Chapter 452

The scene unfolded like a meticulously crafted stage play, every moment rehearsed to perfection.

Just as the scandalous footage of Isabella Sinclair overdosing in the lounge was leaked, the police descended upon her like vultures, swooping in for the arrest.

The massive screen cut to the live feed at that exact moment. Isabella's face was a twisted mask of hysteria and despair as she lost control of her bladder, being dragged away by officers. Her most humiliating moment was broadcast in high-definition close-up for the entire world to see.

Back in her modeling days, she had seethed with jealousy over Evelyn Prescott, the lead actress who always got the dramatic close-ups, whose face was unforgettable. She had longed for that kind of attention. Now, she had it—but her infamous meltdown would be the scandal of the decade, her name forever etched in tabloid history.

"Good grief. Did Isabella just wet herself? The high-and-mighty socialite reduced to that by a few cops? Hilarious! Talk about a spectacular downfall!"

"Are you blind? That's not fear—that's the drugs talking!"

"Trust me, this isn't her first run-in with the law. With the Sinclair Holdings backing her, even if she gets arrested, they won't just sit back. What's she got to be afraid of? I bet she just couldn't hold it in! How mortifying—I'd rather die than live through that embarrassment!"

As the officers hauled Isabella away, she trembled violently, urine still dripping shamefully onto the floor.

Nathaniel, save me. I'm innocent. I've been set up! Nathaniel!

Nathaniel Sinclair, staring at the disgraceful puddle and Isabella's pitiful state, was too stunned to speak. His wife kept redefining the limits of his humiliation.

"Mr. Nathaniel Sinclair, I tried to cut the feed, but the Vanderbilt family blocked our tech team from the control room. This whole thing—including the police—was a setup," Preston whispered urgently to Nathaniel.

"Set up by who?" Nathaniel demanded, his voice tight with fury.

"I'm still investigating, but I'll find out."

Nathaniel's mind reeled, but amidst the chaos, a memory from over two decades ago surfaced.

At Vogue Paris's anniversary gala, Evelyn had suffered the same public disgrace, broadcast live to the world! As a VIP guest, he and Alexander had witnessed the entire spectacle.

Evelyn's downfall due to the "substance abuse scandal" was common knowledge. Rumors claimed she had spiraled into severe depression, with multiple suicide attempts. Only Alexander's unwavering support and overseas treatment had pulled her back from the brink.

Now, Isabella's nightmare played out before the crowd, and Nathaniel couldn't shake the feeling this was a meticulously planned revenge. His furious gaze instinctively locked onto Arabella.

Coincidentally, Arabella and Sebastian were exchanging tender glances, their smiles triumphant. Her cunning, beautiful eyes and barely concealed smirk of victory felt like a slap to his face, an unforgivable insult.

"Your timing was impeccable," Arabella murmured, nudging Sebastian with her shoulder.

His heart melted at her touch, and he gazed at her warmly. "All thanks to your brilliant planning."

Arabella blushed at his praise, her cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink.

"If it weren't for the groundwork you laid, this arrest wouldn't have been such a spectacle. You did all the heavy lifting—I just provided the final push," Sebastian said, his eyes softening with affection. He was already thinking of ways to properly thank her.

Tonight, he'd make sure she felt his gratitude in every possible way. No—he'd spend a lifetime cherishing her.

"But I heard the cops arrested her on drug charges," Arabella said, puzzled.

Sebastian's gaze darkened. "We'll discuss the details at home. I'll explain everything."

Isabella's arrest had caught everyone off guard—except the young couple. Even Oliver was stunned, shooting his sister an incredulous look, to which Arabella responded with a playful wink.

Alexander wrapped his arms around Evelyn, who was trembling slightly. "Are you okay?" he asked softly. Though Isabella's downfall was satisfying, he worried it might trigger painful memories.

"Alexander, I'm stronger than you think. And I've waited far too long for this day," Evelyn said, stepping away to approach Arabella, her eyes brimming with gratitude.

"Arabella, thank you."

Arabella blinked innocently. "For what? I didn't do anything."

