Chapter 491

Lucas's heart shattered as he took in Isabella's ghostly pale face, her exhaustion carving lines deeper than any wound.

"I want to spend eternity with Isabella. But Daniel, I can't be that cruel. Her family isn't like mine. I'd sacrifice everything for her, but if she lost her family because of me, how could I live with myself? Without their love and support, would she ever truly know happiness?"

His voice cracked like dry earth as he repeated, "I've already stolen too much from her. I nearly destroyed her. Daniel, I can't hurt her anymore; I won't let her lose another thing. I just won't."

"Is that your decision? But have you asked Isabella what she wants?"

Daniel studied his friend's tormented expression, brow furrowing. "There's a hurricane raging outside. Isabella suffered through hell to reach you. Family matters, yes. But right now, you're what matters to her. If you push her away for some twisted notion of her happiness, the next storm might drown you both. Lucas, don't let regret be your legacy."

Each word struck Lucas like a blade, cleaving his soul open.

He remembered Isabella murmuring about their child, begging him to save their baby. Feverish delirium couldn't disguise the festering wound she'd hidden behind every radiant smile—a wound that bled fresh at the slightest touch.

"How do you do it, Isabella? How do you look at my wretched face every day and still smile? How are you still so... kind to me?"

Before his oldest friend, Lucas finally broke. He struck himself across the face with a sound that echoed like gunfire.

"Lucas! What the hell?"

Daniel lunged, catching his wrist. "Get a grip! Self-flagellation won't fix anything! If it did, I'd hand you every knife in this house and let you carve yourself to pieces!"

The doctor arrived swiftly, administering fever reducers and starting an IV. "Had we delayed, her heart could've suffered irreversible damage. Mr. Lockwood, I strongly recommend hospitalizing Ms. Sinclair at dawn. My equipment here is rudimentary—this merely stabilizes her. If the fever returns by tomorrow night, don't hesitate."

Lucas traced Isabella's damp forehead with trembling fingers. Still too warm. Dawn couldn't come soon enough.

"Mr. Lockwood, has Ms. Sinclair suffered a hand fracture? The left pinky shows signs of prior ligament damage." The doctor's sudden question startled him.

"Fracture? What are you talking about?"

"Examine her left pinky—the misalignment suggests either a past break or severe trauma. Even healed, there'd likely be permanent impairment."

Lucas's world tilted. His pulse roared in his ears.

"That's impossible!" Daniel looked genuinely shocked. "The Sinclairs would call a specialist for a paper cut! How could they ignore a fracture? Even a pinky affects dexterity—that's a disability!"

Disability.

The word lodged in Lucas's throat like broken glass. He clutched Isabella's delicate hand tighter.

He'd asked about that finger once. She'd deflected, eyes shuttering. What horror had she buried there?

After the doctor left, Olivia brought fresh pajamas before discreetly exiting with Daniel.

Lucas changed Isabella himself, then knelt with a basin of water, gently washing the mud from her battered feet.

Those perfect feet he'd worshipped were now marred with cuts and grime. The sight hollowed him out.

"Isabella. I swore to bring you joy. Look what I've given you instead."

A choked sob escaped him as his phone vibrated—Alexander calling.

Wiping his eyes, Lucas answered by the window. "Alexander, how's Grandfather?"

"Mr. Reginald is resting, though he refused sleep until Ms. Sinclair was found. Mr. Lockwood, have you—"

"She's safe. Tell him not to worry. I won't leave her side."

However long "always" lasted now.

"Mr. Lockwood, forgive me." Alexander's voice thickened with guilt. "Had I told you sooner about the miscarriage..."

"This tragedy is mine alone."

Silence stretched. Then Lucas remembered—three Christmases past, he'd been overseas inspecting a project. Time zones meant calls from home should've reached him instantly.

"Alexander, you said Isabella called me that day? But I never received it."

"Repeatedly, sir. Though given your precarious position at the firm then, constantly traveling, barely eating... It wasn't deliberate neglect."

Suddenly, lightning struck Lucas's memory. That very day, Victoria Sterling had stormed his office, demanding he attend some gala.

He'd refused, frantic for a meeting. Enraged, she'd snatched his phone—and tossed it into the aquarium.

Was that when Isabella's desperate call came? Darkness yawned before him.

"Mr. Lockwood? Sir?" Alexander's concern spiked.

Bracing against the sill, Lucas felt his body folding inward, soul teetering on collapse.

Next morning.

Isabella's fever broke. Lucas could breathe again.

When her eyes fluttered open, she launched into his arms, their heartbeats syncing as they clung like survivors.

"Lucas... This isn't a dream?"

Tear-streaked, she pinched his cheeks hard—typical Isabella, verifying reality through others' pain.

But Lucas only smiled, stroking her hair. "It's me. Pinch harder if you doubt it."

"Oh, thank God!"

She buried herself against him, sobbing freely. The harder she cried, the more relief flooded Lucas—his fierce girl was healing.

After long moments, he pressed his lips to her ear. "Isabella. I'm so sorry. When you're stronger, punish me however you wish."

"Why? Everything's fine now." Her bright eyes searched his. "Unless... you found a mistress while I was gone?"

Lucas blanched. "Isabella."

"Joking." She pinched his gaunt face, heart aching. "You're skin and bones. Trying to scare me?"

Last night's tear tracks still marked his face. He entwined their fingers tightly, silent.

Instead of speaking, he kissed her—slow, sweet, pouring every unspoken vow into it.

He'd bear her pain. Spend his life making amends, even if it destroyed him.

Downstairs...

When Evelyn woke to news of their guests, excitement lit her face. She rushed to see Isabella, but Daniel caught her waist.

"Sweetheart, give them space. They've endured hell."

"But I miss her!"

"Don't you miss me?" Daniel turned her, eyes pleading. "I worked all night. No love for your husband?"

"You're here every day." She blinked, genuinely puzzled.

Daniel's mock pout was Oscar-worthy.

Disaster. While he burned for her, his wife had settled into comfortable matrimony, finding him... predictable.

Panicked, he crushed her against the counter, kissing her until she melted. Breaking apart breathlessly, he traced her swollen lips.

"Wait a little longer to visit, hm?"

"Okay..." Dazed, Evelyn nodded. "I'll bake her favorite cake. She'll need sweets to recover."

Olivia gathered supplies as Evelyn transformed into a flour-dusted whirlwind. Daniel watched, utterly besotted.

"Darling, feed me a taste?" He leaned in, mouth open.

Giggling, Evelyn smeared frosting on his nose. "Oops."

"You minx." He growled playfully. "Now I'll devour you—"

The doorbell cut through their laughter.

"Daniel, are we expecting anyone?" Evelyn frowned beneath him.

Rarely did guests visit their private sanctuary. Few even knew its location.

"Olivia, check the door," Daniel ordered.

But minutes passed without return. Then—a heavy thud.

"Stay here." Daniel sprinted toward the foyer—and froze.

Olivia was pinned against the wall by a devastatingly handsome stranger who smirked at Daniel's shock.

"Lovely home." Nathaniel's gaze swept the room before landing on Daniel. "Perhaps I'll buy the neighboring estate. Be closer to family."