Chapter 718

The tables had turned in the most unexpected way.

Henry Lancaster had discovered a method to save Isabella—one that demanded the ultimate sacrifice. His own life.

Eleanor stood frozen, her carefully constructed plans crumbling before her eyes. This wasn't supposed to happen. Henry belonged to her.

If he gave his life for Isabella, everything would be lost. The Lancaster fortune, the title of Mrs. Lancaster—all of it would slip through her fingers like sand.

A villa? A few million? Pathetic.

She wanted everything.

And she would not let Isabella take it from her.

Eleanor stormed into Arabella's room without knocking. The girl was admiring herself in a new designer gown, one of dozens she had ordered this month alone.

Living as Henry Lancaster's daughter had spoiled her rotten.

Arabella shrieked and clutched the dress to her chest. "What the hell? I'm changing!"

Eleanor's lips curled in disgust. "Get dressed. Your little shopping sprees are about to end."

Arabella frowned, hastily pulling on the gown. "What are you talking about?"

"Henry is drafting his will."

Arabella's face paled. "What? Why? He's perfectly healthy!"

Eleanor's voice was ice. "He found a way to save Isabella. A life for a life. He's planning to trade his own."

Arabella's breath hitched.

No.

She hated Isabella. The woman should have died years ago.

"And do you know what's in that will?" Eleanor pressed.

Arabella's pulse quickened.

She was Henry's only blood relative. The Lancaster fortune would be hers.

The thought nearly made her laugh. If this was the price, then let him die!

Eleanor saw the greed flicker in Arabella's eyes and smirked. "Don't get excited. You're not in it."

Arabella froze. "What?"

Eleanor leaned closer. "Henry and Isabella never divorced. She's still his legal wife—his primary heir. He's leaving everything to her. As for you?" She scoffed. "He said if you can somehow win Isabella's favor, she might share a crumb with you. But we both know that will never happen."

She let the words sink in.

"You'll get nothing."

The words struck Arabella like a slap.

All these years of pretending, of playing the perfect daughter—for nothing?

Panic surged through her. She grabbed Eleanor's arm. "You have to help me! There has to be a way! That money is mine—it belongs to us!"

Eleanor smiled slowly. "There is a way. But you'll do exactly as I say."

Arabella's eyes gleamed. "Tell me."