Chapter 561

Harrison nodded. "Yes, I can cure Isabella."

Henry's face brightened with relief. "That's wonderful!"

"However..." Harrison turned to face him. "I require a specific ingredient for the antidote."

"Name it. I'll have it procured immediately."

Harrison offered a faint smile. "I need the blood of Isabella's closest blood relative."

Blood from an immediate family member?

Victoria's expression shifted, her face paling.

Henry stepped forward without hesitation. "I'm her father. Take mine!"

"No!" Victoria suddenly shouted, panic lacing her voice. "You can't use Mr. Lancaster's blood!"

Harrison's sharp gaze locked onto Victoria. "Why not? Don't you want to save Isabella?"

The calculating glint in Harrison's eyes made Victoria realize she had overreacted. If Henry's blood was used, the truth about Isabella's parentage would be exposed.

She scrambled to redirect. "Mr. Lancaster, your health is too valuable to risk. Harrison, I question your medical judgment. Why insist on his blood? Are you trying to harm him—or Isabella?"

Harrison exhaled, her patience visibly thinning. "This is the only way. If you don't trust me, I'll leave."

Henry intervened, his voice firm. "I trust her. Use my blood."

"No, Mr. Lancaster! It can't be yours! Harrison, take mine instead!"

Harrison turned to Victoria, her tone edged with mockery. "Your blood is useless. Isabella isn't your daughter. I need her biological family's blood."

Victoria's eyes flickered, her lips pressing into a tight line. She had no rebuttal.

Henry remained resolute. "Proceed with mine."

Harrison nodded. "Very well, Mr. Lancaster. Roll up your sleeve. I'll prepare the syringe."

She stood, but a sudden wave of dizziness struck her. Her legs gave way, and she began to collapse.

"Harrison!"

Henry moved swiftly, catching her in his arms, his grip secure around her slender waist. His concerned gaze searched her face.

"Are you all right?"

Harrison, weakened from days of exhaustion, shook her head. "I'm fine."

Just then, a deep, commanding voice echoed from the doorway. "Harrison! Where are you?"

Nathaniel had arrived.

The butler rushed to intercept him. "Mr. Hawk, you can't enter—"

"What have you done to her? Move!" Nathaniel shoved past, his imposing frame storming into the room. "Harrison!"

He froze at the sight before him. Henry was holding Harrison in his arms, their proximity far too intimate for comfort.

Nathaniel's eyes darkened, his pulse spiking with a dangerous mix of fury and confusion. He had braced for hostility—given Isabella's connection to Henry, he feared Harrison might be in danger. But this? This was unexpected.

He strode forward, his long legs closing the distance in seconds. "What the hell is going on?"

His strong fingers wrapped around Harrison's wrist, attempting to pull her away.

But Henry's grip on her other arm held firm. Both men refused to let go, tension crackling between them.

Nathaniel's glare met Henry's, his voice low and dangerous. "Uncle Henry, release her."

Henry's lips curved in amusement. "And if I don't?"

Nathaniel's control snapped. "What are you playing at? Harrison is the same age as Isabella!"

Henry merely chuckled. "I'm aware. So?"