Chapter 725
Chapter 725:
“Lower my voice?” Alistair laughed, a harsh, jagged sound. He marched over to a pedestal in the corner of the room where a priceless Ming vase—one of Liam’s prized possessions—sat on display. “Your ex-husband tried to gut me like a fish, Skye. And you’re sitting here protecting his assets p>
He grabbed the vase.
“Alistair, don’t,” Skye warned, standing.
He didn’t hesitate. With a roar of frustration, he hurled the vase at the floor.
CRASH.
The sound was explosive. Porcelain shards flew across the room like shrapnel, skittering across the marble floor. The secretary in the hallway screamed.
“He’s a criminal!” Alistair shouted, turning to face the open door, ensuring the audience got their money’s worth. “He’s a fugitive! And if I find him before the police do, there won’t be enough of him left to put in a cell p>
Skye walked around her desk. She stepped over the jagged remains of the vase, her heels clicking sharply on the stone. She walked right up to Alistair.
She reached out and placed a hand on his good shoulder. To the onlookers, it looked like a plea. To Alistair, it was a signal.
“Calm down,” she whispered, her back to the door. “Beatrice is in the building. I saw her car downstairs p>
Alistair’s eyes narrowed. “Then let’s give the old witch a show p>
“What is the meaning of this p>
The voice cracked through the tension like a whip.
Beatrice Kensington stood in the doorway, leaning heavily on her cane, flanked by Arthur Sterling. Her face was a mask of aristocratic horror as she surveyed the shattered vase.
“That vase was from the Ming Dynasty,” Beatrice hissed, her knuckles white on her cane. “It has been in the Kensington family for eighty years p>
“It was ugly,” Alistair spat, turning to face her. “Just like everything else in this cursed building p>
D𝗮𝗂l𝗒 𝗎𝗉𝘥𝘢𝗍𝘦𝗌 оn 𝖻𝗲l𝗻𝗼𝘃е𝘭𝗌.𝗰𝘰𝗆
“You have no right to be here, Mr. Thorne,” Arthur said smoothly, stepping forward. “Skye, you are the Trustee. Why are you allowing this hooligan to destroy company property p>
Beatrice pointed a shaking finger at Skye. “Is this how you manage my grandson’s legacy? By letting your… paramour destroy it p>
Skye felt the anger rise in her chest, hot and familiar. But she pushed it down. She needed them to believe she had moved on. She needed them to believe Liam was truly alone.
She stepped closer to Alistair. She slid her arm around his waist, leaning into him. It was an intimate, possessive gesture.
“Alistair isn’t a hooligan, Arthur,” Skye said, her voice dripping with cold honey. “And he isn’t just my paramour p>
The room went silent. Beatrice blinked.
“Excuse me p>
“He’s my fiancé,” Skye lied.
The word tasted like ash, but she delivered it with a smile that could cut glass.