Chapter 467

The phone slipped from Isabella's fingers as she bolted through the long corridor like a bird escaping its cage, her feet carrying her swiftly toward the gates of Silvercrest Harbor.

The night was thick with silence, broken only by a single, flickering streetlamp.

Beneath its golden glow stood a tall, striking figure, his eyes alight with anticipation.

Though the forecast had warned of storms, Alexander hadn't cared. The moment his work at Kingsley Enterprises was done, he'd driven straight here, his heart pounding with the need to see her.

Only a day had passed.

Yet the longing had been unbearable.

"Alexander!"

Isabella burst through the heavy doors, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she sprinted toward him.

His usually sharp gaze softened, lips curving into a tender smile.

He had already opened his arms, ready to catch her—but she was already flying into them. His strong embrace tightened around her, pulling her close.

"I drove like a madman to get here," he murmured, his warm breath brushing her ear. "I was terrified you'd already be asleep, that I'd miss seeing you."

His right arm wrapped around her waist, his left hand stroking her back in slow, soothing circles. "But it wouldn't have mattered. I'd have waited all night. Even if the sun rose, I wouldn't have left."

"Alexander..." Isabella's voice trembled, her lashes damp.

Being in his arms was like finding shelter in a storm.

No place in the world felt safer than the circle of his embrace.

"Hmm?" He tilted her chin up, his brow furrowing when he saw the tears. "You're crying? Who hurt you?"

Her fingers twisted into his shirt, crumpling the fabric.

Nathaniel's cruel words echoed in her mind—that her sister's engagement to the Chambers heir was merely a stepping stone for her own relationship with Alexander. A choked sob escaped her.

"Should we break up?"

Alexander's heart clenched. "Isabella," he whispered, voice rough with fear. "What's wrong? Why would you say that?"

"Is it because of me that people keep getting hurt?"

The words spilled out, her usual strength crumbling. With others, she was unshakable. But with him, she was raw, vulnerable. "First my brother, now Seraphina... Alexander, maybe we're not meant to be. Maybe we're just—"

His face paled, hands tightening at her waist. "Isabella, don't scare me like this. Tell me what happened."

She bit her lip, struggling to find the words.

"Isabella," he pressed, voice breaking. "Ask anything of me. If you wanted me to walk away from Kingsley Enterprises, I'd do it without hesitation. Just—don't leave me."

They had fought too hard to be together. The thought of losing her now was unbearable.

But how could she change Nathaniel's mind? How could she stop her sister from being forced into this marriage?

Taking a deep breath, she recounted the night's events—though she left out her confrontation with Nathaniel, not wanting to burden him further.

Alexander held her close, his expression darkening. "Just because we're together, Nathaniel is rushing your sister into marriage with the Chambers heir? Even if he favors them, this seems too sudden."

"It's not sudden," Isabella said bitterly, fingers tightening against his chest. "He's been planning this. He never approved of us, and he's probably been negotiating with Mr. Chambers behind the scenes to push me into marrying Adrian. At the last race, I heard from Sebastian that Nathaniel was getting cozy with Adrian—laying the groundwork. If the Fairhaven scandal hadn't derailed things, Nathaniel might have announced my engagement to Adrian in front of everyone. He's ruthless."

The pain of her grip was sharp, but Alexander didn't mind. "Isabella, don't worry. Even if Nathaniel tried, do you really think I'd stand by and let Adrian take you?"

He caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles, his gaze burning. "I'd tear the world apart to keep you."

You wouldn't have to, she thought. I've always been yours.

"But thanks to Evelyn's interference, Nathaniel's opinion of you has softened," she murmured. "Otherwise, he might have thrown both me and Seraphina at the Chambers family just to cut you off completely. I think Mr. Chambers must have pressured him, forcing him to offer Seraphina as a sacrifice. It's disgusting."

Alexander shared her fury. "Isabella, as much as I hate to say it, Adrian's obsession with you runs deep. He might not settle for marrying your sister. If he's determined to have you, an arranged marriage won't stop him. With Byron out of the picture, Nathaniel would never let Seraphina marry him. This engagement might fall apart."

"True," she sighed, leaning into him. "But Adrian is desperate. And desperate men are dangerous. Maybe this is just another one of his schemes—agreeing to the marriage to torment me, to make me feel so guilty I can't be happy with you. If he can't kill me, he'll settle for breaking my heart."

"We'll face it together," he promised.

As if on cue, thunder cracked in the distance, lightning splitting the sky.

Seconds later, rain poured down in sheets.

Alexander quickly opened the car door, and they tumbled into the back seat.

