Chapter 57

Isabella felt her heart turn to ice as she watched Alexander lose control over Victoria.

"Ms. Victoria was at home just now, crying your name uncontrollably. Mrs. Sterling is worried she might harm herself and wants you to check on her," Before Gordon could finish, Alexander was already on his feet, storming out of the dining room.

"You ungrateful wretch! If you chase after that woman, you're no grandson of mine!" Reginald slammed his fist on the table.

But it was too late. Alexander's proud figure had already vanished from sight.

"All my efforts over the years couldn't change his mind. I'm powerless!" Reginald clutched his chest in anguish, guilt washing over him as he looked at Isabella.

Isabella forced a small smile, her cold fingers gently covering her grandfather's weathered hand. "Grandfather, don't say that. You've done so much for me. It's just that Alexander and I weren't meant to be."

Outside the villa, Alexander was about to get into his car when a voice stopped him.

"Mr. Kingsley!"

He turned to see Isabella standing under the harsh porch light, her eyes glinting like shards of ice.

A pang of guilt struck him. He opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it.

"Your sister verbally assaulted one of my hotel staff tonight, triggering a seizure. Tell her I won't let this go - she needs to apologize."

Alexander frowned. This wasn't what he'd expected.

The hopeful light in his eyes died.

"Evelyn is my sister, but I don't interfere in her personal affairs."

"I see. So personal matters are exempt from accountability." Isabella's lips curled into a frosty smile before she turned on her heel and walked away without another glance.

Alexander felt as if he'd been doused in ice water.

Was she mocking him?

That night, Alexander went to comfort Victoria in her "severe depressive episode." He didn't return until dawn.

Though recent events had created distance between them, seeing her depression diagnosis still tugged at his heartstrings.

Depression was his Achilles' heel.

"Mr. Kingsley, there's an issue. How would you like it handled?" Gordon asked hesitantly, phone in hand.

"What is it?" Alexander massaged his temples.

"The video of your sister berating the hotel waitress has gone viral. PR wants to know how to contain the damage to Kingsley Group's reputation."

"Delete it." Alexander's lips thinned. "Evelyn's personal issues won't tarnish the company. Clean it up."

"Yes, sir!"

Back at the villa, Alexander found Margaret waiting up for him in her nightgown, worry lines creasing her face.

"Margaret, I told you not to wait. I might be out late." A rare warmth flickered in his chest.

Margaret had been like this since his childhood - waiting up like a mother unless explicitly told not to.

But she wasn't getting any younger. For three years, Isabella had taken over this duty, waiting faithfully every night.

"Have you eaten? I kept dinner warm. You really should sleep earlier - these headaches come from overwork. I know you don't want to hear it, but I must say it. I'm just a servant, not family." Margaret sighed bitterly. "If only Isabella were still here... I saw how her flawless complexion dulled caring for you. It breaks my heart. You've thrown away your good fortune."

Alexander's vision blurred as Isabella's bright, wounded eyes surfaced in his mind.

He'd never receive such devotion again. The loss cut deeper than he'd admit.

"Isabella wasn't my fortune - she was my curse."

Alexander stalked to his room, where a familiar tailor's box sat on his desk. Opening it, he found the suit perfectly restored - barely a trace of damage remained.

A satisfied smile tugged at his lips.

"You still have feelings for her, don't you?" Margaret asked softly.

"Fine craftsmanship shouldn't go to waste," Alexander replied coolly, fingers tracing the smooth fabric.

11:25 PM

"Isabella put more than craftsmanship into caring for you."

Margaret sighed heavily. "Come with me."

She led him to Isabella's former room and opened a corner wardrobe. "Look."

The shelves were meticulously organized with color-coded gift boxes.

Alexander froze. "What is this?"

"Every gift Isabella prepared for you over three years. Birthdays, anniversaries, Valentine's Days... even the date you first met. She knew you didn't care, but she poured her heart into each one."

Alexander's chest tightened.

"I can't speak for Ms. Sterling's feelings, but Isabella loved you to the marrow. I never liked that Victoria - all airs and pretenses." Margaret's lips twisted in distaste. "That necklace you gave her? The Sterlings are auctioning it off. After all your effort, they discard it so casually? And Victoria does nothing?"

"Enough, Margaret." Alexander cut her off sharply.

"Do you know how much Isabella coveted that necklace? How she cried when she heard it was for Victoria?" Margaret's voice trembled with indignation.

Alexander stood abruptly, something clenching in his fist.

She'd cried. Over a necklace.

Margaret opened a delicate box, revealing its contents.

Alexander's blood ran cold.

Inside were forgotten fragments of his life - discarded cufflinks, old ties, a retired lighter. She'd treasured what he'd thrown away.

"Isabella would have cherished your gifts, never discarded them thoughtlessly!"

"Victoria didn't know about the auction. She'd have stopped it." Alexander's fists clenched, bitterness flooding his mouth.

He didn't know who he was defending anymore.

"You can't wake someone pretending to sleep." Margaret shook her head sadly and left.

Alexander stood alone, emotions churning.

Those three years of wifely perfection had been an act. She'd had temper, cared deeply, burned with jealousy.

She'd simply swallowed every hurt.

Where had that passionate woman gone? Why couldn't he find her in those indifferent eyes now?

Alexander gritted his teeth, resentment twisting his features.