Chapter 356

Isabella's mind was a storm of emotions as she sped back to her villa in Windsor Estates.

She had intended to confront Arabella, but the entire drive home, all she could see was Alexander pressing her against the wall.

His burning gaze had locked onto hers. In the depths of his passionate eyes, her own reflection had been dark and sorrowful. His anger had been laced with helplessness, humiliation—an image she couldn’t shake. Her fingers, white-knuckled around the steering wheel, had gone numb, as if electrified.

His eyes had been filled with affection.

But what did that prove?

Even if his gaze could sear through her, it didn’t change the fact that he was still the same Alexander—sneaking around with Victoria behind her back!

Stepping out of her car with a grim expression, Isabella was startled to find Sebastian, Nathaniel, and Preston waiting for her at the villa’s entrance. "Isabella!"

"Sebastian, Nathaniel, Preston. What are you all doing here?" she asked, forcing a composed tone.

"Nathaniel told us you went to the Vanderbilt mansion alone—without even bringing Preston. What were you thinking, going in there by yourself?"

Sebastian sighed, stepping forward to wrap an arm around her shoulders. "But then we heard Alexander was home tonight. That eased my mind. With him there, he wouldn’t let anyone hurt you."

"Why wouldn’t they hurt me just because he was there?" Isabella frowned, her lips tightening in displeasure.

"Because he cares about you. He’d protect you."

"That’s a terrible joke, Sebastian."

Isabella’s heart twisted, her voice turning sharper. "I was his wife for three years. Three years of humiliation and suffering in the Vanderbilt family because of him, and he never once stood up for me. Now we’re not even strangers. Why would he defend me?"

"Exactly, Sebastian."

Nathaniel stepped forward, hands in his pockets, smirking. "Alexander is a heartless, ungrateful bastard. Even if he didn’t love Isabella, she was still his wife. He had a duty to protect her. But look what he did! A leopard doesn’t change its spots. He barely started pursuing her again, and he’s already back to his old ways!"

"Nathaniel, what ways?" Preston asked, confused.

"He’s back with Victoria—Dominic’s unlucky sister!" Nathaniel’s tongue was as sharp as ever, a trait inherited from their father and uncle, perhaps even sharper.

Preston coughed lightly, choosing not to comment.

"Well, Nathaniel, you certainly have a way with words. Keep going." Isabella nodded in approval.

Suddenly, Sebastian’s expression hardened as he looked past her.

"Mr. Lockwood?"

Startled, Isabella turned.

In the dim glow of the streetlights, Adrian’s sleek sports car was parked a short distance away. The engine was off, the lights dark—so silent it might as well have been invisible.

He hadn’t stepped out. Instead, he sat in the driver’s seat, leaning forward, forearms resting on the steering wheel, his gaze fixed intently on her.

Isabella bit her lip, meeting his eyes.

She didn’t greet him. She didn’t approach.

Under the faint light, she could see Adrian slowly lower his body, burying most of his striking face in his arms, leaving only his hauntingly lonely eyes visible.

That wounded, pitiful look—like a lost puppy—was the same expression he’d worn fifteen years ago when she’d seen him being punished by his father in the rain.

"Wait, when did he follow us here? Didn’t even make a sound. Creepy." Nathaniel shuddered, a chill running down his spine.

Sebastian glanced at Adrian’s car, then back at Isabella with a complicated expression. "He followed you to the Vanderbilts?"

"Yes."

Just then, the sports car roared to life, turned smoothly, and vanished into the night.

"Huh? He just left?"

Nathaniel frowned in disbelief. "Isabella, who are these men chasing after you? Either they’re scoundrels or stalkers. How am I supposed to rest easy when you’re out there alone?"

"Let’s focus."

Isabella didn’t want to dwell on Adrian. She turned serious. "Nathaniel, what’s the update on Dominic’s side? Is he still refusing to talk?"

Nathaniel exhaled in frustration. "It might take more time. That bastard is more loyal than we thought. He’s devoted to Arabella. Anyone would think they’re married!"

"I expected that. He was willing to kill for her. Of course he wouldn’t crack easily."

Isabella crossed her arms, her gaze icy. "That’s why I told you to interrogate him my way. Break his will. When his defenses are weak, we strike—right at his feelings for Arabella."

"Isabella, whatever you need, we’re with you!" Nathaniel rubbed his hands together, eager to make them pay.

