The crowd of journalists exchanged knowing looks, their faces breaking into obsequious smiles.

"Since it's Mr. Blackwood's request, we'd be fools not to comply."

They scattered immediately, not daring to linger or snap any unauthorized shots. Who was Alexander Blackwood? Crossing him meant career suicide in this city.

As soon as the reporters vanished, the atmosphere turned glacial.

Alexander's piercing gaze locked onto Amy, nestled in another man's arms, his expression darkening like a brewing storm.

His lips parted, voice dripping with frost. "Get. Down."

Amy squirmed uncomfortably in the stranger's hold. With the scandal already swirling around her, she refused to drag Sebastian into her mess.

Her voice was soft but firm. "Please, put me down."

Sebastian, however, seemed oblivious to Alexander's murderous glare. "Not happening. That ankle needs medical attention."

Alexander's stare remained fixed on Amy, his eyes like shards of ice. "Amy," he repeated, tone lethal. "I won't ask again."

Normally, Alexander was a master of restraint, but now, his fury was palpable. His jaw clenched, his entire demeanor radiating disgust—as if she were something vile.

When she didn't move, his expression darkened further. He stepped forward, hand outstretched to yank her free.

Sebastian tried to block him, but with Amy in his arms, his movement was too slow.

In one swift motion, Alexander wrenched Amy away, gripping her wrist like a shackle as he turned to leave.

The moment her feet touched the ground, pain lanced through her injured ankle. She gasped, wincing—just as Sebastian caught her other hand.

Alexander froze. His glare could have frozen hell over. "Let. Her. Go."

Sebastian smirked, unfazed. "Funny, I was about to say the same to you."

Alexander's eyebrow arched, arrogance dripping from his voice. "You think you have any right?"

Sebastian chuckled. "Whether I do or not isn't your call. The only opinion that matters here is Celeste's."

He turned to Amy, voice softening. "Celeste, do you want to go with him?"

Amy knew he was using her stage name deliberately—to provoke.

Her gaze flicked to Victoria, standing nearby. Alexander and Victoria had just exited the same restaurant together. No doubt he'd shared Amy's "predicament" to earn a smile from his precious first love.

Amy's face went carefully blank. She refused to look at Alexander, focusing instead on Sebastian. "My ankle really hurts. Could you take me to the hospital, Mr. Kingsley?"

Sebastian's grin widened. "For you? Anything."

Alexander's eyes flashed with disbelief. "Amy," he said coldly, "don't tell me you're entangled with him now too."

Amy's lips thinned. "Mr. Blackwood, isn't it amusing? There's no scandal here. No affair. We had lunch, and he offered help when I got hurt. Yet in your mind, that means something sordid?"

Her gaze slid to Victoria, voice icy. "Or is it that every time I speak to a man, you assume the worst? Maybe you're just projecting your own behavior onto me."