Chapter 109

What? Nathaniel was sending Harrison to which university?

Willowridge University?

Had he completely lost his mind?

Willowridge was among the most prestigious institutions in the country—what qualifications did Harrison possess to attend there?

Isabella's expression darkened as she processed this information. "Nathaniel, Harrison dropped out at sixteen. She's just some country bumpkin who only knows how to seduce men. How could someone like her possibly belong at Willowridge?"

Nathaniel's gaze remained steady, his silence speaking volumes. His decision was final—Harrison would attend Willowridge University, and there would be no further discussion.

Isabella quickly adjusted her approach. They'd only just reconciled; now wasn't the time for confrontation. Besides, someone like Harrison would only humiliate herself at such an elite institution. Eventually, Nathaniel would grow tired of her incompetence.

All Isabella needed to do was wait and watch the inevitable disaster unfold.

With practiced sweetness, Isabella smiled. "Of course, Nathaniel. I trust your judgment completely."

Nathaniel reached out, affectionately pinching Isabella's nose. "That's my girl."

Beaming, Isabella melted into his embrace.

Meanwhile, Harrison returned to the Falcon family estate, waiting in her bedroom for Nathaniel's return.

Hours dragged by. Not until midnight did twin beams of light pierce through the darkness as Nathaniel's Rolls Royce Phantom finally appeared.

Harrison assumed he'd spent all this time at the hospital with Isabella—hence the late return.

The bedroom door creaked open, Nathaniel entering with an icy presence that chilled the air.

"How's Isabella?" Harrison asked, looking up.

Tall and commanding, Nathaniel smoothly removed his suit jacket. "Just superficial injuries. No broken bones."

Harrison's expression didn't change. "Naturally, she wouldn't risk actual harm."

Nathaniel turned, his dark eyes meeting Harrison's calm gaze. "I know you didn't push her. Isabella threw herself down those stairs."

Harrison remained silent, waiting.

Nathaniel's chiseled features flickered in the dim light, unreadable. "I can't allow her to take another fall."

Harrison nearly laughed. Isabella was nothing if not clever—especially when manipulating Nathaniel.

This wasn't about framing Harrison. Isabella had simply needed Nathaniel to witness her "accident."

Mission accomplished.

She'd secured his concern, his guilt. Nathaniel was wrapped securely around her finger once more.

Harrison met Nathaniel's gaze evenly. "You have something to tell me."

Nathaniel studied her—the quiet grace of her posture, so different from Isabella's dramatic presence. Harrison stood composed, intelligent. She'd already deduced his purpose.

Clearing his throat, Nathaniel's voice dropped to a murmur. "Isabella insists we no longer share a bedroom."

Isabella had forbidden them from sleeping together.

The words struck like a physical blow. Pain flared sharp and sudden in Harrison's chest, lingering like a slow poison.

She could practically hear Isabella's triumphant whisper: "Getting too confident, Harrison? Let me remind you of your place."

And she had. Perfectly.

Harrison's flawless face revealed nothing, though her complexion paled slightly. Long lashes lowered as she spoke softly, "I'll move out tonight. I'll speak with Eleanor. I won't be returning."

She turned to leave.

Nathaniel caught her wrist, his grip firm yet gentle. "It's late. Stay until morning." His voice softened. "I'll sleep in the study."

Harrison fought back bitter amusement. A few words from Isabella, and Nathaniel transformed into a paragon of virtue.