Chapter 685

Isabella was seething with frustration. "I'm not ditching you! My father returned unexpectedly, and there's been a complication here."

The voice on the other end dripped with suspicion. "How do we know you're not lying? You promised extra payment, yet we haven't seen a dime. Now you're a no-show—what else should we assume?"

"I'll pay you more, just not tonight," Isabella snapped, her patience thinning. "Enough with the accusations! It's late, and my father's asleep. I'm on my way now."

A tense pause. "Fine. But you'd better actually show up this time."

"How are they?" Isabella demanded.

"Unharmed. We wouldn't dare act without your say-so."

Isabella clenched her teeth. If those fools hadn’t taken Victoria, she wouldn’t be scrambling like this. Charlotte would’ve been dealt with easily.

She ended the call and slipped out of her room, moving like a shadow through the silent Lancaster estate. The grand staircase creaked under her careful steps as she reached the front door.

The moment she turned the handle, black-suited guards materialized from the darkness. "Miss Lancaster."

Isabella recoiled. "What are you doing here?"

"Securing the premises. You’re not permitted to leave."

Her pulse spiked. "Since when?"

If she didn’t get out tonight, the kidnappers would spiral. She had to go.

The lead guard stood firm. "Apologies, but you’re confined to the estate."

"Unbelievable!" Isabella’s voice slashed through the night. "Do you forget who I am? The Lancaster heiress! Cross me, and I’ll have my father ruin every last one of you!"

The guards bowed but didn’t budge. "Our orders come directly from Mr. Lancaster. No exceptions."

Her father’s doing? Impossible.

She shoved past them. "Move. Now."

Then—a voice, cool and commanding, from above.

"Isabella."

She whirled. Henry Lancaster loomed on the balcony, his silhouette cutting against the moonlight.

Isabella’s fists trembled. "Why am I being treated like a prisoner? I’m leaving!"

Before Henry could respond, another voice floated down—light, yet laced with steel.

"Where could you possibly need to go at this hour?"

Harrison.

Of course.

Isabella’s nails bit into her palms. "You." Her accusation hissed through the air. "This is your doing, isn’t it? Poisoning my father against me?"

Harrison didn’t flinch. "I advised caution, yes."

Rage blurred Isabella’s vision. Even as the Lancaster heir, she still played second fiddle to Harrison’s whispers. Three years of freedom, obliterated the moment she returned.

"Father!" Isabella’s voice cracked. "How could you side with an outsider over your own blood?"

Henry’s gaze remained steady. "Tell me where you’re going. I’ll accompany you."

A trap.

Harrison’s smile was a knife twist. "Mr. Lancaster only worries for your safety. Surely you can share this urgent midnight errand?"

The question hung, sharp as a guillotine.

Who, indeed, was worth this risk?