Chapter 70

Alexander Kingsley's pupils constricted violently.

Evelyn Sinclair's voice was feather-light. "When did he come to Kingsbury? What's his connection to Autumn Detail and Sands Capital?"

His silence made her lips curl into a bitter smile. "You just drove him away... What a satisfying explanation."

"He worked at Autumn Detail..." Alexander's tone weakened noticeably when mentioning her parents. "That's how he got those photos."

"He only stayed three months!" Evelyn's voice suddenly sharpened. "He resigned a year before my parents' accident. Where did those photos come from? You'd believe anything he says?"

Of course. It wasn't his loved ones who died. His family wasn't destroyed.

She should be grateful he even offered an explanation...

"So," Alexander spoke abruptly, "you suspect someone deliberately gave him those photos and sold them to Horizon? They knew you'd see them?"

His piercing gaze seemed to bore into her soul. "You know who it is?"

Evelyn knew Alexander was brilliant.

With just a few clues, he'd pieced everything together.

Yet he refused to follow the trail further.

When all it would take was his willingness...

Never mind.

Evelyn suddenly felt liberated. They were already broken up. What more could she expect?

"I don't know." She flashed a perfectly crafted fake smile.

Because she had no proof.

If Alexander wouldn't investigate, she couldn't touch the culprit.

But she never expected this dismissive smile would ignite the powder keg.

Alexander crushed his lips against hers.

Dominating. Unyielding. Leaving no room for refusal.

Evelyn froze in shock.

His kiss was urgent and savage, as if trying to consume her whole.

Only when his hand slid up her thigh did she snap back to reality...

"Ah—!" Alexander hissed in pain.

Evelyn had bitten down hard.

"Stop the car!" She shoved him away violently.

The driver ignored her. Evelyn turned to wrench the door open, heedless of their speed.

Alexander yanked her back, their struggle rocking the vehicle.

"Have you lost your mind?"

Instead of breaking free, Evelyn found herself trapped tighter in his arms.

"Nathan. Privacy screen." Alexander's voice was hoarse.

The silver-gray divider rose silently...

Danger thickened in the enclosed space.

"Alexander," Evelyn's eyes brimmed with tears, "touch me and I'll kill myself."

He froze.

Those obsidian eyes burned into her, as if trying to brand her into his bones.

......

The car halted outside Horizon Media's building. Finally, Alexander released her.

He watched Evelyn's fleeing figure with unreadable darkness in his gaze.

"Nathan," the divider lowered, "trace the origin of those photos from Wu Chun."

Nathan didn't dare ask questions. "Understood."

The rearview mirror reflected Lord Alex's thunderous expression...

Clearly suffering from unfulfilled desire.

Ethan Miller might be foolish, but his dullness was a blessing. At least he wouldn't get eliminated for knowing too much...

......

"Evelyn!"

Evelyn smoothed her expression before turning.

Simon York approached—her colleague since returning to the entertainment department.

For today's Vincent Sullivan interview, they'd assigned her an assistant. Simon had volunteered.

He'd always been decent to her. Evelyn had no reason to refuse...

"When are we heading to Mr. Sullivan's?" Simon asked as they waited for the elevator.

His gaze flickered toward the building's entrance.

That car was gone now...

Not the Crown Prince's vehicle.

Pity he'd been too focused on confirming Evelyn's identity to note the license plate.

"We'll leave after gathering our gear upstairs." Evelyn stared at the elevator doors, seemingly oblivious to his glance.

Returning to Vincent Sullivan's mansion, Evelyn received a warm welcome.

The elderly artist inquired after her wellbeing while ignoring Simon completely.

Simon's palms grew clammy with nerves.

This opportunity had him tossing all night, too anxious to eat breakfast properly.

Now his stomach rebelled.

He excused himself four times during the interview, emerging pale-faced afterward.

"Sorry for being dead weight." His apology seemed genuine.

Evelyn smiled gently. "Don't worry. I once fainted during an interview."

That was Victoria Henn's excuse for assigning her a minder—claiming no one could bear responsibility if another "accident" occurred.

Evelyn drafted the article with remarkable speed.

By next morning, she'd sent the first version to Vincent Sullivan.

After incorporating his feedback, the department rushed it through approvals.

Just in time for magazine layout, the editorial team adjusted and sent it to print immediately.

With this task completed, Victoria surprisingly granted Evelyn two days off.

But her much-needed nap was shattered by Martha Nash's call.

"Wake up! Emergency!" Martha's voice jolted her awake. "Check your messages. Delete after reading!"

Martha was prone to dramatics. Evelyn initially dismissed it.

Then she saw the attachment.

Her face drained of color.

She called back immediately. "Martha. Send me the printing plant's address."

A brief hesitation. "Sending now! But whether you succeed or fail, don't rat me out!"

"Succeed and you'll be promoted to editor!" Evelyn vowed.

She dressed hastily and dashed downstairs, spotting a taxi across the street.

Evelyn waved while sprinting across the road.

Screeching brakes tore through the air...