Chapter 263

Sebastian Sinclair felt his entire existence had been violently upended. His heart convulsed with such excruciating pain it threatened to shatter him completely.

What had he done to her?

So many unforgivable things.

Like never proposing, something other wives received without question.

Like leaving her alone in their wedding suite on their honeymoon night, sleeping in another room.

Like never celebrating holidays together, never gifting her so much as a single rose.

Like when her grandfather was in that car accident—he hadn’t even rushed to her side.

But none of these wounds cut as deep as one particular betrayal.

During Arabella Sinclair’s most radiant years, when her love for him burned brightest, his heart had belonged to someone else.

Sebastian’s striking eyes were bloodshot, raw with anguish. He clutched Arabella’s delicate hand, pressing it desperately against his heaving chest.

Regret consumed him.

And those who wallowed in regret were always the ones who lost everything.

"Sebastian, my sister has sacrificed too much for you." Oliver Sinclair, like William, knew every torment Arabella had endured these past thirteen years. Even recalling fragments was enough to make his stomach twist. "Do you realize Arabella nearly died because of you? She was chasing after you—"

"Oliver, enough!" William cut in sharply, his brow furrowed.

Oliver swallowed the rest of his words, fists clenched in helpless fury.

He wanted to punch Sebastian, this wretched man who’d destroyed his sister! The urge was maddening.

But unlike their reckless youngest brother, Oliver had outgrown impulsive violence. Years had tempered him with rationality—only Arabella could unravel his composure and ignite his rage.

"What did you mean by that?"

A fresh wave of agony lanced through Sebastian’s chest as he realized Arabella had kept even more secrets from him. Layers of guilt and dread pressed down on him. "You said Arabella almost died because of me? When? Tell me!"

"Mr. Sinclair."

William’s voice was ice. "Whatever happened between you and my sister is over. She doesn’t wish to revisit it, and neither will we. Let this end here. But if you persist in pursuing her, if you continue to disrupt her peace, don’t blame me for what comes next."

Oliver added venomously, "Sebastian, if you care for Arabella at all, leave her be! You’ve hurt her enough. Do you want her wasting her life pining for you? Let her move on. A man who discarded her like trash doesn’t deserve a second chance."

Arabella was swiftly transported to the hospital by William and Oliver.

William kept the incident quiet, arranging a private helicopter from Kingsley City. Reginald Sinclair remained unaware—if the chairman discovered his beloved daughter had nearly died in that mountain ravine, all of Elmsworth would tremble under his wrath.

Like a shadow, Sebastian didn’t leave after disembarking. He trailed William and Oliver relentlessly.

He watched as Arabella was rushed into the ER, then transferred to a private ward.

Only then did his suspended heart begin to settle.

"Sebastian, you said you’d leave once we reached the hospital. Why are you still here?" Oliver stood blocking the ward entrance, impatience sharp in his tone.

"I’ll leave when she wakes," Sebastian replied, his face ashen.

Even if it made him seem pathetic, he didn’t care.

Lawrence had been right. There was no hope left for him and Arabella.

This was his only chance—even if it meant groveling.

"Sebastian, you’re shameless!" Even the usually composed Oliver was seething.

Sebastian absorbed the insult without flinching.

He’d heard worse. He was numb to it.

"Mr. Sinclair, Arabella hasn’t seen our youngest brother in years," William interjected coolly. "She’d rather reunite with family than endure your presence. You’re hindering her recovery. Now that she’s with us, your concern is unnecessary. Leave."

William’s tone was measured, his gaze steady. Not a single ripple of emotion.

Yet each word was a blade twisting in Sebastian’s chest, draining the life from him.

Outside, the rain had ceased. The sky lightened to a melancholic blue, like faded velvet.

Sebastian trudged out slowly, clutching his damp coat.

It still carried Arabella’s warmth. Though freezing, he hugged it tighter.

"Sebastian, my sister has sacrificed too much for you."

"Do you realize Arabella nearly died because of you? She was chasing after you—"

Chasing me? How?

Sacrificed—what else had she given up?

Oliver’s accusations looped in Sebastian’s mind. His temples throbbed violently, pain radiating through his body.

"Seb!"

"Mr. Sinclair!"

Sebastian lifted his head, sweat beading on his sculpted face.

Through blurred vision, he saw Nathaniel and Lawrence sprinting toward him.

"Seb, you look terrible. Are you okay?"

"Fine," Sebastian muttered, staring blankly at the coat in his hands.

"And Mrs. Sinclair? Did you find her? Is she alright?" Lawrence asked urgently.

Before Sebastian could respond, a tall figure shouldered past him, storming toward the hospital entrance.

"Hey! Watch it, Preston!" Lawrence barked at the retreating back.

The jolt left Sebastian dizzy. His once-sturdy frame trembled uncontrollably, legs buckling.

Preston glanced back, lips curling in a cold, mocking smirk.

"Damn it! Sebastian saved Arabella, for God’s sake! What’s with the attitude?" Lawrence fumed, itching for a fight.

"He owed her. This barely makes up for it. Expect gratitude? Keep dreaming," Preston spat before striding off.

Sebastian’s breath hitched. Sweat trickled down his forehead. His nails dug into his palms, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the torment spreading through his chest.

"Seb, something’s wrong! Let’s get you inside. Seb—!" Nathaniel’s voice faded as Sebastian gagged, blood spewing from his lips.

"Mr. Sinclair!" Lawrence’s cry was frantic.

Preston froze, stunned.

The next second, Sebastian’s body convulsed violently—then he collapsed like a marionette with severed strings.