Chapter 548

Nathaniel studied Harrison's resolute gaze and exhaled deeply, his resistance crumbling at last.

"Fine. If this is truly your wish, then I'll stand by you. Rest assured—Nathaniel will marry you."

"Are you certain? He doesn't seem eager to take that step yet."

Henry Lancaster offered her a steadying smile. "The agreement between our families isn't something Nathaniel can disregard. The Falcon dynasty would never permit him to wed anyone else. The title of Mrs. Falcon is yours by right."

Harrison's eyes sparkled with triumph. "That's perfect! Thank you, Father!"

Victoria, ever the opportunist, chimed in smoothly. "Mr. Lancaster, it's obvious Mr. Falcon has developed feelings for Isabella. To secure our position, perhaps we should... intervene."

Henry paused, considering. "I'll contact Nathaniel's mother, Victoria. Once she learns about Isabella..."

He left the thought unfinished, but the implication was clear.

If Victoria Hawk discovered Isabella stood between her son and the Lancaster-Falcon union, she would ensure the girl vanished without a trace.

Harrison and Victoria exchanged knowing glances, lips curving in unison.

"Father," Harrison urged eagerly, "call Mrs. Victoria now."

Henry retrieved his phone. "Very well. I'll do it immediately."

Nathaniel carefully settled Isabella into the plush interior of his Rolls-Royce Shadow, with Rosalind slipping into the seat behind them.

Isabella turned to him, worry shadowing her features. "Mr. Falcon, you shouldn't risk straining relations with the Lancasters because of me."

His voice was steel wrapped in velvet. "I will never marry Harrison."

Isabella remained silent.

A melodic chime cut through the car—Victoria's name flashing across the screen. Nathaniel glanced at it, then let the call go unanswered.

Isabella caught the name. "Your mother?"

He nodded.

"Then why aren't you answering?"

Their eyes locked.

Hers were clear pools of quiet understanding. "It's alright. Take the call."

She already knew what was coming.

Nathaniel stepped out of the car and accepted the call.

Rosalind peered through the window at his retreating figure before turning to Isabella. "Have you heard much about Nathaniel's mother?"

Isabella shook her head.

Rosalind's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper.

"Victoria Hawk comes from old aristocracy. She married Nathaniel's father in a grand society wedding, but he never stopped loving another woman. The night she went into labor with Nathaniel, that woman called—and he abandoned Victoria at the hospital to find her."

Isabella's breath caught.

Rosalind continued, "Victoria hemorrhaged during childbirth. She nearly died bringing Nathaniel into the world. Though she survived, her legs never recovered. She's been wheelchair-bound ever since."

Isabella's fingers tightened around the seat leather. She'd known nothing of this.

"In her prime," Rosalind murmured, "she became a prisoner of that chair. Years passed. Her spirit turned inward. All her ambitions, all her dreams—she poured them into Nathaniel. Raised him with relentless discipline. Molded him into perfection."

A beat.

"And he's never once disobeyed her."

Isabella absorbed this quietly before turning to watch Nathaniel through the glass. His posture was rigid as Victoria's razor-sharp voice carried through the phone:

"Henry Lancaster just informed me you're with someone called Isabella."