Chapter 55
Evelyn Sinclair had just taken a step forward.
Sudden hurried footsteps sounded behind her.
"Miss Sinclair! Lord Alex—"
Ethan Miller's words were cut off as a long, strong hand clamped over his mouth.
Evelyn turned.
Mr. Kingsley had Ethan in a chokehold, one arm locked around his throat while the other hand muffled his protests, pinning him against the wall.
Evelyn froze.
Eleanor Kingsley smoothly stepped between them, waving Evelyn off. "Go ahead. I'll inform you about Grandfather's birthday celebration."
Evelyn glanced at the struggling Ethan before turning away without another word.
Once Evelyn was out of earshot, Eleanor gave her husband a look.
Mr. Kingsley released Ethan.
To their surprise, Ethan grabbed Mr. Kingsley's hand, tears and snot streaming down his face. "Chairman Kingsley, how could you let Miss Sinclair leave? Lord Alex said he won't live without her—"
"Then let him die!" Mr. Kingsley shook Ethan off in disgust. "A grown man threatening to kill himself over a woman? Pathetic!"
After cursing his son, he immediately turned to Eleanor with fawning devotion. "Of course, I'm nothing like that useless boy. Before my wife, I am nothing..."
Evelyn returned to Horizon Media with Vincent Sullivan's exclusive interview.
The entire news department erupted.
Company group chats exploded instantly.
This entertainment reporter, who had been employed for less than a month, had already achieved three miracles:
First, her exclusive scoop about Alexander Kingsley's scandal with Isabella Winslow resulted in an eight-million lawsuit.
Then, during an interview with Ryan Holt, she turned the tables on his slander and caused the superstar's career to collapse overnight.
And now—she'd secured an interview with Vincent Sullivan!
The legendary artist who hadn't given an interview in ten years!
[The Crown Prince must've pulled strings. That's some serious favoritism.]
Private chats buzzed with speculation.
[Didn't you see how Melissa got taken down last time?]
[What happened to Melissa?]
[The Crown Prince nearly fired her over Evelyn. Melissa was bawling, but he didn't even blink.]
[I hate nepotism, but damn, she's gorgeous.]
[Pretty face, empty head.]
[I like pretty girls!]
[Would you take her if you could?]
[Hell yes! If the Crown Prince wants her, why wouldn't I?]
[Could you handle Alexander Kingsley's eight-million lawsuit? Survive a Ryan Holt-level scandal? Get Vincent Sullivan to talk?]
[Now that's what I call real connections...]
The private chatter was vicious.
In the official company group, the tone shifted dramatically.
[Junior is amazing!]
[No one can compete with Evelyn!]
[Evelyn is the GOAT!]
[Teach us your ways!]
Evelyn: "..."
A private message from Martha Nash popped up.
Martha: [Spill. Did the Crown Prince help?]
Evelyn: [No.]
She couldn't be bothered to elaborate.
If even Martha was asking, she could imagine what everyone else thought.
But Evelyn didn't care.
Let them gossip in private. No one dared say anything to her face.
Even if some idiot did speak up, they'd only embarrass themselves.
All she cared about was completing assignments, earning bonuses, and securing her permanent position.
As for the jealousy and backhanded comments...
Consider it stress relief for her coworkers. Bottling things up caused health problems.
During lunch, colleagues swarmed her for details.
"How did you pull it off?"
"Did Vincent Sullivan give you a hard time?"
"Did you blackmail him or something?"
Evelyn smiled gently. "Nothing special. Just three days of persistence. Got lucky, I guess."
They dispersed in disappointment, returning to their private chats to whisper like mice who'd failed to steal cheese.
"Nice work." Martha patted Evelyn's shoulder. "Your permanent position is secured."
Evelyn gave a modest smile, neither arrogant nor obsequious.
Martha nodded inwardly.
This girl was far more complex than she appeared.
Everyone was blinded by her beauty, missing the steel and cunning beneath.
Hospital.
Alexander Kingsley slowly opened his eyes.
Harsh white light made his vision swim.
His last memory was gripping Ethan's shoulders...
Then blinding headlights, the world spinning.
A car accident?
A hand waved before his face. "Awake?"
His mother's voice.
Alexander tried to move. Pain shot through his body like shattered glass. His neck was stiff, immobile.
Gritting his teeth, he turned his head to see Eleanor watching him with an odd expression.
"Who am I?" She leaned in, eyes glinting strangely.
"Mom?" Alexander felt unnerved by her stare.
Her expression suggested he'd drunk poison instead of medicine.
Hearing his answer, Eleanor immediately lost interest. "You woke up too fast."
Alexander: "?"
"How long was I out?"
"Not long." Eleanor shrugged. "Seven or eight hours since last night."
Alexander relaxed.
The pain told him his injuries weren't severe—probably just soft tissue damage.
"Mom, press the call button for me."
With no one else in the room, he had to ask his mother.
Eleanor rolled her eyes. "No hands?"
Alexander: "..."
Was he adopted?
Shouldn't accident victims be pampered? Why was his mother looking at him like he was a nuisance?
Noticing his sulk, Eleanor waved her phone. "It's not that I don't care. You've been thrashing around so violently these past two days it took multiple people to restrain you. I refuse to believe you can't press a button now."
Alexander froze.
"You said I was only out for a few hours—"
"Correct." Eleanor drawled. "This time it was seven or eight hours. Before that, you were so agitated we needed sedatives. The doctors were ready to quit."
Alexander: "..."
"Oh!" Eleanor suddenly brightened, holding up her phone. "I recorded everything. Want to watch?"