Chapter 435

The dim light cast shadows across Isabella's face, accentuating the sharp angles of her cheekbones.

Once, she might have believed Nathan truly cared for her father. Now, all she sensed was deception.

If he could harm her sister and brother without hesitation, her father meant nothing to him.

Nathan had always been ruthless.

Only his obsession with her held him back—for now. Until he had her, until his hunger was satisfied, he wouldn’t dare lay a hand on her.

"My father is fine," Isabella said coolly, a frosty smile playing on her lips. "He’s as healthy as ever. Probably just ate something that disagreed with him. Nothing serious. You can leave."

"Are you sure?" Nathan’s brow furrowed in concern. "He looked terrible earlier. Pale, clutching his head—could it be something worse? A stroke, perhaps?"

"Are you wishing illness on my father, Nathan?"

Isabella’s voice cut through the air like a blade, her eyes flashing with fury. "Or are you just fishing for information about the Sinclair family?"

"Isabella, no. You’ve got it all wrong."

His eyes darkened with distress as he stepped forward, seizing her wrist. "I’m just worried about him. And I wanted to see you."

She recoiled as if burned, wrenching her arm free and putting distance between them.

"But I don’t want to see you."

"Isabella, what’s happened to you?"

Nathan’s lips trembled, his voice raw with desperation. He moved to close the gap again, but her icy glare stopped him cold. "Tell me what’s wrong. Please. Don’t shut me out like this."

So convincing. Isabella’s nails dug into her palms. Those eyes—so full of false innocence.

"You want to know? Fine." She took a sharp breath, her words dripping with venom. "You know Ethan, don’t you? He’s yours, isn’t he?"

"Ethan?" Nathan blinked, feigning confusion. "Who’s that?"

But beneath his tailored suit, tension coiled like a serpent.

He’d thought he’d buried every trace. Even if Isabella had suspicions—even if she’d connected him to his dealings in Helgen, his ties to Country T’s officials—she had no proof.

Without catching Ethan red-handed, she couldn’t pin anything on him.

Yet here she was, confronting him outright. Had she truly lost all faith in him?

"You’ve built an empire in Helgen," she said, crossing her arms. "You have connections everywhere—high-ranking officials, military leaders. Ethan is a lieutenant colonel in Country T’s army, and he started in Helgen. Are you seriously telling me you don’t know him?"

Her mocking laugh was beautiful enough to steal his breath.

"Isabella, I have some influence, but you’re giving me too much credit." Nathan’s voice cracked with urgency. "But if this Ethan has hurt you, I swear—I’ll destroy him for you."

She scoffed. "Of course you would. You’d want him dead more than anyone. He’s a loose end—one that could expose everything you’ve done."

"Isabella, how can you think that of me?"

Tears welled in Nathan’s eyes, his lips pale from biting them.

He played the wounded martyr perfectly, so lost in the role he forgot he was the one who’d brought danger to her doorstep.

Isabella just watched him, her expression unreadable.

"What happened?" Nathan pressed, desperation bleeding into his voice. "Tell me what I’ve done to make you doubt me. At least let me explain!"

She knew she wouldn’t get the truth. This was a warning—pressure him into slipping up. And a brutal reminder: whatever they’d had was over.

"Fine. You won’t admit to Ethan. Then what about my sister Diana and her husband?" Her voice shook with rage. "How did you exploit them in Helgen? Will you deny that too?"

"Nathan, some people in my company did cross lines with your brother-in-law," he admitted hoarsely. "But when I found out Diana was your sister, I stopped it immediately. The problem is, the company isn’t just mine. Other shareholders fought me every step of the way. I tried to protect them, but I couldn’t control everything."

His eyes burned with sincerity. "Isabella, I’ve loved you for fifteen years. How could I ever want to hurt your family?"

She stared at him, silence stretching between them like a chasm.

Finally, she turned away. "Leave. Now."

As she walked off, Nathan grabbed her from behind, pulling her against him. "Isabella, don’t go—"

"Let go of me!"

A shudder ran down her spine. She fought free like a cornered animal, her glare sharp enough to draw blood.