"But just having Dominic testify against Arabella isn’t enough."

Isabella clenched her fists, fury blazing in her eyes. "For all the humiliation my mother endured because of her, for all the pain she caused, I want her to suffer a hundred—no, a thousand times over!"

"Isabella, Nathaniel, I think we should dig deeper into Dominic and Arabella’s relationship."

Sebastian’s expression was stone-cold, his eyes sharp with logic. "Arabella ordering Dominic to hurt your mother must’ve been impulsive. The fact that one call from her could make him kill without hesitation means they’ve been in contact all these years. There are probably countless shady dealings no one knows about—all carried out by him on her behalf."

"Exactly. They might even have a secret love child. Reginald probably married a woman who’s been unfaithful this whole time and never even realized!" Nathaniel sneered.

Isabella took it as a joke—but couldn’t help considering it seriously.

If true, it would be the ultimate scandal. Arabella would never recover.

But Arabella, with her pride as Reginald’s wife—would she really stoop so low as to have an affair with a lowly extra?

"Hmph, if they really did have an affair, I hope Genevieve is the illegitimate child. Then this treacherous mother-daughter pair can be thrown out of the Vanderbilt family. Finally, justice for Mrs. Sinclair!" Preston gritted his teeth.

Isabella paused, then asked softly, "Sebastian, has Oliver contacted you? When is he bringing the Bright family’s son to Windsor Estates?"

"Oliver called. Said he’s still negotiating with the Bright heir. He’ll bring him to you as soon as possible."

Sebastian’s large hand gently squeezed her shoulder. "Don’t worry. You have me. Whatever you want, I’ll get it for you. Whatever you want to achieve, I’ll make it happen."

"And me! I’ll help too!" Nathaniel raised his hand eagerly, eyes sparkling.

"And me, Mrs. Sinclair." Preston gave her his usual warm smile.

Isabella’s heart softened. She leaned lightly against Sebastian’s shoulder, feeling some of her exhaustion fade.

Late that night, Dominic returned to his love nest with Genevieve, his expression troubled.

A light snow had begun to fall before he reached home. By the time his car pulled up to the villa, Lillian was already waiting at the door, holding a large black umbrella.

"Mr. Blackwood, you’re back."

Seeing him step out, she quickly bowed, shielding him from the snow while she stood exposed.

"Where’s Genevieve? Is she asleep?" Dominic asked urgently.

"She refused to sleep until you came home. I couldn’t persuade her."

Lillian smiled helplessly but fondly. "Don’t scold her. She was just worried about you."

Dominic’s throat tightened. Warmth spread through him as he strode inside.

Not wanting Genevieve to feel any chill, he changed into the pajamas Lillian had laid out downstairs, then crept upstairs, hoping to surprise his delicate wife.

He pushed the bedroom door open gently. The bedside lamp was still on, a half-read copy of The Nightingale and The Rose lying on the sheets—but Genevieve was nowhere in sight.

His heart skipped a beat. Just as he was about to call her name, he heard faint rustling from the bathroom.

Without hesitation, he moved toward the sound.

Suddenly, silence.

"Genevieve?!"

Ever since falling for her, Dominic had treasured her like a fragile bloom, constantly paranoid about her safety.

The sudden quiet terrified him. He lifted his leg and kicked the door open—nearly sending it off its hinges!

"Ahh!"

Genevieve, standing in front of the mirror, shrieked in fright. She clutched her head, spinning to face him—

Dominic froze, his Adam’s apple bobbing as a rough sound escaped him.

His heated gaze trailed down—from her delicate face to her damp, smooth skin, finally landing on the full, rounded curves of her chest.

They’d seemed modest under clothes. Now, exposed, they were lush and perfect.

His mind blanked. Lust darkened his eyes. His fingers twitched, aching to touch.

"Ahh!"

Recognizing him, Genevieve screamed again. She squeezed her eyes shut, arms crossing over her chest as she spun away.

But it was too late.

Naked and vulnerable, her slender back was now on full display—only making his pulse race faster.

"Genevieve, I—" Dominic’s voice was hoarse, his breathing ragged.

"I just showered. I didn’t know you’d be back." Trembling, her voice was both enticing and pitiful.

The steam-filled bathroom only heightened the tension between them.

Unable to resist, Dominic stepped forward, his forehead damp with sweat.