Chapter 61

"You little thief! Give that back to me right now!"

Isabella Sinclair's cheeks burned crimson as her petite frame pressed against Alexander Kingsley's muscular physique beneath his tailored suit. Her fingers dug into his broad shoulders for balance while she squirmed like a trapped wildcat. His powerful arm locked around her waist in an unbreakable grip.

Her pulse skyrocketed at the possessive intensity of his hold. Through the thin fabric of her dress, she could feel the searing heat of his palm against her skin.

Yet Alexander remained fixated on her phone screen, his expression unreadable as he scrolled through the contents.

The entire room held its breath. Who dared speak to Mr. Kingsley like this? And why wasn't he furious?

Nathaniel Prescott wiped his brow, desperate to intervene but paralyzed by uncertainty.

Vanessa Sterling gaped in shock. They'd never been this physically close during their marriage. Why were they practically glued together after divorce?

Two socialites nearby nearly chewed through their freshly manicured nails, green with envy at Isabella's intimate contact with the most powerful bachelor in New York.

Alexander's brow furrowed as he swiftly deleted every compromising photo of Vanessa. "Isabella," he said icily, slipping the phone back into her pocket before releasing her, "how desperate have you become to resort to such cheap tricks?"

She stumbled back, brushing imaginary dirt from her dress with visible disgust. "Oh please, if we're talking about cheap tactics, you're the grandmaster." Her eyes flashed with contempt. "At least I fight fair. You just resort to brute force when you can't win. How utterly primitive - are you auditioning for King Kong?"

The crowd erupted in nervous laughter. Alexander's jaw clenched so tight it could crack diamonds. She'd just compared him to a gorilla in front of Manhattan's elite. But what burned worse than the insult was the sheer revulsion in her gaze.

Just how much did she despise him?

Since their divorce, she'd been the one constantly provoking him. He'd shown remarkable restraint, yet she kept pushing. Enough.

Alexander advanced suddenly, looming over her with glacial intensity. "Do you think our failed marriage gives you license to disrespect me?" he growled, voice low enough that only she could hear. "Not even Evelyn would dare speak to me this way. What makes you so bold?"

The barb struck deep. Isabella had never regretted loving Alexander or being his wife, even during those three years when he'd barely glanced her way. His indifference had chipped away at her self-worth daily.

Now she wished she could erase those years entirely.

Forcing down the ache in her chest, she met his gaze defiantly. "Evelyn tolerates your arrogance because she cares. You mean nothing to me now."

Alexander's eyes darkened dangerously. In the next heartbeat, Isabella fisted his silk tie, yanking him down to her level. "Did you expect gratitude for that sham marriage?" she hissed. "Let me make this clear - I'd rather have spent those years in prison."

Their faces were inches apart, the air between them crackling with hostility. Alexander's throat constricted against the tie's pressure, but the real pain came from her words - each one sharper than the last.

"Those three years were a waking nightmare. You think being Mrs. Kingsley was some grand privilege? A badge of honor?" She released him with a shove. "If I could erase you from my life completely, I would. Better yet - I wish I'd never loved you at all."

Alexander recoiled as if struck. His chest constricted violently, breath coming in short gasps. By the time he regained his composure, Isabella was already striding away. Nathaniel shot him a venomous glare before following - he might not have heard the exchange, but he recognized cruelty when he saw it.

"Did you delete those awful photos?" Vanessa trilled, rushing forward to cling to Alexander's arm. "That provincial nobody actually threatened me! Thank goodness you intervened before she could tarnish the Kingsley name."

But Alexander remained trapped in the wreckage of his ex-wife's words. His glare could have frozen hell over as he turned to Vanessa. "Were the photos authentic?"

Vanessa blinked. "Excuse me?"

"If they were fake," Alexander said coldly, "how could Isabella have used them against you?"

Vanessa's mouth opened and closed like a fish. This wasn't the reaction she'd expected. Was he... defending Isabella?

"I saw everything that night perfectly clearly," Alexander continued, his voice like shards of ice. "Given the situation's severity, you'll hold a press conference tomorrow to publicly apologize to that hotel employee."

"What?!" Vanessa's face twisted in outrage. "Absolutely not! I was a paying guest at their establishment! Their negligent service ruined my necklace! They should be apologizing to me!"

Suddenly, the second-floor display screen flickered to life without warning. Security footage began playing, instantly capturing the room's attention.

The video showed two glamorous women preening in a hotel elevator, their designer outfits and smug expressions unmistakable - Vanessa's so-called best friends.

"-God, can you believe Vanessa's behavior? One expensive necklace and she acts like the Queen of England."

"-If she didn't bankroll our shopping sprees, no one would tolerate her."

"-Think she's realized we're the ones who broke her precious necklace?"

"-We hid it under the bed. Let her turn the place upside down - serves her right for being so insufferable."

As the footage ended, both women went sheet-white.

Vanessa's shriek could have shattered crystal. She advanced on them like an avenging fury, heels clicking ominously against marble.

"Wait! This isn't what it looks like!" they stammered, backing away in panic. "We were set up!"

"You backstabbing vipers!" Vanessa lunged, all pretense of elegance abandoned. "After everything I've done for you!"

The ensuing catfight would be talked about for weeks.