Chapter 140
The clock had long passed midnight when Alexander finally finished reviewing the last of his documents. A faint glow still seeped from beneath the lab door.
He didn’t need to guess who was still awake at this hour.
It was always Isabella.
“You’re burning the midnight oil again, Ms. Sinclair,” Alexander remarked as he pushed the door open, his brows knitting together instinctively.
Isabella was hunched over her computer, her fingers flying across the keyboard, but the exhaustion in her eyes was unmistakable. She hadn’t slept well the night before, and yet here she was, working late again.
“Staying up like this isn’t good for you.”
She didn’t even glance up, recognizing his voice immediately. With practiced ease, she slipped a small USB drive into her pocket before stretching and turning toward him.
“And what about you, Mr. Kingsley? Seems we’re both guilty of overworking.” She rubbed her eyes, finally tearing her gaze from the screen.
Alexander handed her a cappuccino. “The company’s undergoing an audit, and perfume orders have been pouring in. I’ve been swamped. Since I made you a shareholder, it’s my responsibility if you push yourself too hard.”
“Don’t worry about me,” she replied, taking a long sip of the coffee without hesitation. “I just got caught up perfecting a new fragrance blend. Lost track of time, that’s all.”
It was only half the truth. She had been working on perfumes, but most of her night had been spent hacking into Marcus’s system, copying encrypted files, and attempting to breach his main server. Fatigue clung to her like a second skin.
“Still, thanks for the concern,” she added with a small smile.
Isabella had always been a lone wolf. With the lab staff still not fully vetted, she wasn’t about to let her guard down. The sharks circling her hadn’t struck yet, but she knew it was only a matter of time.
Alexander settled into his wheelchair, watching as she packed up her equipment. After a beat of silence, he said, “Come on. I’ll drive you home.”
“No need. It’s not raining, and my car’s in the underground garage. I parked close today.”
“It’s no trouble. I’m heading that way,” he replied smoothly.
Isabella arched a brow, giving him a skeptical look. “But the Kingsley estate and Muisvedo are in opposite directions. Pretty sure you’re not heading my way.”
Classic Alexander. He could spin lies without missing a beat.
He didn’t flinch. “Actually, I have business in Muisvedo. So, it’s on the way.”
“Is that so?” she mused. “Well, if that’s the case, I won’t argue.” Refusing now would only make things awkward. Besides, wasn’t building trust with him part of the plan? She grabbed her bag, flicked off the lights, and moved toward the door.
“But Mr. Kingsley,” she added, “why don’t you head down first? Even at this hour, there are eyes everywhere. You can wait for me in the garage.”
“Ms. Sinclair,” he countered, his voice laced with quiet authority, “you’re being overly cautious. No one’s around now.” He leaned back in his wheelchair, an unspoken warning in his tone. “And if anyone does start rumors, I’ll make sure they regret it.”
She smirked. “Just trying to avoid unnecessary drama. I’ll be down in a few.”
“Fine,” he conceded, his expression unreadable, though something flickered in his gaze. “I’ll wait for you in the garage.”
As he wheeled out, Alexander’s thoughts tangled. Isabella always kept him at arm’s length, as if she were hiding something. Last time, she’d refused his offer to drive her home. Now, she was doing it again.
It intrigued him. No—more than that. It made him want to unravel her.
Maybe he was even starting to enjoy this push-and-pull between them.
Ten minutes later, Isabella stepped into the elevator.
From the shadows of the first floor, Marcus emerged, his lips curling into a sneer as he watched the doors close behind her.
“Isabella,” he muttered under his breath. “This is your last night at Charisma.”
He was determined to see her gone—for good.
