Chapter 416

Oliver’s small hands were still puffy as he helped wash the vegetables.

Nathaniel wore an apron for the first time, attempting to cook.

His knife skills had improved significantly since staying with Isabella.

He swiftly sliced ginger into uneven chunks.

A look of elegant pride lit up his face.

Isabella watched, momentarily captivated.

Yet confusion lingered in her mind.

Why was Nathaniel so determined to cook dinner himself?

They could have simply ordered in.

But that didn’t matter now.

She approached the father and son.

“Don’t mind me,” she said softly. “I need to go out for about an hour. I’ll be back to celebrate.”

“I want to come with you, Mommy!” Oliver immediately perked up.

Isabella walked over and gently pinched his cheek.

“Look at you,” she smiled. “You can’t leave a job half-done. Finish washing these vegetables. I’m just running a quick errand. I’ll be back soon.”

“Oh, alright…” His voice was soft and sweet. “Come home soon, okay Mommy? We’ll be waiting for you…”

Waiting for you to come home.

The phrase warmed her heart.

She would hurry back.

As she turned to leave, Nathaniel’s low, gentle voice stopped her.

“Drive safely.”

His tone was like a husband’s reminder to his wife.

Isabella paused.

Their affection made her want to stay.

But this was important.

“Don’t worry,” she replied. “I’ll be back soon.”

She rode her motorcycle away from Rosewood Manor.

The bike weaved through heavy traffic with ease.

Within twenty minutes, she arrived at The Grand Monarch.

Her memory guided her to the private room.

She stood outside Room 707.

Emotion tightened her chest.

Five years ago, she was raped in this very room.

It was Valentine’s Day.

Alexander had promised her a surprise.

She arrived excitedly, only to find Victoria inside.

Victoria handed her a glass of juice.

Everything went black after that.

For years, she believed it happened at The Ritz-Carlton.

Only recently did Vincent Moreau reveal the truth.

It happened here.

She took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

The strong scent of alcohol hit her immediately.

Before she could react, a figure moved swiftly.

The door locked behind her.

The lights dimmed to a romantic pink.

Rose petals covered the floor and sofa.

Isabella frowned.

The man blocking the door was Alexander.

His suit jacket was gone, leaving only a wrinkled white shirt.

His collar was torn messily.

His handsome face was flushed red.

He was drunk.

Very drunk.

She realized he had trapped them both inside.

“Open the door right now!” Her voice was ice-cold. “Let me out!”

Alexander leaned against the door, his gaze sincere.

“Isabella, don’t go. Hear me out…” His words slurred slightly. “I was wrong all these years. I shouldn’t have manipulated you from the start. I shouldn’t have let Victoria hurt you. You can hit me. Yell at me. Do whatever you want.”

He stepped forward and grabbed her hand.