Chapter 29

The Tailor's Dilemma

Sebastian Blackwood's imposing frame filled the tailor shop doorway like a storm rolling in.

The tailor glanced up from pressing a waistcoat, his eyes widening at the unexpected visitor. "Mr. Blackwood?"

"I need your help," Sebastian said urgently, placing a damaged garment box on the counter. "Name your price."

The tailor gasped as he lifted the lid. "Good heavens! What happened to this masterpiece?" His fingers trembled over the ruined fabric.

Sebastian's jaw tightened. "My fault."

"This was hand-stitched by the young miss herself," the tailor murmured, shaking his head. "She spent weeks perfecting every seam. Such a waste..."

"Can it be fixed?" Sebastian demanded.

"Impossible. The inner lining and outer fabric are both shredded. Even if I mend it, the scars will remain."

Sebastian's chest constricted. "Do what you can. Just make it wearable again."

The moment Sebastian returned to Kingsley Manor, tension thickened the air.

"Sebastian!" His half-sister Lillian rushed to him, wringing her hands. "Grandfather's here. He and Father are shouting in the study. You have to stop them!"

Sebastian frowned. "Over what?"

In public, Reginald Kingsley played the perfect heir—charming, obedient. For him to risk upsetting their ailing grandfather meant only one thing: Arabella Sinclair was involved again.

"Father wants to bail out the Sinclair Group," Lillian hissed. "But Grandfather refuses. It's absurd! Helping the Sinclairs helps us too, doesn't it? You're marrying Arabella soon—if this falls through, our family will be the laughingstock of New York!"

Sebastian's expression darkened as he took the stairs two at a time.

Upstairs, chaos reigned.

William Kingsley, wheelchair-bound at eighty, hurled a crystal paperweight at his son. "I told you to stay out of Sinclair affairs! Yet you're funneling our contracts to them? Have you lost your mind?"

Reginald shielded his weeping wife. "Father, please—"

"Don't 'Father' me! That woman has addled your brain since the day you married her!" William's face purpled with rage.

Arabella dabbed her eyes with a lace handkerchief. "I've devoted twenty years to this family. Never caused trouble, never asked for anything—"

"Because you got everything without asking!" William sneered. "Your sister's no honest businesswoman. She's a con artist reaping what she sowed!"

Arabella's tears froze mid-track.

Reginald intervened, voice strained. "This isn't just about Arabella. The Vanderbilts stole our Aetheria deal. Cassius Ashbourne sabotaged us abroad—"

Sebastian stiffened.

Cassius Ashbourne?

That was impossible.

He'd seen Cassius at the hospital hours ago.

Unless...

The man in the hospital wasn't Cassius at all.

But then—who was he?