hapter 44
Just as Isabella raised the blade to strike, Alexander moved with viper-like speed, seizing her wrist and wrenching the weapon from her grasp.
The steel bit into his palm, but he didn’t so much as flinch. Pain barely registered in his hardened gaze as he held her stare, unyielding.
“Trying to silence me, Miss Sinclair?” His voice was deceptively soft, laced with tension.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she replied, her tone as icy as a winter storm.
Their hands remained locked, fingers brushing in a way that cast elongated shadows on the cave walls—shadows that twisted together like lovers in a stolen embrace.
But Alexander wasn’t one for theatrics.
He cut straight to the truth.
“Yes, I was paralyzed. But I recovered. The Kingsley Group is drowning in enemies and betrayals. I stayed in that wheelchair to lure out the real threats.”
He leaned in, so close she could see her own reflection in his piercing eyes.
“As for that night on the yacht—I was drugged. I had no control over my actions when I walked into that room. I never expected to find you there.”
His jaw clenched at the memory of her pinning him down. It was seared into his mind, but he wouldn’t shy from it.
“I take responsibility. Leaving was never an option.”
Isabella yanked her hand back, her expression unreadable.
“Save it. I’ve already forgotten it happened. It means nothing.”
She didn’t do complications, especially not with a man like Alexander—every move calculated, every weakness feigned for strategy. It spoke volumes about how ruthless he truly was.
“I’m just a divorced woman who nearly ended up homeless,” she said with a saccharine smile. “Sophia and Ethan already see me as a nuisance. The last thing I need is more drama. Now that I know your little secret, I doubt I’ll live long enough to share it.”
Her lips curved, golden firelight dancing across her face.
“So don’t worry. I’ll play dumb.”
Alexander let out a low chuckle, realizing how absurd his explanation must have sounded. Wolves pretending to be sheep? That wasn’t their style.
“Drop the act,” he said, smirking. “It’s painful to watch. No wonder your ex-husband chose someone like Sophia. If you’re going to play the naive lamb, at least commit to the role.”
“And what about you, Mr. Kingsley?” Isabella countered, done with pretenses. Now that they were being honest, she found this far more tolerable.
Alexander, showing no trace of his earlier vulnerability, assessed her coolly.
“If you kill me, the Kingsleys will hunt you like an animal. They’ll chase you to the ends of the earth. Even if you escape, you’ll never set foot in Ontdale again.”
He knew she had a reason for staying after her divorce—something she couldn’t walk away from. Killing him would only make her life harder.
That sword hadn’t been a real threat. It had been a test.
Her expression frosted over, recognizing the veiled warning. If she harmed him, the Kingsleys’ reach would make Ontdale a prison. She needed to stay—at least until the International Perfumery Competition, where she might uncover the truth about her mother’s disappearance.
Dealing with someone as sharp as Alexander had its downsides. They both knew how to keep the other in check.
But outwardly, Isabella remained unfazed.
“I can leave whenever I want. People like me don’t cling to places.”
