Chapter 11

The master bedroom at Royal Gardens remained cold and empty.

Alexander Kingsley stood in the center of the walk-in closet, his gaze sweeping over the meticulously arranged dresses. Each one was a limited-edition piece he'd personally selected—expensive, untouched.

"Twelve hours." His voice was glacial. "Make her crawl back to me."

Ethan Miller felt sweat trickle down his spine.

Miss Sinclair had left without even taking her favorite clothes. This was a direct challenge to Lord Alex's authority.

"Horizon Media..." Ethan forced himself to report. "They claim to have more evidence. They're advising us to withdraw the cease and desist letter."

Alexander smirked, long fingers tapping the armrest.

"That journalist. Did you dig deeper?"

"Duan Sheli." Ethan handed over the file. "New rising star at Horizon."

"Duan Sheli?" Alexander's eyes darkened. "Destroy him."

Ethan's pulse spiked. Lord Alex was truly enraged this time.

Years ago, he'd shown mercy to Julian Ashford only because Evelyn had begged on her knees. Now it seemed they'd nurtured a viper.

"Assemble the legal team." Alexander rose, his tailored suit accentuating his long legs. "I want him ruined."

As Ethan retreated, Mrs. Wilson intercepted him in the hallway.

"Looking for Miss Sinclair?" She lowered her voice. "I might have an idea..."

——

Horizon Media's conference room.

Martha Nash was outlining this month's editorial focus when Evelyn Sinclair's phone vibrated.

She stepped into the corridor. Her face paled the moment she answered.

"Sophie?"

Her sister's frail voice came through. "Sis... this nice lady says she'll help me get treatment..."

Evelyn's nails dug into her palm.

"Isabella," she said tightly. "Leave my sister out of this."

Isabella Winslow's laugh slithered like a serpent. "So tense, Evelyn. I'm just visiting." A deliberate pause. "Such a sweet child. Accidents happen..."

Evelyn saw her mother's falling body flash before her eyes.

"What do you want?"

"One hour. The hospital." Isabella's tone was singsong. "Tick-tock."

The line went dead. Evelyn's hands still trembled. Outside, storm clouds gathered—mirroring that day when a silhouette had plunged from the sky.

Mom, don't jump—

She squeezed her eyes shut. When they reopened, all emotion had been locked away. She turned toward the elevators, footsteps urgent and resolute.