Chapter 337

Isabella's breath caught in her throat as her entire body went rigid, her lips trembling in shock.

She wasn't slow to react—but the attack came without warning. A massive, muscular stallion was charging straight at her, its hooves pounding the ground like a speeding bullet.

Human reflexes weren't built for this.

"Mr. Kingsley!"

The secretary's voice cracked with panic as he shouted for Alexander, but it was already too late.

The horse, eyes wild and nostrils flaring, was mere feet away from trampling Isabella.

Her legs locked in place, frozen by sheer terror.

"Isabella!"

Alexander lunged forward, wrapping his arms around her and yanking her out of harm's way just as the beast thundered past.

They crashed onto the ground in a tangle of limbs, dust swirling around them.

Alexander took the brunt of the impact, shielding Isabella with his body. Aside from a few scrapes, she was unharmed.

But the force of the fall sent a sharp jolt through her, twisting her stomach into knots.

If she was feeling this shaken, how much worse was it for him?

"Alex! Are you okay?" Her voice trembled, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"I'm—watch out!"

His face paled as he tightened his grip on her, rolling them both aside just as the horse reared up again, hooves slashing the air where they'd been seconds before.

A pained groan escaped Alexander as sweat drenched his suit.

"Alex!"

Her chest constricted, making it hard to breathe.

Finally, the secretary and two trainers managed to subdue the frenzied animal, injecting it with a sedative. The horse's wild thrashing slowed, its crazed gaze dulling.

"Mr. Kingsley! Mr. Kingsley!"

The secretary rushed over, face ashen. Seeing Alexander still on the ground, he turned on the trainers.

"How could you let this happen?" he snarled. "If Mr. Kingsley is seriously hurt, I swear you'll both pay for it!"

The trainers cowered, unable to defend themselves.

"Enough about me—get him medical attention!" Isabella ordered, wiping sweat from her brow.

She checked Alexander for injuries, her doctor's instincts kicking in.

"Where does it hurt? Describe the pain while you're still conscious!"

Despite the agony, the corner of his mouth lifted. "Seeing you worry over me like this... makes the pain worth it."

"Alexander, this isn't the time for jokes!" she snapped, frustration and fear sharpening her tone.

He bit back another wince. "My arm and back... mostly my arm."

Her fingers found the fracture instantly.

Guilt twisted inside her as she recalled the moment he'd thrown himself between her and danger.

"It's fine, Isabella," he murmured, voice soft.

"Fine? Your arm is broken!" Her eyes burned, voice breaking.

Even now, injured because of her, he was the one comforting her.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of you." His gaze held hers, steady. "If a bone is broken, I'll mend it. If all your bones were broken, I'd fix every single one. I promise."

I'll take care of everything.

The words wrapped around her like warmth.

No one had ever said that to him before.

But Isabella had. And that was just one of the countless reasons he adored her.

"This doesn't make sense," one trainer muttered, scratching his head. "This horse is the gentlest in the stable. It's skittish, sure, but never violent. What could've set it off?"

The secretary shot him a glare. "You're asking us? Figure it out!"

"Horses only react like this when they're severely frightened," Isabella said, frowning.

"But how?" the other trainer protested. "It was resting in its stall all day. No one went near it. Nothing happened."

At that, both Isabella and Alexander exchanged a grim look.

Meanwhile, at the Sinclair Convention Center, the elite mingled under glittering chandeliers.

Frederic Sinclair stood among business titans, wine glass in hand, engaged in polite conversation.

"Mr. Sinclair! It's been too long!"

Frederic turned to see Bevis approaching, champagne in hand and a practiced smile in place.

"Ah, Bevis. Good to see you." His response was cool, bordering on indifferent.

Despite being Emeric's younger brother and Vice Chairman of K Group, Bevis held little real power. The company's shares and assets remained firmly in Emeric's control—soon to be passed to Cassius, his eldest son.

Bevis was, at best, a placeholder.

The business world worshipped power, and Frederic had no patience for those without it.

"Bevis, where's Emeric tonight? Did you come alone?" another guest asked.

"My brother is... preoccupied with family matters," Bevis sighed, feigning concern. "His wife, Myra, hasn't been well lately. You've heard the rumors, I'm sure. Emeric fears she might do something drastic, so he refuses to leave her side."

Frederic's expression remained neutral, but his grip tightened slightly on his glass.

"Such a shame," someone murmured. "Those rumors are ancient history. Who would dredge them up now?"

"Jealousy, plain and simple," another scoffed. "She's beautiful, wealthy, adored—of course people would try to tear her down."

Frederic's jaw clenched.

Though no names were mentioned, the implication pricked at him.

"Emeric is a man of honor," a guest remarked.

"Indeed. Myra was just an actress when they married, yet he's stood by her all these years. That speaks volumes."

Bevis's smile stiffened.

He'd hoped to invite ridicule, but instead, his brother was being praised.

Pathetic sycophants.

Frederic checked his watch, scanning the room for Thaddeus.

"Mr. Sinclair, such an important event tonight—where is Thaddeus?" Bevis pressed.

"He'll be here shortly."

"Excellent!" Bevis's eyes lit up. "Actually, K Group has a promising environmental project. My brother assigned it to me, and we're seeking partners."

He launched into a pitch, and Frederic nodded politely, though his attention was elsewhere.

"My daughter, Arabella, has drafted two solid proposals. She'll be joining us later. After the gala, I've arranged a private meeting. You and Thaddeus should attend—we can discuss further."

Frederic's brow furrowed. "Your daughter?"

"Yes, Arabella. Just four months younger than Evadne. Graduated top of her class at Oxford, worked as a translator for the Prime Minister. Now she's K Group's Director of Product Design—earned the position on merit, of course."

The nearby guests exchanged knowing glances.

On merit? Please.

"She sounds... accomplished," Frederic said flatly.

"Then it's settled! I'll arrange everything after the gala."

Frederic blinked.

Settled? When did I agree?

He wasn't senile. Bevis's "business discussion" was clearly a thinly veiled setup—an excuse to parade his daughter in front of Thaddeus.

"Bevis, my father never agreed to anything."

A chill swept through the room as Thaddeus strode forward, his icy gaze cutting through the crowd.

"Thaddeus! There you are." Frederic exhaled in relief.

Bevis's smile faltered.

"If you were serious about business," Thaddeus said coolly, "you'd have scheduled a proper meeting. Not ambushed us at a social event."

"Mr. Sinclair, I merely thought—"

"And if your real goal was to introduce your daughter?" Thaddeus's voice turned glacial. "Save your breath. I don't participate in matchmaking games."