Chapter 83

The entire film set held its breath.

Alexander Kingsley's arrival was like a silent storm, sweeping through every corner. The heir of Kingsley Group carried an aura that made everyone instinctively tread lighter.

"Lord Alex is here!" the assistant director whispered, hands trembling with excitement.

Isabella Winslow had secured this role over Bianca White through sheer financial backing. The weight of Kingsley Group far surpassed that of Winwell Ventures.

With Alexander's presence, the crew collectively exhaled in relief.

Earlier, when they'd expelled the Horizon Media reporter, they'd feared retaliation. Now, with this financial titan's support, even ten Horizon Media outlets couldn't touch them.

Alexander moved through the corridor flanked by security, his chiseled features unreadable. At 6'1", his aristocratic bearing made him impossible to miss.

Male actors silently thanked heaven this crown prince wasn't in their industry, while actresses envied Isabella's luck.

"Alex!" Isabella rushed forward, the perfect picture of demure delight, reaching for his arm.

He sidestepped her effortlessly.

"You're here?" His gaze barely grazed her.

The set went dead silent.

Isabella's smile froze. The crew exchanged uneasy glances.

"Of...of course I am." She recovered quickly, leaning closer with practiced intimacy. "How could I not greet you personally?"

The tension dissolved as everyone assumed—Lord Alex simply didn't want his fiancée inconvenienced. Such doting devotion was almost nauseating.

In the lounge, the producer presented tea with shaking hands. "Lord Alex, your presence honors us. May we know—"

"Just these people?" Alexander cut him off, scanning the room.

The producer blinked in confusion.

Nathan Carter cleared his throat. "Actually—"

He'd rather be drowning in paperwork at headquarters. His boss had clearly come for Evelyn Sinclair, yet refused to say it aloud.

For the first time, Nathan understood Ethan Miller's daily struggles. That tactless assistant would've already shouted Evelyn's name.

"The reporter?" Alexander suddenly demanded.

An Orange Media journalist stepped forward eagerly. "Are you calling me, Lord Alex?"

"You?" Alexander's gaze turned glacial. "Unworthy."

The room temperature seemed to plummet.

"Which outlet are you with?" Nathan's expression darkened as he scanned the room—no sign of Evelyn.

Three critical meetings canceled. A private jet mobilized. All for nothing.

Alexander's long fingers tapped the armrest. "Cancel this afternoon's launch ceremony."

He turned to Nathan. "What's this production company called?"

The producer's knees buckled.

The Kingsley Group could collapse national currencies without breaking stride. Alexander could crush them like ants.

But what had they possibly done to offend him?

Isabella's nails dug into her palms, drawing blood.

She refused to believe her suspicion—Alexander had come for Evelyn.

"Miss Winslow," the director pulled her aside, voice shaking, "what's happening? Did we make some mistake?"

Isabella tasted copper from biting her cheek.

She'd schemed relentlessly to steal this project from Bianca. Orange Media had already begun smearing Bianca's reputation. If this collapsed now...

She inhaled sharply, each word a blade to her heart. "Alex...might be here because of that Horizon reporter. You'd better...find her."