Chapter 256

The afternoon sun cast long shadows as Isabella Sinclair swapped her usual limousine for an unassuming sedan. Daniel Carter rode shotgun, his gaze flickering between the winding road and the woman beside him.

Thirteen years ago, she'd nearly died in these very mountains searching for her mother's lost belongings.

Most would've been traumatized.

But not Isabella.

She wasn't the type to admit defeat—not even to herself.

Instead of developing a fear of nature, she'd made it a ritual to return every year with Professor Henri Delacroix, patrolling the forest, rescuing stranded hikers.

At first, the seasoned rangers had scoffed at the idea of this delicate-looking woman keeping up. They'd even placed bets on how quickly she'd quit.

She proved them all wrong.

No challenge was too harsh, no terrain too brutal. Her determination outmatched even the toughest men.

Daniel watched her in the rearview mirror—dressed in full mountaineering gear, face bare of makeup.

Stripped of her usual elegance, she looked every bit the warrior, radiating quiet strength.

"Ms. Sinclair, climbing alone is dangerous. Let me come with you," Daniel urged, concern tightening his voice.

Isabella cracked one eye open. "Do you own climbing gear? Know safety protocols? Have any actual experience?"

"I've surfed big waves! Scuba dived!" He grinned, eager to impress.

She clicked her tongue. "Changing the subject?"

Daniel flushed. "Wouldn't dream of arguing with you."

"And if we run into trouble? You'll dive into a lake?" She smirked. "Not a bad plan. You're pretty enough—maybe a mermaid will kidnap you as her groom."

He laughed, absurdly pleased by the backhanded compliment.

The car rolled to a stop at the forest's edge. Ahead, Misty Mountain loomed—jagged peaks wreathed in shifting fog.

Daniel gulped. "That's... steep."

"Eloquent." Isabella rolled her eyes. "It's rugged. The kind of mountain that demands respect."

Before he could respond, a voice called out.

"Isabella!"

Her heart leapt. Professor Henri approached, flanked by Captain Nathaniel Whitmore.

The sight of him hit like a punch to the chest.

Illness had whittled the once-vibrant man to a shadow. His cheeks were hollow, his frame frail.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and rushed forward, wrapping him in a fierce hug.

"You're looking well," she lied smoothly.

"Never better!" Henri beamed.

Captain Nathaniel looked away, jaw tight.

Isabella inhaled sharply. She knew the symptoms—the nausea, the pain, the slow erosion of dignity.

Her eyes flicked to Daniel. A nearly imperceptible nod passed between them. The specialist is arranged.

Henri studied Daniel curiously.

"My cousin," Isabella supplied breezily. The rangers lived far from society's buzz; they'd never connect her to the Sinclair dynasty.

"Your family breeds beauty, Ms. Sinclair!" Nathaniel chuckled.

Daniel preened.

Henri's smile faded. "You shouldn't climb today. The weather—"

"Since when do I back down?" She thumped her chest. "I earned that 'Mountain Goddess' title, didn't I?"

Henri laughed. "We've got two deities here! How blessed we are."

Isabella arched a brow. "Who's the impostor?"

"Alexander Kingsley," Nathaniel announced, eyes shining. "CEO of Vanderbilt Group. Found out his identity years late—man climbs like a pro. Saved two hikers during a storm, used his private chopper for evacuation. They call him the Mountain God."

One mountain, two gods?

Isabella's lips thinned. Memories surged—Alexander pulling her from the abyss thirteen years ago.

They'd both returned every year since.

Patrolled the same trails.

Saved lives.

Donated generously.

Yet never crossed paths.

Fate's a cruel jester.

She forced a grin. "How... noble of him."

Henri nudged her. "I'd hoped to introduce you two. You'd get along famously."

"Social anxiety," she deadpanned.

After shooing Daniel away, Isabella followed Henri and Nathaniel toward the basecamp, lost in thought.

Why did Alexander haunt her even here?

Their footsteps crunched on gravel when frantic shouts erupted.

"Professor! Distress call—three hikers separated on the summit! Two made it back; one's still up there!"

Henri moved instantly. "I'll lead the team."

"The weather's turning—" Nathaniel protested.

"I'm fine!"

Isabella stepped forward. "Let me go. I've field medic training—can stabilize the victim if needed."

Nathaniel's eyes widened with newfound respect.

Henri squeezed her hand. "Bring them home safe."

Meanwhile, Alexander Kingsley's SUV rolled through the park gates.

Dressed in tactical gear, he looked less like a CEO and more like a special forces operative.

"Henri!" He clasped the professor's bony shoulders. "You shouldn't be out here."

Henri chuckled. "Says the workaholic who flew in between board meetings."

Alexander's gaze darkened. "I've set up a conservation fund under my assistant's name. The donations won't stop, even if..."

"Enough gloom!" Henri swatted him. "Today's special—both my favorite protégés are here!"

Alexander stilled. "Who else visited?"

"A remarkable young woman. Like you, she volunteers here annually. Donates. Saves lives."

Normally, Alexander would've tuned out. But something in Henri's tone snagged his attention.

"I'd like to meet her."

"Ah, bad timing—she's on the mountain now for the rescue!"

Henri sighed. "Isabella would've liked you."

Isabella.

The name detonated in Alexander's chest.

His pulse roared. Every nerve lit up as if electrocuted.

Gripping Henri's arm, he rasped, "Her surname—is it Sinclair?"

Henri blinked. "You know her?"

Thirteen years of near-misses.

Of parallel lives.

Of almosts.

Alexander's voice dropped to a whisper.

"Tell me everything."