Nathan stumbled back, his face ashen.

"I’m with someone, Nathan. Even if I weren’t, you have no right to touch me." Her rejection was absolute.

"Your boyfriend? Alexander?" His voice shattered. "You’re back together?"

"Why wouldn’t I be?" Her throat tightened as she remembered Alexander’s battered body, the wounds he’d taken for her. "He nearly died avenging me in Country T. A man who loves me like that—how could I not want him?"

She turned, her voice steel. "Leave. I will uncover the truth about Ethan. And if you’re behind it, Nathan, you know what I’ll do. I don’t care who you are."

As she walked away, Nathan’s voice cracked behind her.

"Isabella... my mother is sick. Very sick."

She froze but didn’t look back.

"Late-stage Alzheimer’s. She barely recognizes me now. Can’t even feed herself. Her limbs are failing." His voice broke. "I’ve been at the hospital night and day. The only reason I’ve left at all is for you."

A tear slipped down his cheek. "She asks for you constantly. Even now, in her haze, she remembers you. Please... just see her once. It might help."

Isabella stood rigid, her back to him.

Just as she stepped toward the door, it opened.

"Sophia?" Isabella blinked at her stepmother’s sudden appearance.

Sophia gave her a gentle smile before turning to Nathan, her expression stern. "Mr. Prescott, my husband would like to speak with you. Please, come inside."

"What?" Isabella hissed. "He’s still recovering. What is he thinking?"

Sophia sighed. "I’m just relaying his request."

Nathan adjusted his glasses, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Thank you, Mrs. Sinclair."

Inside the study—a space reserved only for William’s closest confidants—Nathan stood before the patriarch, his posture impeccable.

Isabella sank onto the living room sofa, her mind racing.

"Your father has been meeting with Nathan frequently," Sophia murmured, taking her hand. "And with Jeffrey, too. I think... he’s serious about this."

"About what?"

"About marrying you into the Prescott family."

Isabella’s laugh was bitter. "Over my dead body."

"Don’t say such things!" Sophia scolded. "We won’t let him force you into a marriage you don’t want. Your brothers, your sisters—we’ll all stand with you."

"This isn’t about an alliance," Isabella said quietly. "It’s about keeping me away from Alexander. He’ll do anything to tear us apart."

She closed her eyes. "And I know exactly where he gets that stubbornness from."

Sophia squeezed her hand. "Out of all his children, you are the most like him."

A vibration in her pocket made Isabella start.

Her heart leapt at Alexander’s name on the screen.

"I’ll give you privacy." Sophia stood gracefully.

Isabella answered, her pulse racing.

"Can’t sleep?" Alexander’s voice was warm velvet, sending shivers down her spine.

"Not tired," she lied, stepping onto the balcony. The moon hung heavy in the sky.

"Missing me, then?" His chuckle was unfairly attractive.

"Please. I don’t need a man to sleep." Her cheeks burned.

"But I need you," he murmured. "You’re my everything."

The words sent heat flooding through her.

She missed him. God, she missed him.

"What did you do today?" She changed the subject.

"Breathed. Thought about you. Repeat."

"Alexander, flattery is nice, but tone it down." She rubbed her arms, goosebumps rising.

His tone shifted. "My contact in City R reached out."

"The maid Elspeth bribed to swap your mother’s medication?" Isabella’s mind raced.

"Found her in a small town. Her life’s fallen apart—husband gambled everything away, son’s in jail. Karma’s a bitch."

"She deserves worse," Isabella spat. "A life for a life."

"First, I need her alive," Alexander said darkly. "If Elspeth finds out, she’ll silence her permanently."

Isabella nodded. "How’s your father?"

"Fine. Everyone’s fine." She forced lightness into her voice.

"Isabella." His concern was palpable. "You’re hiding something."

"Nothing important." She exhaled. "Rest. I’ll see you soon."

His voice wrapped around her like a blanket. "I’ll always wait for you."

As they whispered sweet nothings, Nathan watched from the shadows, his jaw clenched.

Soon, Isabella. You’ll be mine—and only mine.