Chapter 357

Isabella heard the heavy footsteps approaching from behind, but she couldn't bring herself to turn around. Instead, she wrapped her arms around her delicate shoulders, trembling like a startled fawn.

The sound only made Alexander seem more imposing—like a predator ready to strike.

"Isabella." His voice was rough, his eyes tinged with red.

His hand lifted, trembling with restraint, aching to touch her porcelain skin. Just then, Isabella murmured, "I just showered. I still need to apply lotion. I couldn't reach my back. Otherwise, I would've been in bed... waiting for you."

Alexander's breath hitched. His fingertips burned. Every nerve in his body screamed.

He'd seen countless women before—some brazen, others desperate. None had ever made his pulse race like this, leaving him utterly undone.

"Alexander... will you help me?" Isabella's voice was barely a whisper, her shoulders quivering.

"May I?"

His voice was thick with need. Isabella bit her lower lip, then slowly lowered her arms and nodded.

Alexander's heart hammered as he reached for the bottle. He squeezed the lotion into his palm, then carefully smoothed it over her flawless skin with his large, veined hands.

"I won't do anything. I won't."

This was his ultimate test.

He repeated the mantra in his head, fighting the fire in his veins. But the moment his fingers brushed her, restraint shattered. He yanked her against him, his gaze molten with hunger.

"Alexander." Her voice was breathless, cheeks flushed like she'd drunk too much wine.

"Don't say my name." His rough tone sent shivers down her spine.

"Alexander."

"Say it again, and I can't promise I'll stop."

"Alexander."

The next second, she was lifted off her feet.

Alexander's strong hands gripped her waist, seating her on the edge of the bathtub where a towel had been conveniently placed. Her hips settled perfectly against it.

Isabella turned crimson, her lips parting in a silent gasp.

His rough touch left faint marks on her skin, spreading like wildfire across her trembling body.

A soft whimper escaped her.

She clutched at his toned waist for balance, her arms winding around his neck.

Alexander's mind went blank. He crushed his mouth to hers, kissing her with a desperation that bordered on violence.

It had been too long. His kiss was fierce, almost punishing. Isabella melted into him, her lips and tongue aching—yet the pain only heightened the pleasure coursing through her.

"Isabella... if you want me to stop, bite me."

He pulled back just enough to speak, his breath hot against her lips.

The steam in the bathroom had long since faded. Now, sweat glistened on his skin as if they'd already made love.

"If you don't want this—"

Before he could finish, Isabella sank her teeth into his lower lip, then kissed him back with clumsy sweetness.

Ecstasy flooded him. She hadn't spoken, but her answer was clear—in the blush on her ears, the love in her eyes, the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

That night, they loved each other—from the bathroom to the living room, and finally, the bed.

Isabella's soft, delicate skin drove him wild.

He'd never felt so fulfilled—body and soul.

Exhausted, Isabella collapsed against his chest, her slender frame trembling.

Alexander, sated like a lion after a feast, watched her with lazy satisfaction.

One arm held her close, his hand gently stroking her back. The other lifted the sheets.

A single crimson bloom stood stark against the white fabric.

He couldn't help but smile, his heart swelling. He kissed her again, deeply, possessively.

"Mmm... tickles." She barely stirred, lost in sleep.

"Isabella... you're mine now."

He nuzzled her hair, fingertips tracing the curve of her arm. His whisper was a vow: "The hard days are over. I'll love you forever... Mrs. Kingsley."

The sharp crack of the slap echoed in Seraphina's ears, loosening a tooth.

How much hatred did he have to hit her that hard?

Vanessa rushed Seraphina to the hospital. The entire ride, Seraphina clutched her face, spewing curses at Evelyn and Nathaniel. The more she ranted, the angrier—and more painful—it became.

The driver stared, stunned, in the rearview mirror.

Who would believe the usually poised Mrs. Lockwood could be this vicious?

"What are you looking at?!"

Vanessa caught his gaze and snapped, "Drive and keep your mouth shut! If word of this gets out, your family won't survive in Elmhurst!"

"Y-Yes, Ms. Lockwood!" The driver paled and focused on the road.

"Useless girl! All my love wasted on you!"

With no one else to vent on, Seraphina jabbed Vanessa's forehead hard, making her stumble. "You just stood there while that brat Evelyn humiliated me? Not a single word from you!"

"I couldn't win against Evelyn! Interfering would've backfired!"

Vanessa clenched her fists. "Why blame me? What about Isabella? She's off fooling around with men while you suffer! What does Mr. Kingsley even see in her? He must be blind!"

"Ha! You dare compare yourself to your sister? She snagged Alexander without lifting a finger! Being his mother-in-law is an honor—far better than your pathetic groveling!" Seraphina's disdain was palpable.

She'd tried to deny it, but Vanessa was hopeless. No matter how she was raised, her lowly nature couldn't be erased. She was worse than Seraphina's defective child with Reginald!

If only she'd focused on Isabella sooner. What a waste!

At the hospital, after treatment, Seraphina was admitted.

She lay in bed, her cheek swollen, her ear throbbing too much to sleep. Fear gnawed at her.

She dreaded Evelyn uncovering her affair with Adrian. Worse—the truth that Vanessa's real father wasn't Reginald, but Adrian.

If that got out, they were finished.

Seraphina stayed three days, Vanessa by her side.

By the third day, the swelling had faded—but Reginald never came.

Vanessa called repeatedly, asking when he'd visit. His replies were cold dismissals.

She expected Seraphina to break down. What woman wouldn't crumble if her husband abandoned her in the hospital?

But Seraphina remained eerily calm. No tears. No outbursts. Just... normal.

It unsettled Vanessa.

In her memory, Seraphina couldn't live without Reginald.

Now, staring at her mother's icy expression, Vanessa wondered if she'd ever loved him at all.

"Mom, Dad hasn't come in three days. Aren't you worried?"

"Men are all the same. The more you cling, the more they pull away. Indifference is the only way." Seraphina smiled, but her mind raced.

She hadn't contacted Reginald—not out of pride, but fear.

She was ready to leave, but she stayed, hiding under the guise of recovery.

That night with Evelyn, she'd seen the suspicion in Reginald's eyes.

She needed time to think—to salvage this.

Just then, the door opened.

"Wait outside. I'll see my wife alone."

"Yes, Mr. Lockwood."

At Reginald's voice, both women froze.

Seraphina grabbed her compact, dusting her lips pale to appear frail.

As he entered, she slumped weakly against the pillows, eyes brimming with tears.

"Vanessa, I'm so thirsty. Could you...?"

The tears fell on cue, reminding Vanessa of that deceitful woman, Lillian, who'd vanished without a trace.

"Dad! You're here!" Vanessa feigned surprise.

Reginald's gaze locked onto Seraphina. His expression was unreadable, but his stare made her skin crawl.

"Vanessa, you've done enough. A maid will take over. Go home and rest."

"Of course. Mom, Dad... I'll go."

Vanessa shot Seraphina a meaningful look before slipping out.

"Ms. Lockwood, let me drive you." The bodyguard offered.

"No. Give me the keys. I need to clear my head."

Vanessa headed to the parking garage, frustration simmering.

Three days in that sterile hellhole left her craving a hot bath and new clothes.

As she reached her car, a sharp pain pierced her neck.

"Ah—!"

Darkness swallowed her.

Behind her, Natalia's cold smile appeared.

"Take her away."

Two shadows emerged, dragging Vanessa into the night.