Chapter 244

Isabella's rage burned so intensely that her nails carved crescent moons into her palms, yet the physical pain was nothing compared to the inferno inside her.

Victoria's expression darkened like gathering storm clouds. Her sharp gaze fell upon Daphne, still kneeling before her. "Is this truly your best effort? If you can't even handle Harrison, then you're utterly worthless to me."

Daphne's hands trembled. "I—I can fix this! I have a new strategy to deal with her!"

A cold laugh escaped Victoria's lips. "Prove it. Now get out of my sight."

Scrambling to her feet, Daphne fled like a frightened rabbit.

"Mother, why let her go?" Isabella demanded, frustration lacing every word.

Victoria's lips curled into a calculating smile. "Nathaniel still doesn't know Harrison was the woman from that night. We'll use Daphne as our puppet to dismantle her. Let them tear each other apart while we watch from the shadows."

Isabella inhaled deeply, the logic settling her fury. Nathaniel remained oblivious—Harrison's secret was still safe.

There was still time.

"You're brilliant, Mother."

Victoria pulled Isabella into a tender embrace. "My darling, I would move heaven and earth for your happiness. If Harrison dares stand in your way, I'll ensure she vanishes without a trace."

To Isabella, Victoria wasn't just a stepmother—she had become the mother she'd always longed for. Their bond, forged through shared ambition, ran deeper than blood.

"Why are you so good to me?" Isabella whispered, emotion thickening her voice.

Victoria stroked her hair lovingly. "Because you're my daughter."

The hunger for revenge flared in Isabella's chest. Harrison's own mother couldn't care less about her! Victoria's devotion belonged to Isabella alone—she was the daughter Victoria truly cherished.

Isabella beamed, sweetness dripping from her voice. "You're the best, Mother!"

Nathaniel returned to Emerald Heights. The moment he stepped inside, a maid rushed forward. "Mr. Falcon."

His gaze drifted to the living room sofa—the very spot where, weeks ago, two bodies had tangled in desperate passion. One hard and unyielding, the other soft and pliant, fitting together like pieces of a puzzle.

Who had that woman been?

Was it Harrison?

The thought made his stomach twist. That night, the woman had given him her innocence.

Did Harrison even still possess hers?

Then—something glinted beneath the sofa. He crouched, retrieving a slender silver needle.

Harrison's needle. The one she always carried.

How had it ended up here?

The answer crashed over him like a tidal wave. That night hadn't been a dream.

Harrison had been there.

This needle was irrefutable proof.

The woman from that night—the one who'd haunted his thoughts—was Harrison.

Nathaniel yanked out his phone, dialing with trembling fingers.

Alexander answered on the second ring. "Nathaniel?"

His grip tightened around the device. "Alexander. I need to ask you something."

"Go ahead."

"Have you ever slept with Harrison?"

Silence. Then Alexander's voice turned icy. "Nathaniel, I've never even held her hand. How could you ask me that?"

A pause. Then, softer: "Harrison is a good woman. She deserves respect. I hope you'll treat her well."

So they'd never been intimate.

Which meant—

The morning-after pill. The allergic reaction. Collapsing in the nurse's office. The marks on her skin. None of it had been Alexander's doing.

It had all been him.

Nathaniel's breath hitched as the truth slammed into him.

There had never been anyone else.

It had always been him.

That night was real. Their first time—raw, passionate, unforgettable—had been real.

Nathaniel stood frozen, one hand braced against his hip. His chest rose and fell unevenly as the magnitude of his mistakes settled over him.