Chapter 256
Ethan Blackwood, who had initially regarded the Kingsley family with thinly veiled irritation, now wore an expression of calculated calm.
“Your generosity is noted,” he said smoothly. “Should the Blackwood Group ever require assistance, we might explore a collaboration.”
Isabella Sinclair, ever the epitome of grace, even extended courtesy on behalf of the notoriously unpredictable Alexander Kingsley—proof of her razor-sharp emotional intelligence.
Ethan couldn’t help the flicker of satisfaction at her composure.
Isabella offered a practiced smile.
“Of course. We should take our leave now.”
“Safe travels, Mrs. Kingsley,” Ethan said, his tone polished.
“Thank you, but there’s no need for formalities,” Isabella replied, her smile lingering until the car door sealed shut behind her.
The moment they were enclosed in the vehicle, her pleasant facade shattered, replaced by a glacial glare.
The second Damian Kingsley settled into the passenger seat, a sharp crack echoed through the cabin—her palm striking his cheek with precision.
“Have you lost all sense?” she hissed, her voice like honed steel. “Air your grievances in front of them like some petulant child? What kind of fool have I raised?”
Disgust dripped from every word, thick enough to suffocate.
“After all this time, we finally have an opening. If you dare jeopardize this—” Her threat hung unfinished, but the implication was clear. Wait until we’re home.
Damian, his cheek burning, stayed silent.
Noting his tension, Isabella reached over, adjusting his collar with sudden gentleness. Her voice softened to honeyed sweetness—a stark contrast to the venom of moments ago. To an outsider, she might have looked every inch the doting mother.
“Darling, that Sophia girl is nothing but trouble. Stay away. If you tangle yourself in a scandal with her, you’ll regret it.”
Damian’s jaw clenched. She’d seen right through him—the way his gaze had lingered on Sophia, the hunger in his eyes. But Isabella didn’t tolerate risks. She could overlook her son’s dalliances—but not if they threatened the family’s reputation.
“I understand, Mother,” he ground out.
Meanwhile, in the VIP lounge, Isabella had been on her way to find Alexander when she stepped inside and immediately recoiled. The air itself felt charged, thick with the promise of violence.
“If anything happens to Amelia, there will be consequences,” Alexander’s voice was a low, lethal snarl. He pressed his fingers to his temple, his fury carving shadows across his face.
“What exactly happened?”
His subordinates knelt before him, heads bowed under the weight of failure. Not one dared meet his gaze.
“Sir, Sebastian and Amelia were in the lounge together. Everything seemed normal—but when we checked again, she was gone,” one confessed.
Sebastian Harrington, also on his knees, looked stricken. “I’m sorry, sir. She said she was thirsty. I went to fetch water—when I returned, she’d vanished.”
Alexander fought to steady his breathing. “Find her. Now.”
Herman dipped his head lower. “The team has already locked down the venue. No traces yet—but we’re cross-referencing every vehicle that entered or exited. License plates are being pulled for review.”
Just then, a knock sounded. Isabella stepped inside.
“If it’s not too forward, Mr. Kingsley, I’d like to assist.”
She hadn’t anticipated this—Amelia’s disappearance was a variable she hadn’t accounted for.
The storm in Alexander’s eyes eased fractionally at her presence.
“I appreciate that, Ms. Sinclair.”
“No thanks necessary,” she replied smoothly. “I care about Amelia as well.”
With that, she began surveying the room. Her movements were methodical—fingers skimming the sofa’s edge before lifting to her nose. Her expression sharpened.
“There’s a sedative residue. A fast-acting variant—one that evaporates within an hour. The dosage would’ve had to be precise.”
A beat of silence. Then—
“Check all vehicles that left the city an hour ago. Focus on those heading north.”
