Chapter 477

Margaret spoke first, her voice trembling with feigned grief. "The Whitmore family wishes to pay our respects at Benjamin's grave."

Harrison didn't stop them. She watched coldly as Margaret led the procession, each member bowing their heads in solemn silence for exactly sixty seconds.

"Hello, Benjamin. It's your mother," Margaret whispered, her fingers clutching the bouquet too tightly.

Theodore and Frederick joined in the charade. "We've come to see you, brother."

When the performance concluded, Margaret turned to Harrison with crocodile tears. "Blood binds us. Though Benjamin was adopted, he called me 'Mother'. Family shouldn't fight. Standing here before his resting place, can't we let bygones be bygones?"

Harrison's lips curled into a mirthless smile. "How touching. My father called you 'Mother', yet you poisoned your own child. You murdered him in cold blood, and now you dare ask for peace at his grave?"

Her piercing gaze swept across Theodore, Victoria, Frederick, and Cassandra one by one.

"Answer me honestly - if I weren't Dr. Sinclair, would any of you filthy vultures have bothered visiting my father's grave?"

The silence spoke volumes. These Whitmores hadn't suddenly grown consciences. They only came crawling because of her medical reputation.

Theodore cleared his throat awkwardly. "Must you be so hostile? Benjamin raised an exceptional daughter - Westfield's prodigy, the brilliant Dr. Sinclair. But must you point daggers at your own kin?"

Frederick chimed in with false warmth. "Show some family loyalty. You're still a Whitmore at heart."

Harrison's bitter laugh cut through the cemetery air. "I recall you disowning me quite publicly. If not for Father, I'd have discarded this cursed surname years ago!"

Margaret's face turned ashen with rage. "How dare you speak to us this way!"

Isabella chose that moment to intervene, her voice dripping with venom. "We've extended an olive branch, yet you spit on our kindness."

Harrison's eyes turned glacial. "Your 'kindness' reeks of hypocrisy."

Penelope's tone grew menacing. "Then consider us enemies from this moment forward."

Harrison's gaze sharpened like honed steel. "Remember this - Isabella's heart condition still requires my expertise. I can wait for justice to claim each of you, but how long can Isabella wait?"

Isabella smirked, a cat playing with its prey. "So certain of your leverage? What if I told you we've found a way to... persuade your cooperation?"

Harrison crossed her arms. "Do enlighten me."

Victoria stepped forward with a conspiratorial smile. "The power doesn't lie with Isabella or us. There's a far greater force behind our actions."

Harrison's brow furrowed slightly as the pieces clicked into place.

Victoria lowered her voice to a whisper. "You've already guessed, haven't you? It's Mr. Falcon."

As if summoned, a black Rolls-Royce Phantom glided to a halt. Dominic opened the rear door with practiced precision, and Nathaniel emerged - his towering frame and aristocratic bearing commanding immediate attention.

Nathaniel had arrived.

Isabella practically tripped over herself rushing forward. "Nathaniel, darling!"

But Nathaniel's piercing gaze locked onto Harrison, his voice a velvet-wrapped command. "You no longer have a choice regarding Isabella's treatment. It's no longer a request - it's a mandate."

Harrison met his stare unflinchingly.

"Explain yourself."