Chapter 235

Isabella Sinclair blinked awake to find herself back in her family's penthouse in Manhattan.

"Wait—how did I get here?"

She pinched her arm hard to confirm she wasn't dreaming. The sharp pain proved this was reality.

"Either I teleported or grew wings overnight," she muttered.

The door swung open to reveal her adoptive mothers Olivia Bennett and Sophia Reynolds. Sophia immediately rushed to her bedside. "Sweetheart, how's your stomach? Still hurting?"

Olivia gently cupped Isabella's face, concern etching her features. "You've lost weight. Have you been skipping meals again at that office?"

"You should just stay home with us," Sophia added, eyes glistening. "You're the Sinclair heiress—why bother with those corporate sharks? If you want anything, just name it. Even if it's endangered species, I'll hunt them down myself."

Isabella laughed. "Sophia, I'm not that spoiled. Though I might draw the line at crocodile tartare."

"Don't mind her," Olivia chided affectionately. "She just worries about you. We promised your biological mother we'd protect you. Seeing you suffer breaks our hearts."

"It's just indigestion," Isabella waved off their concern. "You're overreacting."

"Overreacting?" Sophia gasped dramatically. "When you were six, we called an ambulance for a sneeze!"

Olivia sighed. "Your father hasn't slept or eaten since you collapsed. He's been pacing outside your door all night."

"What? That's unacceptable!" Isabella bolted upright. "I'll shove food down his throat if I have to!"

Then she paused. "Wait—how did I get home last night?"

"Alexander brought you," Olivia answered.

Ah, her ever-dependable older brother.

Sophia frowned. "But he looked furious when he carried you in. I've never seen him that angry. What did you do?"

Isabella shuddered. "Me? Challenge Alexander? I'm all bark outside but a scared kitten at home—you know that."

The mothers exchanged knowing glances. "So someone else provoked him."

Rubbing her temples, Isabella slid out of bed. "Never mind that. I need to check on William."

In his study, William Sinclair sat brooding on his leather couch, face stormy.

Memories of last night haunted him—seeing his daughter carried home pale and trembling had felt like a knife to his heart.

"Mr. Kingsley," his assistant Richard Langley attempted to lighten the mood, "have you seen today's headlines? The internet's calling Miss Isabella a visionary genius."

"Genius? More like a tornado in human form!" William slammed his fist on the armrest. "Is it too much to ask for one normal day where she doesn't start corporate wars?"

His wife Miranda Chen blinked. "William...you knew Isabella was the anonymous designer Alea all along?"

"She's my daughter—of course I knew! Except about that damned marriage to Nathaniel Vanderbilt!"

William's face reddened as he smacked his thigh in frustration. The little girl he'd once bottle-fed was now a force of nature beyond his control.

"You should be proud," Miranda said softly. "Even the Queen of England wears her designs. That's an incredible honor."

"Miranda, I don't deny her talent," William groaned, massaging his temples. "But she's reckless! Making enemies left and right in that corporate jungle. What if someone sets a trap? By the time I intervene, it might be too late!"

The door burst open to reveal Isabella, cheeks flushed with health.

"Who's the naughty one skipping meals? Should I auction off your vintage car collection to fund orphanages?"

"Are you still in pain?" Miranda fretted.

"Fit as a fiddle," Isabella assured her.

"Then I'll prepare snacks." Miranda shot William a warning look before exiting.

Richard discreetly followed suit.

"I heard everything, Dad." Isabella plopped beside him, draping an arm around his shoulders. "You underestimate me. I don't pick fights I can't win. Those socialites are lambs to my wolf."

"But must you provoke them?" William sighed. "You've got me monitoring stock prices like a hawk."

"Lambs? More like the Vanderbilt clan," Isabella giggled, her laugh like wind chimes. "Dad, your wit's sharper than mine. I admit I was harsh earlier."

"You reckless girl," William pulled her close, then frowned. "Has that Vanderbilt CEO Nathaniel given you trouble?"

Isabella shook her head. "Quite the opposite—he secretly helped that reporter expose Glynnis."

"Playing both sides to clean up his mess," William mused. "No wonder he's kept that CEO chair so long. You were married to him three years—lucky he didn't outmaneuver you."

"Dad, no one outplays me," Isabella flashed a lioness grin.

William's phone buzzed. Isabella glanced at the screen—her smile vanished.

"Who is it?"

"Charles Vanderbilt."

"Ah, your ex-father-in-law."

"Dad!" Isabella's cheeks burned—a rare show of irritation.

William chuckled and put it on speaker. "To what do I owe this call, Charles?"

"William...about last night's auction..." Charles's usually arrogant voice was uncharacteristically meek. "Perhaps we could meet? I'll come to Manhattan—just a quick coffee..."

"I recall no business between us," William said lightly, stroking Isabella's hair. "Besides, my daughter's home. If you have something to say, say it now."

Charles hesitated. "That unsigned receipt...without Glynnis's signature, it's legally void—"

"Charles," William's voice turned glacial, "for your daughter plagiarizing mine, let our lawyers discuss this."

"You'd really sue over this?" Charles's panic surfaced.

William's expression darkened. "Anything concerning my daughter is never 'just business.'"

Isabella watched, eyes shining. Now she understood why her mother married this man—his protective fury was breathtaking.

"William, must we escalate this?" Charles's voice hardened.

"The older I get," William said icily, "the less patience I have for those who harm my family. Cross my daughter, and you'll regret it."