Alexander's brow furrowed. "Send me her coordinates. I'll retrieve her personally."

...

An hour later, Alexander returned with Amy at his side.

He didn’t hesitate before addressing Gregory. "Have security and the front desk submit their resignations."

"Understood, sir." Gregory turned to leave when a composed feminine voice sliced through the tension.

"Mr. Blackwood, why punish innocent employees?"

Amy's eyes held the faintest glimmer of amusement, but her expression remained impassive.

"Wasn’t it you who explicitly forbade me from entering Blackwood Enterprises? They were merely following orders."

She shifted her gaze to Isabella, who stood stiffly nearby. "Isn’t that correct, Isabella?"

Isabella paled, lips pressed tightly together.

The last time Amy had attempted to see Alexander, it had indeed been his direct command that barred her from the premises.

And moments ago, Alexander hadn’t given Isabella any warning about Amy’s arrival.

Technically, Isabella hadn’t erred—except, perhaps, in her less-than-courteous demeanor.

Alexander was silent for a beat before speaking in an even tone. "Issue a new directive. From now on, if Amy arrives, notify me immediately."

"Yes, sir." Gregory acknowledged, but Amy interrupted.

"Unnecessary." Her voice was smooth, devoid of inflection. "I won’t be returning to Blackwood Enterprises."

She remembered how effortlessly Victoria had strolled in earlier without so much as a courtesy call, and the reception hadn’t batted an eye. But then, Alexander had always bent rules for Victoria.

Amy had long since stopped expecting fairness.

Nathan, observing the exchange, couldn’t suppress a scoff. He muttered just loud enough to be heard, "What a spectacle."

Amy turned, pinning him with an icy stare. "Pardon?"

Nathan smirked. "Am I mistaken? If you knew you weren’t welcome, you could’ve called ahead—saved everyone the trouble. Instead, you made a scene, forcing Alexander to chase after you. Quite the theatrics, wouldn’t you say?"

Amy arched a brow. "So you’re suggesting, Mr. Prescott, that after being unceremoniously ejected without apology, I should’ve loitered shamelessly as if nothing happened? That’s your definition of not being dramatic?"

Her smile was razor-sharp. "That’s not undramatic—that’s spineless. By the way, weren’t you the one proposing they install a sign—'No dogs or certain individuals permitted'?"

Alexander’s gaze chilled as it landed on Nathan. "Nathan, it seems you still haven’t grasped accountability."

Nathan’s face drained of color.

Victoria rushed to intervene. "Alexander, Nathan was only joking—"

Alexander’s expression remained unreadable. "Perhaps a stint in jail would clarify things. For both your sakes."

Tears brimmed in Victoria’s eyes. "Alexander, all those years abroad, Nathan was my only support. Without him, I might not have survived."

She pleaded, "Please, give him another chance." Turning to Nathan, she hissed, "Well? Apologize to Ms. Sinclair."

Nathan’s jaw clenched, but under Alexander’s stare, defiance withered.

Through gritted teeth, he muttered, "Amy, my apologies."

Amy regarded him coolly, offering no response.

She knew Alexander’s intervention wasn’t for her benefit. This was merely a lesson for Nathan—a liability who’d overstepped once too often.