Chapter 330

The grimace on Harrison's face told Arabella she'd stumbled upon sacred ground in the Kingsley family history.

She knew better than to pry, but this involved Alexander. She couldn't help herself. "Grandfather, is there tension between Alexander and Dominic? Does it trace back to their childhood kidnapping?"

Harrison's eyes widened. "You know about the kidnapping?"

"I'm sorry, Grandfather. I didn't mean to overstep."

Arabella's throat tightened as she continued softly, "Alexander mentioned his older brother once. He said he'd tell me everything when the time was right. He didn't want to hide anything from me. At the time, I resisted knowing, but... I was curious."

Harrison listened, a smile softening his features as he noticed the faint blush on her cheeks. It was as if the shy girl from years past had returned, lifting the weight from his shoulders.

This was progress.

Arabella was no longer pushing Alexander away. She was even showing interest in him. Their relationship was evolving.

"Bella, if Alexander is willing to share his past with you, it means he trusts you completely. He's opening his heart to you."

Harrison exhaled heavily, the pain of the past still raw. "My grandsons were taken by a notorious criminal syndicate—drug traffickers, murderers, bank robbers. They specialized in kidnapping heirs from wealthy families."

"You mean the Moreau syndicate?"

Arabella had heard of them. Seraphina had mentioned them.

Moreau had once been a subordinate under Seraphina's father but broke away to build his own empire.

Back then, Moreau was ruthless. He taunted law enforcement, vowing to retire only after amassing ten billion. When he was arrested eighteen years ago, the nation celebrated. But Moreau showed no remorse. He smirked for the cameras.

Seraphina once said her father's greatest regret was not eliminating Moreau when he had the chance.

"Yes." Harrison sighed. "Despite our precautions, Moreau took my grandsons."

A chill ran down Arabella's spine. "What happened after?"

"They demanded two hundred million—one hundred per child. Back then, that sum was equivalent to a billion today. I didn't hesitate. Nothing mattered more than my grandsons. But Moreau was cunning. He kept changing the ransom drop location, toying with us. Alexander and Dominic were held for half a month. We couldn't involve the authorities."

Harrison lowered his gaze, shaking his head. "Eventually, Alexander escaped. He was only eleven. I never thought he'd make it out alive."

"Alone?" Arabella was stunned. "How could an eleven-year-old escape trained criminals? Did someone help him?"

"Yes. Dominic did."

Arabella inhaled sharply.

Dominic had been fifteen—taller, stronger. But still just a boy. Unarmed. Unprepared. How had he distracted the kidnappers long enough for Alexander to flee?

"Grandfather, how did Dominic escape?"

"We paid the ransom. Half a month later, Dominic was found naked outside Kingsley Manor." Harrison's face paled. "When he returned, he was barely alive. Covered in blood. Tortured. His health was ruined."

"Why?"

Harrison's lips trembled. "Dominic told us later—after helping Alexander escape, he enraged Moreau. Since they hadn't received the ransom yet, they couldn't kill him. So they made him suffer. Starved him. Beat him. Locked him in an airtight shipping container. By the time he reached the hospital, his organs were failing. We barely saved him. Even now, his immune system is weak. He often needs a wheelchair. We failed him."

Now, Arabella understood.

This was the source of Alexander's guilt—why Reginald treated him so harshly.

Alexander had escaped because of his brother's sacrifice. And Dominic had paid the price. Alexander had carried that burden ever since, enduring Reginald's cruelty as penance.

"Bella, don't mention this to Alexander. If he doesn't bring it up, pretend you don't know." Harrison's voice was heavy with worry.

Arabella smiled gently. "I understand, Grandfather."

"But Bella... do you think less of Alexander now? Do you see him as selfish for surviving when his brother didn't?"

A pang of sadness struck her. She moved closer, placing her warm hand over his aged one.

"Grandfather, I could never look down on him. If I did, I wouldn't have married him. He was just as much a victim. The only difference is that he had a brother willing to sacrifice for him—and the luck to return to you safely. I pity Dominic. But Alexander doesn't deserve scorn. I know he would have saved Dominic if he could. He's carried that guilt for years."

Harrison was deeply moved. He pulled her into a tight embrace. "Oh, Bella... with you beside him, I can rest easy. Even if I'm gone one day, I know he'll be in good hands."

Arabella's cheeks flushed. She patted his back gently, unable to find words.

After his medical check-up and IV drip, Alexander noticed night had fallen.

Nathaniel heard Seraphina's stomach growl. She was too shy to admit she was hungry, so he decided to leave.

"I should get home and cook for Seraphina," he said, pulling her close. They were inseparable.

Alexander nearly choked on his water. "Nathaniel, are you delirious? If you've got brain damage, have Arabella check you immediately. Don't keep my sister waiting."

Arabella smirked. "Decided to become a chef after years of debauchery? It's like a courtesan turning over a new leaf. Admirable."

"It's my first time cooking," Nathaniel admitted. He'd never stepped foot in a kitchen before.

"Nathaniel, don't push yourself," Seraphina said worriedly.

Arabella rolled her eyes. "If you want to poison yourself, fine. Just don't drag Seraphina into it."

Alexander kept his lips pursed. "If the oil catches fire, turn off the heat and cover the pan. Don't use water."

"I'll remember," Seraphina said obediently.

Nathaniel scowled. "I'm not an idiot! I know how to handle a kitchen!"

Before Arabella could retort, Nathaniel swept Seraphina into his arms and bolted.

Silence returned, thick with awkward tension.

Alexander hadn't showered since his injury. The room smelled faintly sour.

Yet even disheveled, he was devastatingly handsome.

Arabella cleared her throat. "Since we're alone, let's discuss something serious."

His voice was low. "You want to investigate the man who attacked Lady Margaret. Find out who he really was—and why he did it."

Her eyes gleamed. "Yes."

"Arabella, I'll handle this. Once I'm discharged."

"I can't wait." Her voice was steel. "Do you know how traumatized Margaret is? I've been too busy operating on you to investigate. But I will find who's responsible."

Alexander merely smiled. He knew she would.

"Arabella, revenge requires patience. The mastermind won't escape."

She bit her lip, emotions swirling.

There was another reason she needed answers—one she couldn't voice.

That man had nearly killed Alexander. If she hadn't been there...

The thought haunted her. She needed justice, or she'd explode.

"Alexander, even though you took the hit for Margaret and me, this involves the Sinclair family. Focus on recovering. Leave this to us."

"It's a Sinclair matter, but Arabella—I'm your husband." His voice was rough, gaze intense.

She stared, speechless.

"So I will help you."

"Enough. I'm leaving."

She couldn't stand his nonsense any longer.

"Arabella! Don't go!"

Desperate, Alexander sat up abruptly—then dizziness struck. Nausea overwhelmed him.

Just as he swayed, the scent of roses filled his senses.

Strong arms caught him.

"Alexander."

Emotion choked him. He pulled her close, burying his face in her hair, inhaling her scent like a man starved.

Before, she'd been within reach.

Now, she felt miles away. Regret consumed him.

Arabella struggled to breathe in his crushing embrace.

How could a man fresh from brain surgery be so strong?

"Alexander."

She shoved against his shoulders, but he was immovable—like forged steel.

"Get off. You reek."