Chapter 394

Only Isabella and Oliver Sinclair in the entire Sinclair family dared to speak with such reckless audacity.

The bodyguards couldn't suppress their laughter, amplifying Nathan's humiliation.

Sebastian Kingsley arched a brow discreetly. The usually composed Mr. Prescott was unraveling before their eyes.

And if he claimed he took no satisfaction in that, he'd be lying.

"I'm here to check on Isabella. Must Oliver be so hostile?" Nathan's tailored suit did little to mask his rising fury, his chest heaving. "Just say you're here for her. Why drag William into this?"

Oliver's disdain was palpable as he leveled Nathan with a cold stare. "He's not your father, and we're not children anymore. Spare us the theatrics."

Nathan's expression darkened, his brows knitting together.

But Nathan was no ordinary man. His years of hardship in Seattle had forged a resilience in him, an ability to adapt swiftly.

He exhaled, softening his tone. "Oliver, I meant no offense. I'm just concerned about her. I heard she was injured. I only want to see how she's doing."

"Our family kept this quiet. Impressive how quickly you caught wind of it, Mr. Prescott." Oliver's sharp eyes narrowed, laced with sarcasm. "But Isabella is still recovering. The doctor advised against stress. She can't see you. Leave."

Nathan refused to yield. "Oliver—"

"One more thing. Even if you brought William, it wouldn't change a thing. Don't waste your time."

Oliver flashed Sebastian a grin. "Seb, let's go."

Seb?

Sebastian stiffened at the unexpected familiarity.

A chill ran down his spine.

"What are you waiting for? Move!" Oliver clapped Sebastian's back.

"Right, brother-in-law," Sebastian drawled.

Oliver's brows shot up.

Once he adjusted to the dynamic, he found it... oddly satisfying.

Especially the way Sebastian said it.

Nathan's chest tightened, his face paling.

He had no idea what had transpired in the past few days—how Sebastian had managed to win Oliver over when he himself had failed.

Suddenly, Oliver paused. "Mr. Prescott, you should know—forcing things never ends well. Some things, some people, aren't yours no matter how hard you try. Besides, you already have a beautiful woman by your side. She must be your type, or you wouldn't keep her so close, right?"

Nathan's breath hitched, fists clenching, heart pounding.

His eyes burned as he watched Oliver and Sebastian disappear down the hall, the weight of their words crushing him.

"Mr. Prescott."

The oppressive aura of the Sinclair heir left Nathan's assistant sweating. "What did Mr. Kingsley mean by that? The 'beautiful woman'—was he referring to Ms. Archer?"

Who else could it be?

But Nathan's greater concern was that Oliver already knew about the woman in Elmsworth who bore an uncanny resemblance to Isabella—and that she was by his side.

"Did Oliver see me that night at the bar with Elsie?" Nathan's voice was low, dangerous.

"You said the bar was too public, so you stayed in the car. He couldn't have seen you."

Harvey replied quickly, "Mr. Prescott, maybe he's bluffing? Your car's plates trace back to Prescott Group. He could be provoking you."

"Let's go." Nathan gritted his teeth.

"Where to, Mr. Prescott?"

"The Velvet Haven."

Sebastian and Oliver stood outside Isabella's hospital room.

"Thanks for earlier." Sebastian's voice carried rare sincerity.

"Don't mention it. Consider it payback for the 'brother-in-law' bit." Oliver smirked. "Besides, I wasn't just helping you. Putting Nathan in his place is always satisfying—and using you was the perfect way to do it."

He chuckled at the memory of Nathan's stunned face.

"I don't mind." Sebastian's lips twitched.

"I can't stand that Prescott bastard. Always riding on others' coattails. Bringing up William was a low blow. He’s all polish, no substance. No wonder his family doesn’t respect him."

Oliver shot Sebastian a teasing look. "You should thank him, really. He makes you look good by comparison."

Sebastian blinked.

So... he owed Nathan gratitude now?

"Mr. Kingsley."

A weak voice interrupted them.

Both men turned, startled. "Jason?"

A few steps away, Jason limped toward them, one arm in a cast, the other gripping a crutch.

Sebastian reacted instantly, striding forward to support him.

"Thank you, Mr. Kingsley," Jason murmured.

