Chapter 500

Nathaniel Sinclair's world collapsed as the prosecutors closed in. His knees buckled, and in front of the entire crowd, he crumpled to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut.

Social media exploded. Every headline screamed the same news—Nathaniel Sinclair was under arrest.

Reporters swarmed Harrison Prescott like vultures.

"Mr. Prescott! What's your reaction to your son-in-law's arrest?"

"Did you know about Mr. Sinclair's illegal activities?"

"Has Mr. Sinclair been secretly benefiting the Prescott Group? Were there under-the-table deals?"

Harrison's face turned ashen, his blood boiling with rage.

He had trusted Alexander to handle everything, but the DA's office had broken through—led by none other than Reginald Kingsley's second son, Oliver!

Two powerful moguls, yet here was Reginald's son arresting his son-in-law, humiliating him in front of the world.

If only he had slipped away in the chaos. What a colossal mistake.

"Dad! We need to leave!" Alexander rushed to his father's side, dragging him toward the exit.

The reporters wouldn't relent, chasing them like a pack of wolves. In the frenzy, Harrison lost a shoe.

"My shoe!" Harrison lifted his bare foot awkwardly.

"Dad, forget the shoe! Move!" Alexander, drenched in sweat, pulled him forward.

So Harrison limped away, one shoe missing, fleeing like a disgraced man.

"Look! Whose shoe is that?"

"Is that Harrison Prescott's? Did he run so fast he lost it? Pathetic!"

Cameras flashed, capturing the abandoned shoe. Laughter erupted.

As Nathaniel was dragged out by the DA, his legs barely worked—paralyzed by fear.

Across the street, Isabella and Alexander Kingsley watched it all unfold.

Gordon had already popped the champagne, grinning. "Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Kingsley. A power couple indeed."

They clinked glasses, their eyes locked in silent understanding.

"Thank you, Alexander," Isabella murmured, her voice soft but laced with unspoken emotion. "Working with you has been... exhilarating."

"I didn't do much," Alexander started, then nearly slipped—almost calling her wife. His heart stuttered. He corrected himself quickly. "This was all you, Isabella. Your strategy, your brilliance. I just played my part."

He envied men like Daniel, who could openly call their wives mine without hesitation.

But he had no right to claim her. He had lost that chance too many times.

Now, just being near her was a miracle.

Isabella saw his hesitation, the flicker of regret. She leaned in, her fingers brushing his jaw before pressing a kiss there.

Gordon discreetly stepped out of the car—a good secretary knew when to disappear.

Alexander's breath hitched, his grip tightening on her waist. "Isabella, don't tease me. My self-control is already hanging by a thread."

Her lips curved against his ear. "Then don't resist. Tonight, I'll reward you properly."

The gala, meant to be Elmsworth's crowning moment, ended in disgrace.

Nathaniel's corruption was exposed, sparking public fury. Even the President took notice, demanding a full investigation into the Sinclair family and their political ties.

The Chambers Group—now the Prescott Group—was under fire, its reputation in tatters.

Harrison, scrolling through social media in the car, saw his lost shoe turned into a meme—"Billionaire's Choice: Run Like Hell!"—and in a fit of rage, hurled his phone, shattering the windshield.

Back home, Harrison couldn't sleep. He summoned the family for an emergency meeting.

Byron stumbled in, still drunk, until a sharp slap from his father sobered him up.

Avery lounged in his chair, watching with detached amusement.

"Someone is targeting us!" Harrison roared, slamming his fist on the table. "Who dares humiliate the Prescott Group?"

After decades of power, he had never been so publicly shamed. His fury demanded blood.

"Dad, with Nathaniel arrested, we need damage control," Alexander said coldly. "Cut all ties. Destroy any evidence linking us to his deals. The President's involved—we'll be next."

"Arrested? Why?" Byron blinked, still dazed.

"You useless drunk!" Harrison snarled. "While your brothers handle business, all you do is whore and drink! Tell me—how did I end up with a son who can't even perform?"

The insult hit Byron like a knife. He hated being compared to Avery, hated any mention of his... shortcomings.

"It's Isabella's fault!" Byron spat, face red with rage. "That quack ruined me during my surgery! She sabotaged me!"

"And who exactly are you calling a quack?" Avery's voice cut through the room like ice. His pale lips barely moved, but his gaze promised violence. "Say it again. Who ruined you?"

Byron flinched. Once, he would've fought back. Now, crippled and disgraced, he had no spine left.

"Byron, if Isabella wanted to hurt you, she would've let you lose that leg," Avery sneered. "Not sabotage your pathetic sex life. Keep your stupidity in this house. Don't embarrass us further."

"Enough!" Harrison rubbed his temples. "Who leaked that footage? Who has the power to bypass security and broadcast it live?"

"The Bartleys?" Byron muttered.

"No." Alexander shook his head. "They wouldn't risk it during the gala. This was calculated. Ruthless." His jaw tightened. "This has Isabella's fingerprints all over it."

Harrison scoffed. "That girl?"

"Got proof?" Avery challenged. "Or are you still bitter she humiliated you at the Ashbourne event?"

"This isn't about pride," Alexander snapped. "After what happened with Byron, we declared war on the Ashbournes. Isabella warned us. And now, here we are." His eyes darkened. "Who led the arrest? Her brother Oliver. Coincidence? I think not."

Avery's fists clenched.

"If Isabella wanted revenge, why target Nathaniel?" Byron started—then froze.

Because he and Margaret had conspired against Natalie.

Was Nathaniel just the first domino?

"Dad! Alexander! You have to save Nathaniel!" Margaret burst in, makeup streaked with tears. "He's been loyal to this family!"

"Loyal?" Harrison laughed bitterly. "He's a liability. Distance yourself, or I'll disown you."

Margaret paled.

"Margaret, the DA will summon you," Alexander said flatly. "We'll arrange a press conference. You'll publicly denounce Nathaniel, deny involvement, and try to salvage the Prescott name."

She nodded numbly.

Avery stayed silent. He despised his family's corruption but wouldn't let the empire fall.

Let Alexander clean up the mess.

He'd reap the rewards later.