Chapter 716

Eleanor stood frozen in shock. "Henry, how could you strike Isabella? She's your own flesh and blood!"

Isabella pressed a trembling hand to her stinging cheek, her voice quivering. "You...you actually hit me? After everything, this is how you treat me?"

Henry's face turned deathly pale, his piercing gaze locked onto Isabella with icy precision.

"I've indulged you far too much. To think you'd dare speak against your own mother? Victoria gave you life—nearly lost hers bringing you into this world! And this is how you repay her? By demanding a replacement mother like some spoiled child? Have you no concept of family loyalty?"

Never before had Henry erupted with such fury.

Both Isabella and Eleanor were rendered speechless, the air thick with tension.

Tears spilled down Isabella's cheeks. "Father—"

"Don't call me that!" Henry snapped, his voice like a whip. "You've shattered my expectations." With that, he stormed upstairs, slamming the study door behind him.

Moments later, his butler arrived, slipping quietly into the study.

Panic clawed at Isabella's chest as she clutched Eleanor's arm. "I said everything you told me to, but why did he react like this? He never intended to marry you, did he?"

Eleanor didn't need the confirmation. The truth had been clear for years—if Henry had wanted her, he wouldn't have waited this long.

What stunned her was his fierce defense of Victoria. Could he truly...love her?

Steeling herself, Eleanor prepared a fresh cup of coffee and approached the study. She knocked softly. "It's me."

Henry's voice, though controlled, carried through the door. "Enter."

She pushed inside.

Henry sat behind his desk, the butler standing at attention nearby.

Eleanor set the coffee down carefully. "I've spoken with Isabella. She's your daughter—you shouldn't stay angry with her forever—"

Henry cut her off. "Eleanor, is there someone you wish to marry?"

Her spine stiffened.

His gaze never wavered.

"Your father died because of mine. I promised you a home here for as long as you desired. Over the years, I introduced you to countless suitable matches, yet you turned them all down. Time slipped through your fingers."

"I understand what you're implying," Eleanor interjected quickly. "Isabella misunderstood. You've sheltered me all these years, an orphan with nothing. I'm grateful."

"You were welcome here before. Now, you must leave."

Eleanor's breath hitched. "What? You're throwing me out?"

"I've transferred ownership of the Willowbrook villa to you," Henry stated calmly. "Along with sufficient funds to live comfortably for the rest of your days."

Confusion flickered across her face—until her eyes landed on the document atop his desk.

A will.

The word struck like a blade.

She stepped forward. "Why are you drafting a will?"

Henry's voice was steady, yet grim. "I've found a way to save Victoria. She carries the Frostholm Curse. Now, I will trade my life for hers—a life for a life."