Chapter 364

Isabella was finally escorted home by Nathaniel, thanks to Julian's intervention.

Theodore pushed Reginald's wheelchair toward the parking lot, with Vanessa trailing behind him like an unwanted shadow.

"When are you going to stop following me?" Theodore suddenly stopped, his voice cold.

Vanessa nearly collided with him, stumbling awkwardly.

"I just want to help you take Grandpa Reginald home, Theo," she said with a pitiful expression. "He just got discharged. He'll need assistance—"

"Assistance? What can you do?" Theodore scoffed, cutting her off.

"I've seen how your mother and brother coddled you. You've never lifted a finger in your life. What help could you possibly offer?" His tone was merciless.

"Theo—"

"You know who Grandpa Reginald really wants." His eyes softened at the thought of Isabella. "Go back and focus on your own family."

With that, he wheeled Reginald away, leaving Vanessa flustered and humiliated.

On the drive home, their chauffeur took the wheel. Mr. Bennett sat in the passenger seat while Theodore and Reginald occupied the back.

The car was warm, but Reginald's icy expression made it feel like a freezer.

Theodore knew he was furious.

But the truth was, he and Isabella were divorced. Their irreconcilable differences were undeniable.

Theodore had fought for her, risked everything—yet it still wasn't enough to earn her trust.

He wasn't afraid of loving her unconditionally. What terrified him was that she had never truly trusted him.

When they arrived at Kingsley Manor, Theodore stepped out to help Mr. Bennett with the wheelchair, intending to assist Reginald.

"I don't need that damn thing. I'm not an invalid," Reginald snapped, shoving Theodore aside. "Mr. Bennett, fetch my cane."

Within moments, the cane was in his hand.

Reginald's lips pressed into a thin line. Without warning, he swung the cane hard against Theodore's back.

A sharp crack echoed. Theodore winced, his jaw tightening.

"Useless boy! What good are you? You might as well be dead!" Reginald roared, striking him again. "Isabella is a gem! You were finally making progress, and then you ruined it! Are you out of your mind?"

Theodore took the blows in silence, his handsome face shadowed with guilt under the moonlight.

"Are you blind? Can't you see how much that Chambers boy cares for her? How close they've become? How Julian wants her as his daughter-in-law?"

Reginald's voice trembled with rage. "Even if you're innocent, you should've fought for her! Proved your loyalty! Held onto her no matter what!"

Could he do that?

Could he stand by and watch her with Nathaniel without losing control?

"Grandpa, I said what I said. I did what I did." Theodore clenched his fists, his eyes glistening. "Hit me if you must. But when you're done, please... let Isabella and me go."

"Let go? So you can marry that Sterling girl?" Reginald nearly collapsed if not for Mr. Bennett's support.

"Do I have to remarry? One marriage was enough. I don't care about weddings. I don't even like kids."

The words twisted like a knife in his own chest.

He did like children. But if he couldn't have them with the woman he loved, they meant nothing.

He wouldn't promise to love them fully. That wouldn't be fair.

"Why should I let go of such a remarkable girl? Unless I'm dead, she'll always be part of this family—my future granddaughter!"

Reginald struck the ground with his cane. "To you, she might just be the woman you love. But to me? She's the child who saved my life! Two years ago, on Christmas Eve, if not for her—if she hadn't gotten me to the hospital in time—I wouldn't be here!"

Theodore's expression darkened. "I know, Grandpa. The car accident was severe. Without Isabella—"

"You only know she took me to the hospital. But do you know how badly she was hurt?"

Reginald's voice cracked, tears streaking his face. "I was unconscious. You were all overseas. Only Isabella and Mr. Bennett were there. She was covered in blood, but she made him swear not to tell us. She didn't want us to worry!"

Theodore's breath hitched.

The revelation felt like a blade twisting in his chest, shredding his heart.

Mr. Bennett lowered his gaze, sorrow etched into his features. The secret weighed heavily on him, but he was bound by professionalism—and Isabella's request.

"Grandpa, is this true?" Theodore's voice was hollow.

"Why would I lie now?"

Reginald's emotions overwhelmed him. He collapsed into his wheelchair. "What she sacrificed for you—what she endured—you can never repay her. Even if she spends a lifetime resenting you, you deserve it!"

With that, he wheeled himself away, leaving Theodore frozen in the chilling silence.

"Mr. Kingsley, let me help you inside," Mr. Bennett urged anxiously.

"No! I don't want to see anyone right now!"

The air turned frigid, suffocating Theodore.

"Mr. Bennett, as you can see, Grandpa doesn't want me here." Theodore swallowed hard, his voice rough. "I'll stay at a hotel nearby. If anything happens, call me immediately. I won't upset him further."

"Mr. Kingsley, wait!" Mr. Bennett called, unease in his eyes.

"What is it?"

"Is there really no hope for you and Ms. Sinclair?"

Theodore's chest ached. "I don't know."

"There are things about Ms. Sinclair you still don't know." Mr. Bennett clenched his fists, struggling.

Theodore turned slowly. "What things?"

"She made me promise never to tell." Mr. Bennett looked torn. "But I hope one day, she'll tell you herself."

The words ignited Theodore's curiosity.

Isabella had hidden her identity as the Sinclair heiress, married him, loved him for thirteen years—those secrets alone had shattered him.

What else was she keeping from him?

Could it be even more unbelievable?

Two days after the amputation, Byron finally woke.

Isabella arrived early that morning. She hadn't just performed the surgery and left—Julian had asked for her help, and she felt obligated to oversee Byron's recovery.

In the hospital room, Isabella and two attending physicians examined Byron's reattached left leg. His right had been replaced with a prosthetic.

"My leg..."

Byron's face was ghostly pale. "I'm ruined. My life is over."

"Byron, stay calm." Isabella's voice was steady behind her mask, only her striking eyes visible. "You saved one leg. That's more than many can say."

"Someone tried to kill me. Nathaniel tried to kill me!" Byron suddenly grabbed her wrist, his grip frantic.

Isabella stiffened, glancing at the other doctors.

Luckily, they were across the room and hadn't heard his slurred words.

She dismissed them, shut the door, and faced Byron. "You mentioned this under anesthesia. Do you have proof?"

Byron trembled violently, as if reliving a nightmare.

"After the crash, the driver died instantly. My secretary was still alive. I was trapped—but my legs weren't broken. I could move them."

Isabella's brow furrowed. "And then?"

"Then... a black car pulled up. A man got out—wearing a mask and cap. But I recognized his build, his eyes. It was Nathaniel."

Byron's pupils dilated with terror. "He walked over... had a metal rod. He killed my secretary right in front of me."

Isabella's pulse spiked.

"Then he raised the rod—and smashed my leg! I screamed... then everything went black."