Chapter 97

Isabella clearly had no intention of continuing the conversation. She spoke with grave finality. “Take Oliver home. I stayed up far too late last night and desperately need to catch up on sleep.” With that declaration, she moved toward her bedroom.

As she passed Nathaniel, she paused, unable to resist one more attempt. “Christopher, please be good for me. Look, see these dark circles? I truly need to rest. Will you be a good boy and go home now?”

“Okay! I’ll listen to Mommy!” Oliver’s immediate agreement was unexpected. He even gathered the dishes and headed for the kitchen. “Sleep as long as you need, Mommy. Daddy and I will clean up and then we’ll leave. I promise we won’t disturb you.”

Isabella’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Since when had her son become so remarkably compliant?

Nathaniel was equally perplexed but chose not to question it. He turned to her. “Get some rest. We’ll handle this and then go.” He followed Oliver into the kitchen to help with the washing up.

She watched their retreating figures—one tall and commanding, the other small and earnest. A wave of unexpected, long-forgotten domestic warmth washed over her, emanating from the kitchen. It was a feeling she hadn’t experienced in five long years.

She entered her room and lay down on the bed. Staring at the ceiling, an unwanted memory from half a decade ago forced its way to the surface.

Five years ago. Alexander Whitmore had invited her to The Grand Monarch, promising a surprise. But the first person she encountered there was Victoria Kensington. After sharing a single glass of wine with her, everything went black.

She awoke later in a bed at The Ritz-Carlton. Her virginity was gone. Alexander was lying beside her. For a long time, she truly believed she had given herself to him that night. She only discovered much later it was all part of Victoria’s vicious trap.

All these years, she had fought hard to bury the memory, to stop herself from dwelling on it. But recently, the resentment toward the unknown man in that bed had grown sharper. If not for him, she would never have been disgraced. Perhaps she wouldn’t feel such deep-seated resistance and wariness toward men’s advances. A man who would take advantage of an unconscious woman was no good man.

The soft click of the front door closing echoed from the living room. Isabella pulled herself from her dark thoughts. She reached for her phone and sent a swift text to Maxwell. “Dig deeper into what happened five years ago. Leave no stone unturned.”

“Understood.”

Outside, Nathaniel had paid no real attention to Alexander’s earlier words. Once they were clear of Rosewood Manor, he looked down at his son. “Why were you so unusually obedient back there?”

“Daddy, couldn’t you see Mommy was really angry with you?” Oliver replied matter-of-factly. “Besides, you didn’t have a good answer for her. She definitely thinks you’re being stupid. The more you talk, the more mistakes you make. Sometimes, it’s best to just do nothing.”

Nathaniel coughed, slightly affronted. Even his young son could see that Isabella thought him a fool?

Oliver offered more advice. “I think you need to figure out why Mommy released those photos herself. And why she refused your help. Everyone is mocking her now. If you can understand her real reasons and support her properly, you’ll stand out to her.”

Nathaniel carried Oliver to the car. As he drove, he pondered deeply. Isabella’s Guci photo should have been enough to utterly destroy Victoria’s. It should have doubled the sales. No one could have predicted the scandal that erupted instead.

His mind suddenly locked onto a single, crucial word: ‘sales’. His eyes narrowed, a new and chilling understanding dawning.