Alexander had always believed Amy was using divorce as an empty threat, and the thought left a sour aftertaste in his mouth. When Victoria spoke, his expression turned glacial.

"Unnecessary," he stated crisply. "What I give remains given."

"But—" Victoria began to object.

Alexander cut her off sharply. "Gifts aren't meant to be reclaimed," he added, his gaze distant.

Victoria couldn't conceal her overwhelming gratitude.

Amy's fingers curled into fists involuntarily. Then, a wry smile touched her lips. "Ms. Langley, wasn't it you who wanted to borrow the violin? Fine. If Mr. Blackwood personally asks me, I might consider it."

Victoria's eyes widened in shock. Alexander's face darkened, his patience wearing thin.

"Amy, that's enough," he said icily.

Amy scoffed. "How surprising. I thought Mr. Blackwood would move mountains for Ms. Langley. Apparently, I overestimated your devotion."

There was a time Amy truly believed Alexander would sacrifice anything for Victoria. Now she understood—the only thing he'd willingly sacrifice was her.

A strange calm settled over Amy as she turned to the shop manager hovering nearby. "If I recall correctly, the rental period ends today. Prepare the violin for me to take home."

The manager glanced nervously at Alexander's stormy expression.

Amy arched an eyebrow. "Is there a problem? Do I not have rights to my own property?"

"Of course," the manager stammered. "I'll process the paperwork immediately, Ms. Sinclair."

With the formalities completed, Amy collected Celestial Nocturne and left without sparing either of them a backward glance.

Alexander watched her departure, his brow furrowed deeply.

Victoria lowered her gaze, guilt flashing across her delicate features. "Alex... it must be because you missed her birthday yesterday. This is all my fault for being such a burden."

"Don't blame yourself," Alexander replied evenly. "Focus on your concert preparations. I'll ensure Celestial Nocturne is delivered to you."

Victoria's face brightened instantly. "Thank you."

...

That evening, Alexander returned home unusually early—only to find no elaborate dinner waiting, no wife greeting him at the door.

At dinner time, Liam bounded downstairs expecting his usual meal. The empty dining room made him pause. "Dad, where's Mom? Did she forget about dinner?"

Amy had always been the perfect wife—composed, dutiful, reliable. While Alexander felt no particular affection for her, he'd grown accustomed to her impeccable household management.

With Liam's sensitive stomach and picky eating habits, Amy had always personally prepared every meal, never delegating to staff.

Remembering the day's events, Alexander pressed his lips together in irritation. How naive of her to think such petty tactics would work on him.

"Don't concern yourself with her," Alexander said coolly. "We'll dine out tonight."

Liam clapped excitedly. "Can we invite Victoria too? I want more of that amazing ice cream!"

"Ice cream?" Alexander frowned. "Your mother expressly forbade it because of your condition."