"Alexander, are you avoiding me now?"

Victoria glided into the room, her movements as graceful as ever, a delicate porcelain container cradled in her hands.

Alexander's expression darkened. "Victoria, what brings you here?"

Her voice was soft, almost melodic. "I heard your stomach has been troubling you again. I prepared something soothing—thought you might need it."

A flicker of warmth softened the sharp edges of Alexander's usually stoic features.

"You didn't have to go out of your way."

Victoria smiled gently, twisting the lid open. The fragrant steam rose between them, carrying the scent of herbs and warmth.

"Liam mentioned your stomach has always been sensitive, and that Amy used to make remedies for you. I spent some time at Theodore's place and learned a few of his recipes. They're supposed to help."

Her eyes, luminous with quiet affection, met his.

"Alexander, I could make these for you and Liam from now on, if you'd like."

If Amy could do it, so could she. Victoria had never considered herself inferior in any way.

Alexander's gaze remained unreadable. "Victoria, you should focus on your own recovery first. Don’t trouble yourself with this."

Victoria hesitated, her teeth grazing her lower lip unconsciously. Ever since Alexander's divorce from Amy, he had grown distant. He still appeared when she needed him, but the special tenderness he once reserved for her had vanished.

Drawing a steadying breath, she forced a smile. "Alexander, do you remember that evening in the garden, when I was practicing 'Celestial Nocturne'? You said you'd never heard anything so enchanting. I didn’t know it was your birthday that day—if I had, I would’ve played something else for you."

The mention of the past stirred something in Alexander's eyes.

His voice was low, nearly detached. "Back then, I didn’t realize you were the one who saved Nathan."

Victoria's smile softened. "Nathan said he was eager to introduce me to his best friend. When I first met you, I was a little intimidated."

Those had been simpler days for all of them. Even Alexander, usually so guarded, allowed a fleeting trace of nostalgia to cross his expression.

Victoria caught the shift and, lowering her voice, asked, "Alexander, did you ever find out who was behind the incident at my studio?"

Alexander's tone was neutral. "Yes. It was a few of your online detractors—they hired someone to do it."

Victoria met his gaze evenly. "And... weren’t some of them Amy’s fans as well?"

He paused briefly. "Yes."

A faint, knowing smile touched Victoria’s lips. "Alexander, do you still believe Amy had nothing to do with it?"

Alexander’s expression remained impassive. "As of now, there’s no evidence linking her to any of it."

"But it was her fans, wasn’t it?" Victoria pressed, her voice quiet but insistent.

Alexander’s eyes darkened, unreadable. "Victoria, you know as well as I do—suspicions aren’t proof."

Victoria held his gaze. "So what then? Do we just let the real culprit walk free?"

He swallowed hard but remained silent.

Victoria’s lashes fluttered, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

"Alexander, I understand. She’s your ex-wife, Liam’s mother. Of course you want to protect her. If it were just the usual—if she only wanted to humiliate me again—I’d stay silent, like always."

She looked up at him suddenly, her gentle eyes burning with quiet intensity.

"But you should know this. Even after years of illness, I never stopped performing. I’ve sacrificed everything for the violin—my comfort, my health, even my life, if it comes to that. But I will never let anyone tarnish what I love."