Alexander's stormy gaze darkened as a memory surfaced—when Amy had handed Victoria a drink earlier, Victoria had "accidentally" spilled it all over Amy.

Victoria had claimed it was an accident, insisting Amy hadn't held the glass properly.

But Alexander hadn't believed her for a second.

Now, as Amy met his cold, unreadable expression, her lips curled into a sharp, defiant smile.

"That's right," she murmured, voice dripping with quiet venom. "I did it on purpose. I'd rather shatter something into a million pieces than let her have it. From now on, what's mine stays mine. And one more thing..."

She tilted her chin up, locking eyes with him. "Does it upset you? Good. If it hurts, then you're finally understanding. As long as you refuse to divorce me, things like this will keep happening. Even if it breaks your heart... you'll just have to deal with it."

Nathan and Alexander wanted to play games?

Fine.

She wasn't afraid of either of them.

Before they could devise new ways to torment her, she'd make sure they tasted their own medicine.

In the past, all she'd wanted was freedom. She'd swallowed her pride, endured humiliation, just for the chance to escape.

But enough was enough. They kept pushing, treating her like she was nothing—just a doormat to wipe their feet on.

Did they really think she was that easy to break?

Alexander's brow furrowed slightly. "Amy, I told you—if you behave, I'll make sure you're compensated fairly—"

She cut him off with a cold laugh. "Who cares about your money?"

He scoffed. "If you didn't care, would you still flaunt the Blackwood name everywhere? Isn't that what you want—my name, my status?"

Amy's smile turned mocking. "If I recall correctly, in all these five years, the money I've gotten from you doesn't even cover the cost of one of Victoria's designer purses."

Something flickered in Alexander's eyes.

He realized—he'd never once seen Amy charge a luxury purchase to his accounts.

His lips parted. "Amy, if there's something you want, just tell me."

She arched a brow. "Does Victoria ever have to ask? The second she mentions liking something, you and your father trip over yourselves to hand it to her. Even if it's mine, you give it away without hesitation."

Alexander fell silent.

Amy continued, voice icy. "You asked what I want? Fine. I want Victoria's violin—Ocean's Lament. Why don't you give it to me?"

It wasn't until later that Amy discovered Ocean's Lament wasn't just any violin. The Solmaris Daily had reported it—sold at auction for nearly nine figures to a mysterious buyer.

Now she knew exactly who that buyer was.

"Amy, don't be ridiculous," Alexander said, tone clipped.

She smirked. "Just say you won't give it to me. Spare me the 'you're being unreasonable' act, Alexander. Can't you come up with something new?"

For a moment, Alexander remembered—he'd never given Amy anything meaningful. Not long ago, he'd even declined Arthur Pendleton's invitation on her behalf.

His expression softened slightly.

"The bracelet you broke—I'll cover it. You don’t have to pay. I’ll put it on my account."

Even as the owner of Windsor Jewelers, Alexander couldn't just walk out without payment—everything was meticulously tracked. Nathan knew this too, which was why he hadn't asked Alexander to simply waive the bill.

After all, Alexander had already been forced to pay Amy a hundred million over the Victoria scandal. Nathan wasn't about to let him foot another bill.

Amy's voice was cold, detached. "You're mistaken, Alexander. The bracelet broke because Ms. Langley dropped it. If anyone's putting it on your account, it's her. Not me. This has nothing to do with me."

With that, she turned away, ignoring him completely as she resumed browsing the jewelry.