Chapter 507

The arrest of Nathan Prescott was the bombshell dominating headlines nationwide.

As anticipated, the only thing powerful enough to dethrone Margaret Laurent from trending searches was an even more explosive scandal.

But the true devastation unfolded within the Prescott family.

The scandal involving the Prescott siblings had pushed the once-revered dynasty to the brink of ruin. Arrests were damaging enough, but to have their dirty laundry aired on national television? That was a humiliation no amount of wealth could erase.

Watching the live broadcast, Harrison Prescott felt his heart stutter, his face draining of color as his body sagged backward.

"Father!"

Sebastian rushed forward to catch him, but Adrian, standing closer, intercepted him first.

"Father, sit down and breathe," Adrian urged, guiding Harrison to the sofa before shooting Sebastian a pointed look. "Sebastian, what are you waiting for? Call a doctor!"

Sebastian's face flushed crimson with fury, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to tear Adrian's tongue out. "You little—"

"Sebastian, I know you've always resented me," Adrian cut in, his voice laced with feigned concern. "I've never challenged you, never stepped on your toes. But with the family in shambles and Father unwell, my priority is his safety—not arguing with you!" His tone was urgent, but his steel-gray eyes bore into Sebastian with icy precision.

Harrison suddenly roared, his voice cracking like a whip, silencing the room. "Sebastian! You spineless, petty man! Get out! Now!"

The air turned glacial, thick with unspoken tension.

Sebastian's jaw clenched so hard his temples pulsed, his knuckles white. But with Adrian currently in Harrison's good graces, lashing out would only backfire. Swallowing his rage, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

"Father, don't be too hard on him," Adrian murmured, his voice dripping with false sympathy as he stoked Harrison's anger. "Think about it. He's been managing the company, overseeing our siblings—it hasn't been easy. With the group in crisis, he's stretched thin. His frustration is understandable. Please don't blame him."

"Margaret and Nathan are in this mess because of his negligence! He spoiled them!" Harrison clutched his chest, his face twisted in anguish. "Has he ever truly handled a crisis as CEO? I trusted him to keep an eye on Nathan, and this is what happens? Useless! If Prescott Holdings' stocks plummet any further, we'll be vulnerable to a hostile takeover. Then we're truly finished!"

"Father, I'll handle the company's issues. You just focus on your health—no more worries." Adrian's voice was soothing, a balm to Harrison's frayed nerves.

"My son, I've wronged you all these years. This family can't survive without you."

Harrison's eyes welled with tears as he gripped Adrian's hand. "From now on, I won't let you down."

On the drive back, Adrian's demeanor shifted. A cold smirk curled his lips.

"Mr. Prescott, I don't understand," Daniel said, frowning.

"With your resources in Helgen, you could easily buy up Prescott Holdings' stocks overnight. Why stabilize the situation instead? Wouldn't chaos benefit you more?"

"I don't hold shares in Prescott Holdings. No matter how many I acquire, I can't outpace Harrison and Sebastian. Acting recklessly now would give my enemies ammunition."

Daniel nodded slowly. "Makes sense. You've just earned the old man's trust, and with the rift you've created between father and son, caution is key."

"Besides, I want to take the throne legitimately—not be branded a traitor or schemer."

Adrian's chin lifted with dark amusement. "What Sebastian cherishes most is his CEO title. If I can personally dethrone him and crush him under my heel, that will be the sweetest revenge."

"Sebastian is already falling out of favor. Your time will come soon enough," Daniel chuckled, sharing in Adrian's triumph.

Adrian closed his eyes, a pang of longing piercing his chest. "Alexander has always been reserved about me and Isabella. He doesn't trust me because I lack a position or shares in Prescott Holdings. I need to take control of the company soon, sever ties with the Prescotts, and prove my worth to Alexander. Only then will Isabella and I have a chance. For her, I'd burn the world. And Prescott Holdings will be my gift to her."

Daniel's phone buzzed urgently.

He glanced at the message and quickly reported, "Mr. Prescott! Our sources say Alexander is on his way to see Ms. Sinclair!"

That evening, as Lucas was summoned by Reginald and Isabella had left with Nathaniel, only Arabella and Lillian remained at home.

