Chapter 396

Isabella Sinclair gazed intently at Alexander Kingsley's striking features, his current smile radiating a warmth she'd never witnessed before.

She cleared her throat softly, quickly looking away as if meeting his sparkling eyes for another second would reveal some unspoken truth. The transformation in him was undeniable.

Once, Alexander had been as cold as the Arctic winter, an impenetrable fortress of ice.

Now he surrounded her like the first warmth of spring, offering an unexpected sense of security.

"Ahem, well."

Aaron Ashbourne, ever the bachelor, shattered the moment. "It's just a suit. Why bother washing it? Our family could buy Mr. Kingsley a hundred new ones. Isabella, just get him another. I'll cover it!"

"Generous as always, Captain Ashbourne." Alexander's lips curved slightly, his expression unreadable.

"Aaron, are you sure about that?"

Isabella arched an eyebrow, her mood lightening. "Unless I'm mistaken, Mr. Kingsley's suit is bespoke from a royal tailor. Even if available, your annual salary might only cover one sleeve."

Damn! That expensive?

Aaron's face fell instantly. "I take it back! Forget I said anything!"

Alexander's smile deepened as his gaze lingered on Isabella. "Only a genius designer like you would recognize such craftsmanship at a glance."

Isabella blinked in surprise. "When did you figure it out?"

"At Myra's birthday gala, when she wore that stunning evening gown. No—truthfully, I should have known the first time I saw you handling fabrics in Ms. Eunice's studio." His confession came with tender admiration.

Isabella bit her lower lip, eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

A storm of emotions churned within her—too complex, too raw to name.

Alexander suddenly remembered the tattered suit still preserved in his closet, the one Isabella had sewn for him stitch by stitch during their marriage. Each thread had been woven with love.

That devotion, that care—he might never receive it again.

He should have recognized then how extraordinary she was. But he'd been blind.

Seeing her sorrowful expression now shattered what remained of his already fractured heart.

The debt he owed her was immeasurable.

A lifetime might not be enough to repay it.

"Isabella, does Erica's phone hold crucial evidence? You seem desperate to recover it." Aaron's curiosity broke the silence.

Isabella nodded grimly. "Before she died, she whispered that her phone contained proof of Elspeth's crimes. Her final message to me."

A heavy silence fell over them.

Even in her last moments, the brave girl had thought not of herself, but of exposing evil to the light of justice.

"Then Elspeth must have killed her to keep that secret." Aaron's frown deepened.

"Exactly. The normally cautious Elspeth wouldn't have acted so recklessly otherwise. She needed Erica silenced permanently." Isabella's fists clenched, fury blazing in her eyes.

"And she dared target you!" Aaron slammed the table. "With five brothers and our father behind you? Without Dad's intervention, any one of us could make her regret being born!"

Alexander's calm eyes darkened like a lake under storm clouds.

What could drive Elspeth to such extremes?

Isabella's lips pressed into a bloodless line. "The hit on Erica was Elspeth's doing. But the attempt on my life? That reeks of Glynnis acting alone. Elspeth's too calculated for such rashness."

Logical.

Alexander gave a barely perceptible nod.

"Damn, isn't Glynnis Elspeth's daughter? Perfect—mother and daughter can share a prison cell!" Aaron spat, wishing he could throttle them both.

Isabella inhaled sharply, her gaze locking with Alexander's.

"—Elspeth killed Cynthia. The evidence is in my phone."

Alexander froze under her intense stare, confusion flickering across his face.

Isabella unlocked Erica's phone, scrolling through galleries—nothing. Then the voice recordings.

There.

Her breath hitched as she pressed play.

The audio was muffled, recorded in some confined space.

But in the silent room, every word rang clear.

Elspeth and Glynnis's damning conversation unfolded.

"—Mom! You need to cut ties with Victor! He's dangerous! Cynthia's secret must die with everyone who knows it!"

Alexander's pupils contracted violently.

Cynthia?

"—Impossible! After twenty years? Unless that wretched woman rises from the grave, no one knows what really happened!"

Isabella's heart pounded, fury igniting in her chest.

Aaron looked equally stunned—this involved Frederic's late wife?

No wonder Elspeth was desperate.

"Isabella." Alexander's voice was barely audible.

Tears welled in his usually bright eyes, more devastating than shattered glass.

"—What about Acacia?!"

Even Acacia was involved?

Isabella shuddered, realization dawning.

Alexander's mother's death was no accident—it was murder.

When she'd been Mrs. Kingsley, she'd asked Alva about his mother. The maid had always hesitated, saying Alexander disliked discussing it.

She'd said he hadn't always been so cold—once, he'd been a joyful boy.

His mother's death had destroyed that boy.

Twenty years. The victim dead, the murderer living in luxury.

Where was the justice?

"—She's nothing! Just keep tabs on that maid I bribed—"

"—Yes, she's in R city, running a diner. She owes us; she'll stay silent."

"—Good. That bitch died consumed by guilt. Her son will never know the truth. Whenever I think of that bastard being fooled, it eases all my suffering!"

CRASH!

Alexander stood abruptly, chair toppling, his entire body radiating lethal fury. "I'll kill her."

Isabella recoiled at the raw hatred in his bloodshot eyes.

She'd never seen him like this—a man pushed beyond breaking.

His lips trembled; the pain of this revelation was worse than being flayed alive.

"I'll kill Elspeth. Everyone involved in my mother's death—I'll send them all to hell!"

He lunged for the door.

"Alexander! Stop!"

Isabella threw her arms around him from behind, clinging desperately.

"Aaron's right!" She pressed against his back, feeling his ragged breaths. "Murder isn't the answer! Stay rational! Elspeth deserves to die, but not by your hand! What would happen to me if you—?"

Her words, especially the last, struck like a tranquilizer.

Gradually, his breathing steadied.

But she didn't loosen her grip.

She understood his pain too well.

After an eternity, Alexander's cold hand covered hers. "Isabella... I'm sorry. I scared you."

Her heart ached. Even now, he apologized?

"You've done nothing wrong," she whispered.

"But what do I do?" Tears streamed down his face. "The murderer lived under my roof for twenty years, and I never knew. Tell me—how else can I avenge my mother?"

"Hold on. It's almost over." Her hand soothed his trembling back. "I want Elspeth and Glynnis to suffer too. I'm with you, Alexander. Whatever dangers come, we'll face them together. We'll watch them burn."

Alexander closed his eyes, gripping her hand like a lifeline.

This wasn't a vow before God, but it was truer than any oath.

They stood united—not for love, but for vengeance.

Yet Alexander found solace in that.

Mother, if you're watching... bless me now.