Chapter 377

His crimson gaze burned into her like molten lava.

Isabella Sinclair froze, her breath hitching in her throat. "Mr. Kingsley, I swear I didn’t mean any harm! I was just worried about you!"

Alexander Kingsley braced himself against the sofa, his muscles trembling as he forced himself to stand.

The moment he rose, the world tilted. A scorching heat surged through his veins, relentless and consuming.

His breathing was ragged, sweat glistening on his chiseled jaw. Even weakened, his raw magnetism left Isabella breathless.

Alexander staggered toward the exit, his body swaying as he leaned against the wall for support.

But Isabella wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip away. She followed him without hesitation.

Tonight was her chance.

If she could claim Alexander, no one—not Evelyn, not Edith—could stand in her way.

In the deserted hallway, she made her move, proving her father right—she had no shame.

"Mr. Kingsley, you can barely walk. Let me help you to your room," she purred, reaching for him.

"Get away from me!" Alexander snarled, shoving her back with what little strength he had left. His eyes blazed with fury, his disgust unmistakable.

As if she were something vile.

Frustration twisted her features. She lunged again, desperate.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

A cold voice sliced through the tension, startling Isabella into releasing her grip.

Daniel Carter stormed forward, his expression thunderous as he wrapped an arm around Alexander, putting distance between them.

"Ms. Ashbourne," he hissed, "care to explain yourself?"

Isabella straightened, but the Fairhaven heir’s aura was suffocating. A cold sweat broke across her skin. "Mr. Kingsley had too much to drink. I was just helping him."

"Drunk?" Daniel scoffed. "I know his tolerance better than anyone. He was fine before you showed up."

Her cheeks burned. "Are you implying I did something to him? My father is a respected man in K Group! I would never stoop so low!"

Daniel didn’t flinch. "Funny. Women with better pedigrees than yours have tried worse."

He turned his attention to Alexander, his voice softening. "You okay, man?"

"Get me out of here," Alexander rasped.

Daniel hauled him toward the exit, muttering under his breath, "See? You can live without a woman, but not without me."

"Wait!" Isabella called after them.

Daniel shot her a withering glare. "Give it up, Ms. Ashbourne. He’s not yours to have."

"Why not?"

"Because his heart belongs to someone else. And you? You’re not even in the same league."

"Evelyn?" she spat, her competitive fire igniting. "They’re divorced! If he loved her, why end it?"

Daniel laughed, cold and mocking. "You wouldn’t understand. Their marriage ended, but not his love. Even if Evelyn remarries, no one will ever replace her in his heart."

As they disappeared, Isabella’s legs gave out.

She screamed into the empty hallway, her voice raw with fury.

"I don’t believe you!"

Daniel shoved Alexander into the car, his jaw clenched.

It was obvious—Alexander hadn’t been drinking. He’d been drugged.

But how?

The waiter had brought a tray of champagne. Isabella had picked two glasses at random. Had she spiked them all?

"Damn," Daniel muttered, starting the engine. "I’m taking you to the villa. You can’t go home like this."

Alexander groaned, his fingers clawing at his collar. Two buttons popped off, revealing his flushed skin.

Daniel whistled. "No wonder they can’t resist you."

As he leaned over to fasten Alexander’s seatbelt, a name slipped from his lips—weak, desperate.

"Evelyn."

Daniel smirked. "Still denying your feelings, huh?"

He clicked the belt into place. "Don’t worry, buddy. I’ve got you."

Evelyn had just wrapped up her meeting when her phone rang.

Daniel’s name flashed on the screen. She almost ignored it, but the incessant ringing wore her down.

"What?" she snapped.

"Evelyn! Alexander’s in trouble!"

Her stomach dropped. "What happened?"

"I don’t know, but it’s bad. I took him to his villa. You’re a doctor—get over here!"

Her mind raced with terrifying possibilities. His lingering condition had always been her biggest fear.

"Send me the address."

She hung up, her knuckles white on the steering wheel.

Her companion, Preston, barely had time to protest before she locked the doors.

"I have to go. Call my brother."

The engine roared to life, leaving Preston gaping in the dust.

The villa loomed before her, stirring memories she’d tried to bury.

This was Alexander’s sanctuary—where he retreated when Windermere Estate suffocated him.

Alva had once told her, hoping to ease her loneliness.

But Evelyn had refused to come.

She knew why he stayed away.

Now, standing at the door, she hesitated.

The past pressed down on her—humiliation, heartbreak, the child she’d lost.

Acacia’s voice echoed in her mind. "He gave me this villa. Did he ever tell you?"

That night, she’d nearly bled to death.

But she’d survived.

She’d moved on.

Taking a deep breath, she rang the bell.

No answer.

Frowning, she pushed the door open.

It was unlocked.

Unease prickled her skin as she stepped inside.

The villa was cozy, nothing like the cold grandeur of Windermere.

"Daniel?" she called.

Silence.

She checked every room, her pulse quickening.

Finally, she reached the master bedroom.

The air was thick with heat, the scent of sandalwood and sweat intoxicating.

Through the half-open door, she heard labored breathing.

"Alexander?"

No response.

She pushed inside.

The room was dim, the bed a mess. Alexander lay sprawled, his shirt open, his skin flushed.

"Evelyn," he groaned, his voice rough. "I feel... awful."

She rushed to his side.

Suddenly, his hand shot out, gripping her wrist.

Her world spun.

In an instant, she was beneath him, his body burning against hers. His eyes—dark, desperate—locked onto her.

"Alexander, let go!"

"Someone drugged me," he panted. "I’m burning up."

Her fingers brushed his forehead. "You’re feverish!"

He caught her hand, pressing it back to his skin. "Touch me again."

His voice was raw, aching. "Evelyn... I’ve waited so long for this."