Arabella sat in the sunroom Lucas had designed for her, lost in her painting, while Lillian stood nearby, admiring the way the girl's brushstrokes brought the villa's lush summer garden to life.

"Ma'am, you're incredible—this looks like a photograph!"

"Oh, stop. Lillian, you're too kind," Arabella murmured, her cheeks flushing pink.

"No exaggeration, ma'am. I never lie—not to you or Mr. Grant."

Lillian smiled warmly, her sincerity shining through. "Mr. Grant is blessed to have you. Thank you."

Arabella shook her head, her clear eyes sparkling. "I should be thanking Lucas. He's never looked down on me for being... slower. He's always been so kind, keeping me close."

"Ma'am, don't say that."

Lillian knelt beside her, gently taking her paint-stained hand. "No one in this world is more perfect for the young master than you."

Just then, the doorbell rang.

"Oh! Could that be Lucas? I'll go greet him!"

Arabella scampered downstairs like an excited sparrow, reaching the foyer.

Since no outsiders knew their address, she didn't hesitate before flinging open the door and throwing her arms around the man standing there. "Lucas! You're back!"

Silence.

Arabella's eyes flew open. Her nose twitched as she sniffed his chest like a curious puppy.

This wasn't Lucas. Lucas always carried a faint hint of tobacco, but this man smelled only of crisp soap.

"Ms. Sinclair, what are you sniffing for?"

The man's voice was laced with amusement. Arabella yelped, leaping back several feet.

Only then did she realize—the man she'd embraced wasn't Lucas at all!

"You're the guy from the news! Isabella's brother!" Her mouth fell open in shock.

"Hm? You remember me? From the news? When was I on TV?" Adrian leaned slightly forward, hands clasped behind his back, his smile disarmingly warm.

Arabella clapped a hand over her mouth. What had she just done?

Ever since Lucas had been with her, he'd never touched another woman. And now she'd hugged another man?

Was she tainted? Had she betrayed Lucas?

"I'm so, so sorry," she stammered after a long pause, unsure whether she was apologizing to Adrian or Lucas.

"Ms. Sinclair, what are you apologizing for? If anything, I should be the one sorry. I've been so busy I haven't showered in three days. Hope I didn't offend your nose?" Adrian chuckled, thoroughly entertained by her flustered reaction.

"Ma'am!"

Lillian rushed over, freezing at the sight of Adrian. "Mr. Kingsley?"

Adrian was notoriously private, known only to inner circles. Lillian recognized him only because Lucas had mentioned him in passing.

Otherwise, this would've been another awkward encounter like the one with Mr. Whitmore.

"Is Isabella and Nathaniel here?" Adrian peered past them, concerned. The family drama had escalated, and he hadn't seen his sister in days.

"Ms. Sinclair and Mr. Grant are out handling errands," Lillian said hesitantly before stepping aside. "Please, come in and wait."

Adrian settled onto the living room couch, tossing a file about the Seraphina case onto the coffee table.

The trial was approaching, and Isabella and Nathaniel needed to review the details—which was why Isabella had asked him to meet here tonight.

"Nice place. Cozier than our family's mausoleum," Adrian mused, glancing around.

At least Nathaniel hadn't let his sister down.

"Last time a man visited, he said the same thing. He even mentioned buying the house next door to be neighbors," Lillian remarked dryly.

"Who was that?"

"Dominic."

Adrian burst out laughing. "Sounds like Dominic. Always throwing money around. What he spends in a year, I'd need a decade to earn."

Then he noticed Arabella, curled up in the corner like a frightened rabbit, her delicate shoulders hunched.

"Ms. Sinclair, did I scare you?" Adrian's expression softened with concern.

Arabella nodded—then quickly shook her head, her fingers nervously twisting her dress.

"It's my fault, really. If anything, I took advantage of the situation. I apologize." Adrian spoke bluntly, his police training making him direct to a fault.

What?

Lillian stiffened at the word "advantage," her gaze sharpening as her fists clenched.

Then, the doorbell rang again.

Suppressing her irritation, Lillian checked the monitor—and froze.

"Is my sister back?" Adrian followed.

Seeing Alexander's face on the screen, Adrian inhaled sharply.