Chapter 7

Evelyn's fingertip tapped lightly on the screen. "What am I supposed to see?" Her voice remained calm.

"The news about Alexander and me getting engaged," Isabella's laughter crackled through the phone. "We just picked out the diamond ring yesterday. Don't tell me you're still in the dark?"

"Is that so?" Evelyn's tone didn't waver. "But I heard he's preparing to sue the media for spreading rumors. This so-called official announcement seems to be your doing alone."

The laughter died abruptly.

"Evelyn Sinclair," Isabella's voice turned sharp. "Your family is already in ruins, yet you still put on this act of superiority?"

"Alexander isn't going public yet because he's worried about the stock prices of both companies," Isabella's words grew more heated. "Even if reporters ask him directly, he'll deny it. But the ring is real, and so are our feelings!"

Evelyn traced the edge of her phone absently. "Seeing isn't always believing."

"Horizon Media just published our seven-year love story today!" Isabella nearly hissed through gritted teeth. "Go read it—it's all solid proof!"

Evelyn suddenly asked, "Would you stake the Winslow family's reputation on it?"

"Of course! My word is the Winslow family's stance!"

"Good. Then I wish you happiness."

The moment the call ended, Evelyn swiftly slipped into the emergency stairwell. Her fingers moved deftly as she edited the recording, encrypting and saving the crucial segments.

"Martha," she dialed another number, her voice steady. "I have Isabella admitting to the relationship on tape."

"My God!" Martha gasped on the other end. "The entire industry couldn't get her to talk. How did you manage it?"

Evelyn allowed herself a faint smile. "Luck was on my side."

After hanging up, she paused in thought before calling another contact. "Charlie, keep watching tonight. Update me immediately if anything happens."

A tiny camera embedded in her bag's clasp glinted faintly.

Alexander Kingsley, you brought this upon yourself.

......

The elevator doors slid open on the fifteenth floor of Karl's Boutique Hotel.

Alexander strode forward, phone pressed to his ear.

"Lord Alex," Ethan's voice carried tension. "Madam Kingsley has followed you to the capital. She's staying right next door in 1553!"

Alexander's steps faltered. "You're certain it's her?"

"The hotel registered her exclusive card." Ethan swallowed hard. "She seems... emotionally unstable at the moment."

Alexander's gaze landed on the door ahead—1553.

Without hesitation, he turned toward the emergency exit. Years of experience had taught him to avoid his mother when she was in a rage.

Evelyn had just pushed open the door to the hallway when a tall figure suddenly stepped into the stairwell.

Their eyes met in the dim lighting.

The air between them froze.