"Don't mention it. I should be thanking you for protecting Isabella." Sebastian's tone was casual, but his voice held depth.

"No need. Protecting Miss Sinclair is my duty." Jason's gaze was steady.

He'd do it all over again. No regrets.

After this ordeal, Jason's hostility toward Sebastian had eased. After all, Sebastian had saved Isabella—again.

"Jason! Are you trying to lose that arm? Who told you to get up?!" Oliver snapped.

"Do you know how close you were to losing it? William flew in the country's top surgeon for a two-day bone graft to save it. If you don’t care about your arm, at least respect his effort."

"Mr. Kingsley—"

"If you don’t listen, I’m calling your parents to babysit you." Oliver wasn’t joking.

Jason paled. "Mr. Kingsley, I—I keep dreaming about that night. I need to see Miss Sinclair."

"She's fine. The wound on her arm is healing. She just needs time alone." Oliver sighed.

Sebastian thought of Isabella's injury, bitterness flooding his mouth.

They'd been divorced a year, yet she kept getting hurt. He’d failed to protect her.

Risking his life for her meant nothing if he couldn’t keep her safe.

"I heard about Erica." Jason's voice was thick with grief. "Any news on that monster?"

"Not yet. I’ve been watching Elspeth and Glynnis. Elspeth went out tonight—probably meeting Ward. My men should report back soon."

Sebastian's eyes darkened. "Rest assured, I want him dead more than anyone. I looked into him. He’s killed before—not just Erica. Elspeth’s been covering his tracks."

"Elspeth’s wasted talent playing stepmom to you." Oliver scoffed. "Your family’s a den of vipers."

Jason shook his head. "More like a spider’s web."

"I’ll have to thank Elspeth if I see her tomorrow." Oliver smirked.

Sebastian frowned. "Thank her?"

"For not killing Isabella during those three years of marriage." Oliver’s tongue was sharp.

Back in their military days, he’d been the quiet one. Clearly, that had been an act.

Just then, the door opened, startling them.

Isabella stood there, dressed in her usual black suit, no makeup, yet breathtaking.

"Isabella?!"

"Miss Sinclair!"

Sebastian’s ears burned, heart racing.

He nearly called her name but hesitated.

In the chaos, he’d had reason to hold her close. Now, what excuse did he have?

"Jason, are you okay?" Isabella’s gaze locked on his injured shoulder, voice thick.

"I’m fine, Miss Sinclair."

Jason tried to lift his arm but winced. "I’ll recover soon. Then I’ll be back at your side."

"Once you’re healed, you won’t be my secretary anymore."

"Miss Sinclair, are you firing me?" Jason’s lips trembled as he stumbled toward her. "I know I’m not the best at combat, but I’ll train—"

Isabella smiled faintly. "I’m taking over William’s position at K Group. I want you to lead the legal department. You’ll still be helping me and Dad. Isn’t that better?"

To anyone else, it would be a promotion.

But Jason looked like a abandoned puppy.

To him, she was pushing him away.

She didn’t realize what he truly wanted—to stay by her side, always.

But after this, he knew he couldn’t protect her.

The only one who could was Sebastian.

Jason’s eyes welled as he glanced at Sebastian, who was staring at Isabella like she was his entire world.

"Focus on healing first." Isabella composed herself, forcing a bright smile. "K Group doesn’t need dead weight."

Jason nodded heavily, knowing her mind was made up.

"Oliver, is Erica’s body still at the morgue?" Isabella’s voice was hoarse.

"Yes. We brought her grandmother to Elmsworth yesterday. She begged us for justice."

Oliver’s expression darkened.

"Give Erica a proper funeral. And support her family—financially, emotionally. Whatever they need."

"Understood."

Oliver studied her. "You’re leaving the hospital? William will skin me alive."

"Lying here won’t change anything. Did you fix the phone?"

Oliver blinked. "It’s repaired. But I didn’t do it."

"Who did?"

"Aaron. Erica’s phone was evidence—sent to forensics. He said it’d be ready today."

Isabella’s gaze darkened as she stepped toward Sebastian, locking eyes with him.

Sebastian’s pulse spiked, fingers curling into his palm.

"Sebastian, come with me to the police station."

Her stare was intense, piercing his soul. "We need to cooperate with the investigation. And there’s something important I have to tell you."