The confined space, humid with the storm, seemed to heighten every sensation. Without a word, they crashed together, lips meeting in a feverish kiss, their passion rivaling the tempest outside.

Breathless, Isabella arched into him, fingers fumbling with his tie.

Alexander's eyes darkened with desire. His hand slid over her shoulder, the silk of her camisole slipping down to reveal skin like polished marble.

"Isabella," he groaned, unable to hold back any longer.

Through the rain-streaked windows, their shadows melded into one.

The car was too small, too restrictive—yet Isabella felt weightless, as if floating among the clouds, her body melting into his.

Later, when the storm had eased, she lay limp in his arms, hair tousled from their passion.

"Next time," she murmured, "maybe book us a room? My back is killing me."

Alexander chuckled, mischief in his voice. "You think a bed would save your back?"

She swatted his chest, cheeks flushing.

"Isabella," he said suddenly, serious. "At the gala this weekend—every elite family in New York will be there. I want to announce our relationship to everyone. Is that okay with you?"

Her eyes widened, breath catching.

Misreading her silence, he squeezed her hand. "Truthfully, I'd rather propose. But I don't want to rush you."

"Why that night?" she finally managed.

"Because I can't wait any longer," he admitted, voice rough. "I need the world to know I belong to you."

Sebastian returned to the Prescott estate, exhausted. From Isabella, he'd learned Seraphina had been crying, had tried calling him countless times—but she'd ignored him, eventually shutting off her phone.

He didn't understand. They'd been inseparable all day. Why was she shutting him out now?

What the hell had happened? His head throbbed with frustration.

"Well, brother, how was your date with the Ashbourne heiress?" Preston's mocking voice cut through the air, making Sebastian's fists clench.

"Seems it didn't go well," Preston taunted, smirking. "What's wrong? Did your golden ticket slip away?"

"I see the Abernathy family's lapdog is still barking," Sebastian shot back coldly.

"At least I earn my keep honestly," Preston sneered. "Unlike you, clinging to a woman's skirts to climb the ladder. When the Ashbourne heiress didn't work out, you settled for Seraphina. Pathetic."

Sebastian's patience snapped. His fist flew—but just in time, Margaret Prescott appeared.

"Sebastian! Stop this at once!"

But he was beyond listening.

"Mom, Seraphina is the woman I love," he snarled, eyes blazing. "Don't insult her."

Margaret recoiled. Her dutiful son had never spoken to her like this.

"I want to marry her," he declared. "No one else."

"And what about your family?" Margaret's voice cracked. "What about me?"

"If you want to keep me as your son, don't speak ill of her. And don't try to stop me—because you can't."

With that, he turned on his heel and stormed upstairs.

"Sebastian!" Margaret shrieked after him. "I'll never allow that woman's daughter into this house! Not unless I'm dead!"

Sebastian paused.

For a second, she thought he'd reconsider.

But he only said, coldly, "Preston, back off. Don't try to clear Elspeth's name. Or I might do something even I can't predict."

"Are you threatening me?" Preston spat.

Sebastian smirked. "You're right about one thing—I am a dog. But not like you. I'm the kind that bites."

Then he was gone, leaving Preston trembling in the cold.

Ever since talk of the arranged marriage began, Byron had dreamed of Seraphina two nights in a row.

She was undeniably beautiful—though just Myra's daughter, nowhere near Isabella's status.

But that wasn't the point.

The point was, he—once the golden boy—had fallen from grace. He needed the Ashbourne family's backing. And he wasn't about to let Adrian steal it from him.

That evening, he summoned Margaret to the wine cellar.

As kids, they'd loved playing here. Now, it was their sanctuary for private talks.

"Byron, you're seriously considering marrying Myra's daughter?" Margaret frowned. "Seems beneath you."

Always closer to her second brother than their imposing eldest, she hated seeing him settle. "You were Father's favorite. And Myra? She's nothing—just Nathaniel's mistress. Her daughter has no real standing. Sure, she's called an Ashbourne heiress, but let's be honest—she's a bastard. Nathaniel's wife has five children—four sons and Isabella. And with his second wife, Sun, having a son and daughter too, Myra and Seraphina will never inherit. What do you gain from this?"

"The Ashbournes aren't like other families. Nathaniel cares for all his children," Byron muttered, downing his wine. "And in my state, do I have a choice?"

Margaret sighed. "So what's your plan? You wouldn't call me here unless you needed help."

Byron leaned in, eyes dark. "You high-society ladies always find reasons to visit Elvira's salons. Surely you can get me close to Seraphina before Adrian does?"