Chapter 122

Nathaniel paced outside the Windsor Estates, his anxiety palpable.

When he spotted Isabella stepping out with a suitcase, he rushed to assist her.

"Isabella, did Alexander give you any trouble?"

"If he dared, I'd have made sure he regretted it," Isabella retorted sharply.

Nathaniel noticed her bare feet and frowned. "Your shoes?"

"I left in a hurry and forgot to change."

Truthfully, there were several pairs of her designer heels by the entrance—she could've easily slipped into any of them before leaving.

But she refused.

She refused to give in to Alexander or the past three years.

Those shoes belonged to Evelyn, neatly arranged as if waiting for anyone to claim them.

Isabella's footwear was exclusively high-end stilettos. She wouldn't be caught dead wearing Evelyn's old shoes, nor would she ever reminisce about that time.

"Take me to The Regal Palace."

The Bugatti's engine roared to life, and Isabella was gone.

Upstairs in the estate, Alexander stood by the window, his gaze fixed on the direction she'd left, his chest tight with regret.

Back at the hotel, Isabella remained silent as she and Nathaniel rode the elevator to the executive offices.

The moment they stepped into the hallway, they were startled by Dominic's sudden appearance.

"Dominic? What are you doing here?" Isabella approached him, eyebrows raised.

"I took the stairs," Dominic replied with a smirk.

His forehead glistened with sweat, his muscular arms holding his suit jacket. His shirt was unbuttoned just enough to reveal his collarbone and a hint of his toned chest.

Nathaniel scowled internally. Who does this playboy think he is? Flexing his muscles like that'll impress her?

Dominic, as if reading his mind, deliberately loosened another button and shot Nathaniel a smug grin.

"How did security let you up without an appointment or my approval?" Isabella snapped.

Dominic blinked, taken aback. He'd meant to surprise her, but it seemed he'd only managed to irritate her.

"I'll handle it," Nathaniel said coldly, glaring at Dominic.

"No need. I snuck in."

Dominic quickly switched to a charming smile, gripping Isabella's arm. "They wouldn't let me see you. I had no choice. Don't blame them—blame me!"

"Deduct the executive secretary's salary for this month. Find out who was on security duty today, pay them off, and fire them."

Isabella issued the command without hesitation, yanking her arm free before striding toward her office.

"Yes, ma'am." Nathaniel smirked as Dominic was left standing there, looking like a scolded puppy.

"Isabella!" Dominic scrambled after her, desperate. "I messed up. I'll make it right. Just tell me what you want—anything!"

"Dominic." She turned, her gaze icy. "Come inside. We need to talk."

Dominic's eyes lit up, thinking he'd been granted a reprieve, and eagerly followed her into the office.

Nathaniel was left outside, relegated to guard duty.

The moment the door closed, Isabella took a seat on the sofa, crossing her long legs. One hand rested on the armrest, the other draped casually over her knee. Every inch of her exuded the commanding presence of the Sinclair heiress.

Dominic swallowed hard, utterly captivated.

He loved this version of her—powerful, untouchable.

"I knew you wouldn't summon me for nothing," he purred, moving closer.

But her voice cut through the air like a blade.

"Dominic, did you think I was joking with you before?"

He froze.

"Evelyn might've tolerated your antics because you helped her once. But I, Isabella Sinclair, don't have that kind of patience."

Her stare was frigid, as if they'd never met.

He took another step forward, but her sharp glare stopped him in his tracks.

"Even though you're the Sinclair heiress now, you were still Evelyn once! Just because you changed your name doesn't erase everything!"

"The moment Alexander and I signed those divorce papers, Evelyn ceased to exist." Her lips curled into a cold smile. "Neither you nor Alexander have any place in my life now. Mr. Vanderbilt, you're engaged. Act like it. Don't throw away an entire garden for one flower—especially when that flower was never yours to begin with."

"Tell me what I did wrong. I'll fix it!" His voice cracked with desperation.

16:50

"And one more thing." Her tone turned glacial. "I know what you did to Seraphina at Mr. Lockwood's birthday party."

Dominic paled, his pulse skyrocketing as the memory flashed through his mind.

The secluded woods. His hands gripping her bare shoulders, her white dress slipping. The way her lips had felt against his—

If only she weren't Alexander's sister. If only his heart hadn't already belonged to someone else.

He never had much self-control. And when she offered herself, how could he resist?

"Your reckless behavior is your own business. But Seraphina is my sister—innocent, naive. I won't let anyone hurt her."

"No, Isabella, you've got it all wrong!" Dominic's shirt clung to him, drenched in sweat. "That night, something happened to her. I was just—just—"

"Just playing the hero?"

He clenched his jaw, realizing how flimsy it sounded.

"You should've reported it to the Lockwoods immediately. Who gave you the right to intervene?"

Her laugh was mocking. "Mr. Vanderbilt, can't even own up to your mistakes?"

"I was framed! She kissed me first! I didn't do anything!" His voice was raw with frustration.

Isabella waved a dismissive hand. "Dominic, Seraphina isn't part of your world. She's fragile. You have plenty of women—don't drag her into your mess."

Dominic felt the fight drain out of him. No matter what he said, she'd already labeled him a villain.

And maybe he was. But he hated that she saw him that way.

"I have work to do. Leave. And if you show up unannounced again, security will escort you out. Nathaniel, see him out."

"Isabella!" He lunged forward, desperate for one last chance.

A sharp click echoed through the room.

The cold edge of a butterfly knife pressed against his throat.