Chapter 705

Eleanor seethed with a white-hot rage toward Isabella.

That woman had stolen everything rightfully hers—Henry and the prestigious title of Mrs. Lancaster should have been Eleanor's by birthright!

Meanwhile, Henry returned to the private dining suite at The Grand View.

Arabella glanced up, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "Where did Mom go?"

"She had urgent matters to attend to," Henry replied smoothly, his voice betraying nothing.

"What? She left?" Arabella's lower lip trembled in a practiced pout, her expression the perfect blend of wounded innocence and childish petulance. "Why didn't she say goodbye?"

Henry studied his daughter—or the girl he had believed to be his daughter—with newfound scrutiny. Before Isabella's return, he'd never questioned Arabella's parentage. But now, doubt slithered through his mind like a venomous serpent.

He should have demanded a DNA test years ago.

Yet his face remained an unreadable mask. If Arabella truly was his blood, he couldn't risk her sensing his suspicions. And if she wasn't... well, that was an even greater reason for caution.

Composure was paramount.

"Have you finished eating?" Henry asked gently. "If so, we should head home."

Arabella nodded, satisfaction curling through her. Tomorrow, she would officially begin her position at Lancaster Enterprises.

Her gaze flicked to Harrison, who had been silently picking at her meal in the corner since arrival, maintaining an artful invisibility.

"Are you done?" Arabella's voice dripped with false sweetness. "We're leaving now. Surely you're not expecting to come with us?"

Harrison set down her fork with deliberate calm. "Thank you for dinner. I'll be returning to my own home."

Arabella shot her a razor-sharp glare before turning back to Henry. "Let's go."

Henry nodded at Harrison. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

As they stepped into the Lancaster family's sprawling villa half an hour later, Arabella made for the grand staircase.

"Arabella." Henry's voice stopped her.

She turned. "Yes?"

He reached out, tucking an imaginary strand of hair behind her ear—his fingers lingering just long enough. "Nothing. Sleep well."

The moment Arabella disappeared upstairs, the head butler materialized at Henry's side like a shadow.

"Mr. Lancaster."

Henry opened his palm, revealing a single dark hair. The butler produced a sterile evidence bag without a word.

"Have this tested immediately," Henry commanded as he sealed the strand inside. "I want results by tomorrow morning."

"Understood, sir."

Dawn painted the sky when Arabella awoke, her mood buoyant. Isabella's return had gone precisely as planned, and today marked her triumphant entry into Lancaster Enterprises.

She imagined the power she'd wield—perhaps Isabella would hand her the reins of their premier jewelry division today itself.

After applying meticulous makeup and selecting a dress that whispered elegance, Arabella descended to find Eleanor waiting in the sunlit foyer.

"Good morning, darling. The chef prepared your favorite—"

"I'm not hungry." Arabella's voice was glacial. "I'm going to Mother's company. Save your pathetic attempts at bonding. I've never liked you, and I won't have Mother getting the wrong idea."

Eleanor stiffened as if struck. "What's come over you?"

A knife-edged smile curved Arabella's lips. "Mrs. Whitmore, drop the act. We both know you've been scheming to marry Father. But Mother's back now—and my loyalty lies with blood."