One of the receptionists immediately softened her tone. "Ma'am, I apologize. My words were inappropriate. Could you please refrain from posting the video?"

The other receptionist, fearing for her job, quickly chimed in, "I'm truly sorry as well. Our behavior was unacceptable. While we can't allow you upstairs without an appointment, you're welcome to wait in the lobby."

Amy Sinclair wasn’t here to stir trouble. Seeing their genuine apologies, she lowered her phone and let the matter drop.

Time crawled by as the sky outside darkened into evening. Amy hadn’t eaten all day, unwilling to risk missing Alexander if she stepped away even for a moment.

She didn’t know how long she had been sitting there when the steady click of polished shoes against marble echoed through the lobby. Lifting her gaze, she recognized the approaching figure instantly.

Nathan Prescott spotted Amy sitting alone on the plush lobby couch and smirked. "Well, well—what do we have here?"

The receptionists straightened at his presence, their earlier resentment toward Amy carefully masked.

"Mr. Prescott, this woman claims to be here to see Mr. Blackwood, but she doesn’t have an appointment," one explained.

The other muttered under her breath, "She insists she’s Mrs. Blackwood, yet she can’t even get him on the phone..."

Nathan’s grin widened as he sauntered closer, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "Oh, Amy Sinclair—or should I say, Mrs. Blackwood? The illustrious wife of Alexander Blackwood, reduced to waiting like some desperate fan?"

Amy met his taunting gaze without flinching. The longer she remained silent, the more emboldened he became.

"Amy, I warned you before to stay away from Alex, but you just had to humiliate yourself, didn’t you?" He tsked, theatrically tapping his cheek. "Doesn’t it sting? Knowing he won’t even acknowledge you?"

Her eyes turned glacial. "Was it you who targeted Samantha?"

Nathan had been circling her and Samantha far too often, his intentions transparent—to provoke them. Samantha, already feeling wronged since Amy’s marriage, had been an easy target for his manipulations.

Nathan’s smirk turned smug. "Maybe it was. What are you going to do about it? Even if you were the one in trouble, Alex wouldn’t lift a finger against me."

A wicked gleam entered his eyes as he continued, "After I humiliated you last time, Alex didn’t cut ties with me. You know what that means, don’t you?"

Amy’s fingers curled slightly, but her expression remained unreadable.

Nathan turned to the receptionists with exaggerated courtesy. "Oh, I just dropped by unannounced today—no appointment. Do you think I can still see Alex?"

The receptionists immediately smiled. "Of course, Mr. Prescott. Given your relationship with Mr. Blackwood, an appointment isn’t necessary. Please, go right up."

Nathan shot Amy a disdainful look before addressing the receptionists pointedly. "Make sure you keep an eye out for gold-diggers trying to sneak their way in. We wouldn’t want any unwanted distractions reaching Alex, would we?"

The receptionists nodded eagerly. "Don’t worry, Mr. Prescott. We won’t let just anyone through."

Satisfied, Nathan strode toward the elevators, barely containing his glee. "Alex! You won’t believe who’s been rotting in the lobby—Amy!"