chose to leave me, why do you keep appearing in front of me?"

Isabella met his gaze, unflinching.

His lips brushed her ear as he whispered, "I loved you. But that doesn’t mean you get to trample my pride."

The words cut deep.

Neither moved.

The silence between them was louder than any argument.