Chapter 66
“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Miss Sinclair.”
Alexander Kingsley’s grip was firm yet unhurried, his touch lingering just a fraction longer than necessary.
“You hesitated at first, but my grandmother’s reputation swayed you, didn’t it?”
Isabella Sinclair tilted her head slightly, her gaze unwavering.
Family ties were powerful motivators, and she understood his caution.
“Indeed. Your grandmother’s mastery in perfumery is legendary. I’ve always admired her techniques.” Her voice was smooth, deliberate. “Every time I encounter something I can’t replicate, it becomes an obsession. The way she balances opposing scents—warmth and coolness in perfect harmony—is extraordinary. I’ve tried, but never quite achieved the same effect.”
A faint, knowing smile curved her lips.
“But if you’re willing to guide me, Alexander, you could save me years of trial and error.”
Alexander was a man who noticed everything—subtle shifts in tone, hidden meanings beneath words. His instincts were razor-sharp, yet Isabella remained an enigma: poised, controlled, never revealing more than necessary.
She wasn’t foolish. A direct approach to his grandmother wasn’t required—not yet. As long as she could infiltrate his world, the truth would reveal itself in time.
“You flatter me, Miss Sinclair.” His voice was even, though his fingers twitched slightly, as if resisting the urge to curl around hers. “I honor every agreement I make, but winning over my niece won’t be simple. Children are… unpredictable. Perhaps you’d prefer to ask for something else?”
He shifted the conversation effortlessly, his tone light but deliberate.
“Consider it repayment for saving my life that night.”
Isabella arched a brow, amusement glinting in her eyes. “Which night are we referring to? The cruise ship or the cave?”
His lips quirked, hinting at something unspoken. He stepped closer, closing the distance between them just enough to blur the lines between business and something far more personal.
Alexander felt the warmth of her breath. Her lashes, dark and delicate, fluttered as if brushing against his thoughts, leaving an unsettling, intoxicating effect.
Before he could respond, she murmured, “So, do I get anything I want?”
His pulse stuttered. No woman had ever unsettled him like this.
“Within reason,” he managed, his voice rougher than intended.
Isabella’s smile widened, and the charged tension dissipated as quickly as it had formed. She stepped back, the moment evaporating into the air between them.
“I’ll remember that. If I ever find myself in trouble, you’ll be the first I call, Mr. Kingsley.”
In one fluid motion, she plucked a strand of hair from his shoulder, tucking it into her palm with practiced ease.
According to the intel she’d gathered, Alexander was roughly her age, and the timeline of his mother’s death aligned suspiciously with her own mother’s disappearance. And his grandmother’s perfumery secrets? Identical to those her mother had mastered.
The possibility that they shared more than business ties—perhaps even blood—sent a shiver down her spine.
But any lead, no matter how tenuous, was worth pursuing.
A sharp knock interrupted them. Alexander’s assistant, Sebastian Harrington, entered, then froze mid-step.
The sight before him was… unexpected. His notoriously reserved boss stood unusually close to Isabella Sinclair, their proximity anything but professional. The air between them crackled with something Sebastian couldn’t quite name—something dangerously close to intimacy.
Was this the same woman who had uncovered Alexander’s secret about faking his disability? Now, the tension between them was entirely different—charged, familiar.
Swallowing his surprise, Sebastian cleared his throat. “Sir, the media has swarmed the building. Our car can’t get through. Ontario’s largest network is out there, along with two international outlets. They’ve been waiting for over an hour.”
He’d never seen such frenzy. But then again, Alexander wasn’t just the CEO of the world’s most prestigious luxury brand—he was also the heir to the Kingsley empire. And now, with the revelation that he headed Charisma Company and his alliance with the Everett Group in perfumery? Every headline was explosive.
“Several Kingsley-affiliated outlets have also requested interviews,” Sebastian added. “They’ve said even a single photo would suffice.”
“Well, it seems you’re in high demand, Mr. Kingsley. I’ll leave you to it.” Isabella flashed a warm smile, scooping up her purse with effortless grace. The strand of his hair was already safely tucked away.
“To our future… collaborations.”
Alexander barely registered Sebastian’s words, his gaze tracking Isabella as she walked away. It took him a long moment to snap back to reality.
His expression darkened, unreadable, before he finally muttered, “Get me the list of reporters.”
