Amy Sinclair glanced at her and then coolly averted her gaze.

"Ms. Sinclair, are you looking for Liam and Alexander?" Victoria Langley's voice was soft, almost sweet. "They're not here right now. Would you like me to help you find them?"

Amy replied with icy detachment, "That won't be necessary." Without another word, she brushed past Victoria, descending the grand staircase toward the music room where she was supposed to meet Oliver.

Victoria hurried after her. "Ms. Sinclair, could we talk?"

"I don’t believe we have anything to discuss, Ms. Langley," Amy said, her tone steady, not even sparing her a glance.

"Ms. Sinclair, it's about Alexander—"

"There's nothing to say," Amy cut her off, turning the corner toward the stairs. "Whatever is between you two doesn’t concern me."

"Ms. Sinclair!" Victoria suddenly seized Amy's wrist. "Just five minutes. Please."

"Ms. Langley, I’ve made myself clear." Amy's expression remained unreadable as she gently pulled her hand free.

As Amy moved to leave, Victoria instinctively stepped in front of her—but in her haste, she lost her footing. A sharp gasp escaped her lips as she tumbled down the stairs. "Ah!"

Blood bloomed across the pristine marble floor, a vivid crimson stain against the white.

Amy froze, momentarily stunned. "Victoria!"

A small figure darted forward, his face twisted with panic. "Victoria! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Victoria whispered weakly, forcing a fragile smile. "Liam, don’t tell your father about this."

Liam's eyes welled with tears as he stared at Victoria’s crumpled form. Then his gaze snapped up to Amy, still standing at the top of the stairs. His voice trembled with accusation. "Why did you push her?"

Amy’s brow furrowed as she descended slowly. But before she could reach Victoria, Liam threw himself between them, his small frame rigid with defiance.

His glare was sharp, filled with distrust. "Stay away! I won’t let you hurt her again!"

Amy stopped dead in her tracks.

A deep, commanding voice cut through the tension before she could respond. "Victoria. What happened?"

Alexander Blackwood stood at the base of the stairs, his dark suit immaculate, his expression hardening as he took in the scene. Without hesitation, he swept Victoria into his arms, his voice firm. "Call an ambulance!"

The emergency room light burned a harsh red overhead.

Alexander’s striking features were drawn tight, his jaw set in grim determination.

Nathan Prescott, who had rushed over upon hearing the news, wasted no time in pointing an accusing finger at Amy. "You pushed her, didn’t you? You vile, heartless woman!"

"You won’t stop until she’s truly broken, will you?" Nathan spat, his voice dripping with venom. "How can someone be so cruel? Have you no shame?"

Amy met his furious glare with cold indifference. To an outsider, it might have seemed she was his sworn enemy. "If we’re discussing shame, Mr. Prescott, you’d be the expert. Compared to you, I’m merely an amateur."

Nathan’s face twisted with rage, but Amy remained unshaken, her composure only fueling his fury.

"Today, you’ll pay for what you did to Victoria!" he snarled.

Amy didn’t flinch.

Nathan sneered. "Blaming others for your own failures—pathetic. Taking out your bitterness on someone else? That’s cowardice at its finest."