Chapter 448

"It's me. Isabella, it's me." Nathaniel's voice was rough with emotion, his arms tightening around her trembling form as if she might vanish into thin air if he loosened his grip for even a second. His heart shattered at the sight of her pain. "Isabella, tell me where it hurts. Please, just tell me!"

"Storm!"

The moment her thoughts cleared, Isabella's first concern was for the injured horse. She struggled free from Nathaniel's embrace, scrambling toward Storm, who lay on the ground, gasping for breath.

"Isabella! Come back!"

Nathaniel's desperate cry echoed behind her, his chest constricting as he followed.

Medics, Sebastian, and Mr. Langley had arrived, but none could stop Isabella, her eyes burning with fierce determination.

Below, the crowd gaped in shock at the sight of Nathaniel—normally so composed—racing onto the track to hold a frantic Isabella. "Good God, is that really Nathaniel Kingsley? I've never seen him like this!"

"Who knew the unshakable Nathaniel could be brought to his knees like this? Only Isabella has that power."

"Ugh, I'm so jealous! I wish he'd hold me like that!"

"But seriously, if he loves her this much, why did they divorce in the first place?"

"Wait—do you think Victoria and Arabella plotted against him, making Isabella misunderstand? Now that the truth's out, are they getting back together?"

The whispers swirled like a storm, but one thing was undeniable—Nathaniel's love for Isabella ran deep, thawing like spring waters, flowing unrestrained toward the only woman who had ever truly held his heart.

"Hey, this was your doing, wasn't it?" Giselle murmured slyly to Edith.

Edith's eyes burned with venom as she glared at Isabella, now being cradled protectively by Nathaniel. "What nonsense are you spouting? She brought this on herself! It has nothing to do with me!"

"You think your little scheme might backfire?" Giselle smirked. "Not only is Isabella unharmed, but now the whole world has seen how much Nathaniel adores her. Thanks to you, they might be even more inseparable."

"Shut your mouth!"

Edith's icy gaze locked onto Giselle, her cheeks flushed with fury. "Mock me again, and I'll make sure you fall harder than Isabella did. Don't test me. The Fairhavens don't play fair."

Giselle clenched her jaw, but fear prickled down her spine.

Her standing in the family had crumbled—unwanted, ignored. But Edith? She was the Fairhaven heiress, Barry's beloved granddaughter. Crossing her would be a fatal mistake.

"Isabella! Stop. We need to get you to the hospital!" Sebastian's voice cracked with urgency, but even he and Nathaniel—two powerful men—were helpless against her stubborn will.

"I'm a surgeon. I know my own body better than any of you!"

Ignoring the pain, Isabella knelt beside Storm, her tears falling freely as she gently touched his weakening form. "Storm, why did you push yourself like this? I told you to stop! Why didn't you listen?"

Nathaniel stood rigid beside her, watching as she fretted over the horse, his own heart aching. Her kindness ran bone-deep, and he loved her fiercely for it.

The horse trainer arrived swiftly, examining Storm alongside Isabella.

Soon, they found the problem—a long, narrow gash sliced into Storm's left leg, hidden beneath his dark fur.

One look confirmed it—sabotage.

Normally, such a wound could be treated, but after a brutal race, the injury had worsened, pus mixing with blood, flesh torn to the bone. The situation was dire.

"Explain this to me!" Isabella's voice trembled with barely contained rage.

"Ms. Sinclair, I swear I didn't know! Storm was fine before the race—I checked him myself!" The trainer was near tears, horrified. "How did this happen?"

"Isabella, Gene's been with us for years. He's meticulous. If someone targeted Storm, we wouldn't have seen it coming," Sebastian said, his voice steadying.

Isabella took a shuddering breath, her body shaking with fury.

Nathaniel knelt behind her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest. "Isabella, someone slipped into the stables and cut Storm before the race. Leave it to me. I'll find who did this."

Her heart swelled. He wasn't doing this for her—he was doing it for Storm.

That meant everything.

"The culprit knows horses," Isabella said coldly. "This cut was precise—too shallow, and it wouldn't have done damage. Too deep, and I'd have noticed before the race."

"But the track is full of horse enthusiasts. Where do we start?" Mr. Langley frowned.

"Two motives," Nathaniel said darkly. "One—hurt Isabella. So we look at her enemies. Two—sabotage the Sinclair horse to secure a win."

His hand rested protectively on Isabella's back, his gaze chilling.

The suspects? All here.

At that moment, Adrian arrived in a rush, followed by Harvey and Elmsworth's top medics.

"Gene, Mr. Lyle—make sure Storm is comfortable. I'm operating on him myself," Isabella said, standing with Nathaniel's help. "And I need a brace for my waist. That's all."

"After this, I'm taking care of you," Nathaniel murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

They walked past Adrian without a glance, as if he were invisible. The snub cut deeper than any blade.

"Isabella! Isabella!"

No matter how Adrian called, she never looked back.

"Mr. Chambers, it's clear Isabella doesn't want you," Sebastian said coldly as he passed. "The man she needs has always been Nathaniel. With him, she needs no one else."

Adrian's face drained of color.

In the infirmary, Isabella undressed, revealing bruises in violent shades across her skin.

Nathaniel's breath hitched, his fists clenching and unclenching.

"Hurry. We have work to do," she said softly.

Gritting his teeth, he secured the brace around her waist, bandaging her wounds in silence.

When he finished, he couldn't hold back—he pulled her into his arms from behind.

"Hey," she muttered, annoyed but not pushing him away.

Tears burned his eyes, falling onto her skin.

After a moment, Nathaniel's voice was raw. "Whoever dares touch the woman I love is a dead man."

Isabella scoffed, but her fingers gently brushed through his hair. "I know you're angry. So am I."

Tension thickened the air.

Though the K Group's horse had won, the tragedy made business discussions inappropriate.

After handling Isabella's affairs, Sebastian returned, his expression grim. Before Emeric and Myra could speak, Preston rushed forward. "President Sinclair, how is Ms. Sinclair? Is she badly hurt?"

"Thank you for your concern. My sister will recover. Nathaniel is with her now," Sebastian said, his smile not reaching his eyes.

Hearing Nathaniel's name, Preston's face darkened.

"Thank God," William murmured, crossing himself.

Emeric, pale-faced, stood with Myra's support, desperate to see his daughter.

Suddenly, Gregory frowned. "What about the horse? How is it?"

Silence fell.

"Mr. Fairhaven, I've heard Storm is in critical condition. The Sinclairs' trainers missed the injury. The horse barely finished the race before collapsing. A tragedy," the secretary said smoothly.

"And the leg?" Edith asked, feigning concern.

"Shattered. They'll likely euthanize it."

"Oh, how awful!" Edith gasped, crocodile tears in her eyes—though beneath her hand, she smirked.

"Euthanize? Storm isn't terminally ill!" Myra protested.

"Myra, you don't understand," Gregory said, playing the expert. "The injury is too severe. Even if they amputate, survival is unlikely. And a champion like Storm? A life without racing is worse than death."

"Humane? Killing instead of healing—that's your idea of mercy?" Jareth's voice was ice.

Edith, ever the actress, burst into tears. "Isabella knows horses. She should've felt Storm's injury when she mounted him, right?"

"Good God! If that's true, Ms. Sinclair is heartless!" Giselle seized the moment. "Sacrificing an innocent life for a trophy? Disgusting! Mr. Morris, can you condone this?"

William's brow furrowed.

"Gregory, for someone who barely rides, you're suddenly an expert," came a cold voice.

Everyone turned.

Isabella stood there, shoulder-to-shoulder with Nathaniel, her smile chilling.