Chapter 487

Isabella lowered her head, her posture as deferential as a servant. "I had no other option..."

"After returning, I discovered my parents—who'd ignored me for years—had also come back. They claimed they were forced to neglect me back then. Having been an orphan for so long, all I desired was to reunite with them and live a quiet life..."

"So you remained in Westchester for five years and bore Nathaniel's child?!" Vivienne's voice sharpened, her eyes blazing with fury. "After what you've done, I could make you vanish without a trace!"

At Rosewood Manor.

Isabella lounged lazily on the sofa, her tone casual but firm. "Ensure Theodore is well cared for. I want him comfortable and content."

"Don't worry—Senior Montgomery has improved greatly since learning the truth. But prepare yourself; Eleanor and Richard are likely to visit soon," Adrian warned.

Isabella's expression remained cool and detached. Exposing Victoria's deceit wasn't about rejoining the Montgomery family. It was about ensuring Victoria faced consequences for her actions. Their apologies and regrets meant nothing to her.

Across the sofa, little Oliver lay on his stomach, sketching intently with colored pencils. After Isabella ended the call, he scrambled over and proudly presented his drawing. "Mommy, look! I made this for you."

Isabella took the paper. A tender scene unfolded under soft window light—herself reclining gracefully on the sofa. The artwork was remarkably detailed and skilled, far beyond his years.

Yet...

Oliver had drawn a large white circle over her abdomen, with a peaceful baby girl sleeping inside. Isabella's lips twitched slightly. Was he truly this desperate for a sister?

Ever since that night, Oliver had constantly hinted at a sibling—through drawings, preparing toys, even excitedly building a small crib. When he discovered the truth, he might be... Her gaze drifted to Nathaniel, seated nearby.

Nathaniel sat in a single armchair, documents resting on his lap. His posture was impeccably elegant, exuding an aura of sharp intelligence and refined coldness. He looked like he belonged on the cover of a luxury magazine.

Even after living together, her heart still raced uncontrollably whenever she watched him. The wound on his arm stood out starkly against his flawless skin.

She remembered how he'd shielded her that day, and all the moments they'd shared since. A strange thought surfaced: Perhaps having his child wouldn't be so terrible.

She knew how sincerely Nathaniel treated her. He seemed genuinely committed to their relationship.

Suddenly, the doorbell chimed.

Isabella frowned. Who would visit Rosewood Manor at this hour? Could it be Eleanor arriving so soon?

She rose and opened the door. A woman stood there, barely five feet tall. Her delicate, palm-sized face wore a pitiable expression, eyes glistening with unshed tears. She wore a faded, cheap white dress that made her appear fragile and meek.

She resembled a pure white lily—so delicate and gentle she might be swept away by the wind. This was the genuine article, unlike Victoria's artificial performance.

Upon seeing Isabella, the woman stammered nervously, "Hello... Is... Is Mr. Blackwood here?"

Isabella's brow furrowed. She was here for Nathaniel?

Unease flickering within her, Isabella turned toward Nathaniel. "Nathaniel, you have a visitor."

Nathaniel glanced up from his documents. His eyes darkened instantly upon seeing the figure at the door. The papers in his hands trembled slightly.