Chapter 325

Evelyn's lips curved into a knowing smile, her enchanting dimples appearing like delicate crescent moons.

"Don't you want me to fall for you?" She tugged playfully at Alexander's silk tie, her eyes shimmering with feigned hurt. "The truth is, you're still in love with Victoria, aren't you?" Her fingers lingered on the expensive fabric before releasing it with dramatic flair. "If that's the case, I should leave now and spare us both the heartache."

She turned away, letting her shoulders slump in perfect imitation of dejection.

The moment his tie loosened, Alexander felt an inexplicable chill seep into his chest. Watching her retreating figure, something sharp twisted in his gut - an unfamiliar sensation he couldn't name.

"Stay."

His hand shot out, capturing Evelyn's wrist with surprising urgency.

Evelyn froze mid-step. Hidden from Alexander's view, a victorious smirk bloomed across her face. But her triumph lasted mere seconds before strong arms yanked her backward.

She collided with Alexander's broad chest, his signature sandalwood cologne enveloping her senses. Once, this scent had been her comfort, something she'd longed to breathe in every night. But years of waiting had turned that longing to stone, sinking deep into the abyss of her broken heart.

A bitter laugh threatened to escape her lips as she tilted her head upward.

Their eyes met unexpectedly. Alexander's gaze held an intensity that made her pulse stutter - dark, fathomless, and utterly unreadable. This tender look from a man known for his icy demeanor left her momentarily dizzy.

Then movement caught her eye. A shadowy figure lurked near the staircase, watching them intently.

Victoria. It had to be.

Only that snake would skulk about like this.

Evelyn felt cool fingers brush her cheek. Before she could react, Alexander's face descended toward hers. His lips captured hers in a searing kiss that stole her breath.

Her fists clenched at her sides, nails biting into her palms. Every instinct screamed to push him away, but the knowledge of Victoria's prying eyes kept her compliant.

Last time, he'd claimed drunkenness. But now? Stone sober and kissing her with startling passion.

This wasn't the Alexander she knew.

The man who'd once taken her to bed with clinical detachment, using her body as an outlet for frustration rather than affection.

Yet here he was, kissing her - kissing a woman who wore his ex-wife's face.

The irony wasn't lost on her.

But perhaps this proved her plan was working. Alexander was developing genuine feelings. Men like him didn't kiss women they didn't want.

Meanwhile, Henry Blackwood's eightieth birthday celebration lay in ruins.

Guests departed in hushed whispers, though the scandalous events would undoubtedly fuel society gossip for weeks. While Margaret Dawson's last-minute appearance had technically cleared Victoria's name, no one truly bought the convenient explanation.

In the grand parlor, the elderly patriarch leaned heavily on his cane, regarding the still-sniffling Victoria with open disdain.

"Hmph," he grumbled loud enough for all to hear. "About time my grandson saw through this viper's charade."

Victoria flinched as if struck. The insult hung in the air - everyone knew exactly what Henry meant. Her teeth ground together behind her perfect smile, even as she maintained her facade of wounded innocence.