Chapter 261

Not a single word was spoken.

Nathaniel’s hand came down firmly on her shoulder. He gave a sharp, sudden tug.

A single strand of hair slid free from her shirt.

It was the middle of the night. Why was Nathaniel plucking a hair from her clothing in the dark? And how had he even seen it? The strand seemed to grow longer as he pulled.

Realization hit Isabella. “Stop!” she whispered urgently.

But it was too late.

With that one motion, the stitching on her pajama sleeve gave way. The fabric—whatever it was made of—ripped easily. A section over her chest tore open, exposing her bralette.

Nathaniel’s large hand stilled. He hadn’t expected this. “My apologies,” he murmured, his voice low. “Shall I get you another shirt?”

“No.”

She’d have to get up. It was too much trouble. She pulled the blanket up to cover herself. “Turn over. Face the other way.”

Nathaniel’s brow furrowed, but he acquiesced. “Alright.”

He never refused her. He rolled onto his side, turning his back to her.

Isabella thought she could finally rest. But the sight of his bare back made her heart stutter again.

Moonlight outlined the powerful lines of his shoulders, tapering down to a narrow waist. Nathaniel had the build of a perfect male specimen. His muscular form was practically an invitation—to reach out, to hold him, to lose herself.

This man… Even his silhouette was dangerously suggestive. Isabella squeezed her eyes shut. She forced her thoughts away. He’s just a pretty picture. It’s all in your head. It’s all in your head…

Time passed. Thankfully, Nathaniel kept his word and didn’t turn. His breathing eventually evened out into sleep.

Thoughts of her plan and the Blackthorn Syndicate swirled in her mind. Once she was certain both Oliver and Nathaniel were asleep, Isabella slipped from the bed. The torn shirt gaped open as she sat up. Luckily, Nathaniel was asleep and didn’t see. She ignored it and moved to the dressing room.

From her luggage, she selected dark, practical clothing. She dressed quickly and silently left the room.

The moment the door clicked shut, Nathaniel’s eyes opened. He had not moved.

Isabella noticed nothing. She used the key Nathaniel had given her earlier. In the garage, she chose the most discreet car and drove away from the Blackwood Estate.

The black sedan headed for a mountain range five miles outside the city. The peaks stretched over ten kilometers. Rumors said wild animals roamed there, keeping people away. Most saw it as just a dangerous, uninhabited place. But Isabella knew the truth. This was the heart of the Blackthorn Syndicate’s operations.

Victoria had hired them to set the trap five years ago. The Syndicate was old, disciplined, and secretive. Their strict codes meant they never talked. That was why Isabella had found nothing all this time.

Now, the truth was close. She had to find out who was responsible.

Isabella parked the car and moved swiftly into the mountains. The night was pitch black, but her vision was keen. She climbed over fallen logs, swung from thick vines, and leaped across gullies. Dressed in black, she moved like a creature of the night—silent and sure.

In the darkness behind her, Nathaniel followed. His eyes, shadowed and intense, tracked her every agile move.