"I understand. I know." Evelyn's voice trembled as she grasped Arabella's hand tightly. "I'll never be able to repay you. But as long as I live, I'll try."

"This is karma—Isabella got exactly what she deserved. Don't worry, Evelyn. Just get some rest tonight, take Natalie on a trip, and I'll keep you updated. Something tells me this is just the beginning. Isabella's bad luck is far from over," Arabella said cryptically.

From the shadows, Adrian watched with a calculating gaze, adjusting his glasses.

"What do you make of this?"

Harvey's eyes flickered thoughtfully. "I'd bet it's a trap set by Ms. Sinclair and Sebastian. They have a deep grudge against Isabella—they'd want her to suffer."

"How's Ethan doing?" Adrian abruptly changed the subject.

"Our men have been watching him closely. He's still in New York."

Adrian smirked, curling his fingers until his knuckles turned white. "I think it's time we get him out of New York."

Harvey was taken aback. "But Ethan made outrageous demands—money, a private jet. You said to keep him on standby. Why the sudden change?"

"Give him whatever he wants. Just make sure he leaves," Adrian said coldly.

Harvey's eyes widened in realization, and he nodded grimly. "Understood, Mr. Vanderbilt."

As the racetrack's massive screen went dark, the excited murmurs of the crowd didn't fade.

Barry, seizing the moment, exchanged a glance with Gary.

Gary slipped away unnoticed, approaching William and his son with a charming smile. "Mr. William Morris, Mr. Ford Morris, you've come all this way—the Fairhaven family would be honored to host you. With this mess unfolding, I doubt Mr. Jeff Vanderbilt or Mr. Nathaniel Sinclair will be available. Why not join us for some refreshments?"

William hesitated, but before he could respond, Sebastian's sharp voice cut through the noise like a blade.

"Mr. Barry Fairhaven, Mr. Gary Fairhaven—planning to slink away like cowards? The mighty Fairhaven Group, so revered, reduced to fleeing at the first sign of trouble."

"Cowards? Sebastian, who the hell are you calling that?" Gary roared, his face flushing crimson.

The crowd gasped. Evelyn reprimanding Isabella was one thing—she had it coming, and as a powerhouse on par with Nathaniel, she could say whatever she pleased.

But Sebastian, a mere junior, daring to insult the Fairhavens? Did he not fear retaliation?

Arabella's heart raced as she locked eyes with Sebastian. She had already decided—even if he offended every elite in New York, she would stand by him.

With her backing, let's see who dared touch him.

Barry, trembling with rage, slammed his cane on the ground. "Mr. Nathaniel Sinclair! Control your son! Are you going to let him disrespect his elders like this?"

Sebastian, exuding an aura of icy authority, smirked. "Elders deserve respect—but those who turn a blind eye to injustice, who shield murderers, forfeit that privilege."

"Sebastian, enough!" Nathaniel barked.

"Today, you have two choices," Sebastian continued, ignoring his father. "Discipline your people yourself, or let me handle it—permanently." His chilling gaze shifted to Edith.

Edith shivered, her expensive gown damp with sweat. Why was he looking at her? Did he suspect her?

No—she hadn't lifted a finger. It was all Duke's doing. She was innocent!

"Fine! Investigate all you want!" Barry snarled. "But you'd better have proof it was someone from the Fairhaven family. If not, Sebastian, don't blame us for what comes next!"

Sebastian merely curled his lip. The entire Fairhaven Group was beneath his concern—why would he fear an old man's threats?

Yet Arabella couldn't help but worry. She hadn't been involved—did he actually have evidence?

As the racetrack manager, Matthew scrambled to retrieve all surveillance footage from the stables.

Soon, the footage was displayed. Unfortunately, despite multiple cameras, Wind's stall was in a blind spot in Zone D.

Only a shadow was visible, obscured by hay and horses—the perpetrator's face remained hidden.

The situation had reached a deadlock.

Duke exhaled in relief, while Edith smirked victoriously from the sidelines.

"Ha! So you have no proof, just baseless accusations?" Gary mocked. "No witnesses, no footage—yet you're so sure it's us? Sebastian, I get you want to defend Arabella's honor, but maybe you're biting off more than you can chew!"