Chapter 53

Nathaniel held the broken necklace directly in front of Evelyn, his expression as cold as if he were discussing a business transaction.

"Evelyn, is this the necklace you lost?"

Evelyn snatched it from his hand and let out a sharp gasp. "My necklace! What happened to it? Who did this?"

All eyes turned to the shattered pieces of what had once been a luxurious diamond necklace.

"Our manager was informed of your missing necklace and immediately ordered a thorough search of the presidential suite," Nathaniel explained calmly. "We found it beneath the sofa. But when we did, it was already in this condition. We don’t know how it happened."

"See? I told you she was lying!" a guest sneered. "She probably misplaced it herself and then blamed the hotel staff. Just because she’s rich doesn’t mean she can accuse innocent people!"

"Goodness, that diamond was enormous! Who wears something that flashy anyway? It’s practically begging for trouble!" another muttered.

Evelyn’s face twisted with fury. "So what if you found it? That doesn’t prove your staff didn’t steal it! She probably hid it under the sofa to sell later!"

"I didn’t!" the waitress cried, her voice trembling. "I would never!"

"If someone had stolen it, they wouldn’t have broken it," Isabella interjected coolly. "This wasn’t theft—it was deliberate. Someone wanted to destroy it, not take it. Maybe out of jealousy."

Evelyn froze.

Her two friends exchanged uneasy glances, suddenly silent.

"Since the necklace has been recovered, there’s no evidence of theft," Isabella continued. "If you insist on pursuing this, I’ll see it through to the end."

She glanced at Evelyn’s companions. "My assistant handled the necklace carefully. The police will be here soon. They can check for fingerprints. A diamond that size should hold prints easily."

"Yes, fingerprints!"

"That’s perfect!"

The crowd murmured in agreement.

Evelyn’s friends paled, tugging at her arm. "Enough. You’re making a scene. Let’s go."

Realizing she was only embarrassing herself further, Evelyn shoved the broken necklace into her purse and turned to leave.

"Wait." Isabella’s voice cut through the air like ice.

Evelyn spun around. "What now?"

"You publicly accused our staff of theft without proof. You humiliated her in front of everyone. Don’t you think you owe her an apology?"

"Apologize? To a waitress?" Evelyn laughed sharply. "Your service is terrible, and you expect me to apologize?"

Murmurs of disapproval rippled through the crowd.

"That’s no way for a Vanderbilt to behave," someone muttered.

"She practically had the poor girl on her knees begging!"

"How cruel!"

The waitress stood trembling in the corner, silent tears streaking her cheeks.

"If there was an issue with our service, you could have complained," Isabella said, her gaze unwavering. "But falsely accusing an employee is different. You owe her an apology."

"You want me to apologize to a servant?" Evelyn scoffed. "What kind of manager are you?"

Then—a sudden thud.

The waitress collapsed, her body rigid, eyes rolling back. Foam bubbled at her lips as she convulsed violently.

Gasps filled the room.

Isabella dropped to her knees beside her, loosening the girl’s collar to clear her airway.

"She’s having a seizure! Nathaniel, call an ambulance!"

"Already done. They’re on their way."

A deep, commanding voice made Isabella look up.

Alexander stood behind her, impeccably dressed, his presence commanding the room.

Their eyes locked—a heartbeat of stillness amid the chaos.

"It’s Mr. Kingsley!" someone whispered.

"Brother." Evelyn’s voice wavered.

Alexander’s expression darkened. "Gordon, take Evelyn home. Now."

With the crowd already filming, further scandal was the last thing the Vanderbilt Group needed.

Gordon didn’t hesitate, ushering Evelyn away.

Isabella barely spared them a glance, her focus on the convulsing girl.

"Damn it, she’s biting her tongue!" Nathaniel shouted.

Without thinking, Isabella shoved her wrist between the girl’s teeth.

A sharp pain shot through her as teeth clamped down, but she didn’t flinch.

Alexander stiffened, too late to stop her.

He watched, stunned, as she endured the pain without hesitation—her small frame radiating courage.

For a fleeting moment, he saw someone else.

Paloma.

On the battlefield years ago, she had done the same for him.

"Don’t give up! We’ll make it!"

The memory twisted in his chest.

The ambulance arrived swiftly, and Nathaniel accompanied the waitress to the hospital.

"Miss, your quick action saved her life," a medic told Isabella.

She only smiled faintly. "I just did what anyone would."

Back in the now-quiet lobby, Isabella finally examined her wrist—deep teeth marks, blood welling.

She headed for the medical room.

"Isabella."

Alexander’s voice stopped her.

He was closer than she expected, his presence overwhelming.

She stepped back instinctively, but he caught her arm, pulling her against him.

His chest was solid, unyielding.

"Alexander, control yourself," she said coolly, trying to free herself.

"Where have you been?" His grip tightened. "You vanished. Why?"

"That’s none of your concern."

His jaw clenched. "Come with me."

"Let go," she hissed. "Or I’ll call security."

His eyes darkened.

The thought that she no longer wanted him—that she could walk away—ignited something possessive inside him.

"Even if you call Daniel here," he growled, "he won’t stop me from taking you."