Amy sighed in frustration as she redialed Alexander's number for what felt like the hundredth time.

The phone rang endlessly before finally cutting off on its own.

The two receptionists exchanged knowing glances, their expressions dripping with disdain as if Amy were some kind of nuisance they had to endure.

One of them, a sharp-eyed brunette, let her gaze linger on Amy's striking features before smirking. "Pathetic. If you were really Mrs. Blackwood, don’t you think you’d have your husband’s private number?"

The other, a blonde with a permanently pinched expression, scoffed. "Honestly, the audacity of some women. Gold diggers these days don’t even try to be subtle anymore."

"I’ve seen plenty of pretty faces waltz in here thinking they can get Mr. Blackwood’s attention, but pretending to be his wife? That’s a new low," the brunette added, just loud enough for Amy to hear.

Amy clenched her fists. Five years of marriage to Alexander, and yet here she was—treated like a stranger in his own empire.

"Is Alexander in the building today?" she asked, keeping her tone even.

The blonde receptionist gave her a cold smile. "Company policy prohibits disclosing Mr. Blackwood’s schedule to outsiders."

The brunette smirked. "Shouldn’t you know where your husband is, Mrs. Blackwood?"

Amy turned away, walking toward the plush waiting area before she said something she’d regret.

But the receptionists weren’t done.

"You should leave. Mr. Blackwood doesn’t have time for women like you," the blonde called after her.

"You’re just embarrassing yourself," the brunette added.

"Security will escort you out if you don’t leave on your own!"

Amy had tried to be patient, understanding that they were just doing their jobs—but this? This was outright hostility.

She turned back to face them, a slow smirk curving her lips.

"Oh? So this is the level of professionalism Blackwood Enterprises prides itself on?" She pulled out her phone, tapping the record button.

"I wonder how this would look on Solmaris Daily. The headline could read: Blackwood Receptionists Humiliate Visitors—Is This Corporate Culture or Just Bad Hiring?"

Her voice was smooth, almost amused. "Do you think a scandal like this would affect the company’s stock price?"

The color drained from the receptionists’ faces.

They might have dismissed Amy as just another desperate woman, but an unprofessional scandal? That was a risk they couldn’t afford.

Their smug expressions faltered. Working at Blackwood Enterprises was a privilege—one they weren’t willing to lose.

Panic flickered in their eyes. They had underestimated her.

And now, they realized—they’d messed with the wrong woman.