Chapter 771
Isabella's hands trembled as she faced Nathaniel. "W-why are you with her again?"
Nathaniel's arm tightened around Harrison's waist, his lips curling into a smirk. "Harrison has always been the one. We're getting married soon."
"But..." Isabella's voice cracked. "You invited me to dinner."
Nathaniel arched an eyebrow, feigning confusion. "That? Just idle chatter. Honestly, I'd forgotten all about it. Don't tell me you actually waited at The Grand View all day?"
The color drained from Isabella's face. His casual cruelty struck like a blade. This wasn't rejection—it was deliberate humiliation.
A melodic laugh cut through the tension. Rosalind stepped forward, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "See for yourself. Nathaniel's heart has always belonged to Harrison."
Isabella swallowed hard. "Is this true?"
Pain lanced through Nathaniel's skull like white-hot needles. His fingers dug into Harrison's shoulder as he fought to maintain his composure. Not here. Not in front of her.
His voice emerged steady. "Why ask questions you already know the answers to? Harrison is my everything."
Harrison's gaze lifted to meet his.
Ice flooded Isabella's veins. "But... being with her doesn't make you ill?"
Nathaniel's eyes turned glacial. "What are you implying?"
"I..."
Realization struck Isabella like lightning. She'd nearly mentioned the Heartchain Curse. Yet Nathaniel showed no signs of distress. Had the curse broken?
She needed to find Eleanor immediately. Without another word, she spun on her heel.
"Wait!" Rosalind's voice rang out.
Isabella froze. "What now?"
"Our bet." Rosalind's smile turned predatory. "You lost. You owe me—say 'Your Highness.'"
Isabella's nails bit into her palms. Never.
"Don't even think about refusing." Rosalind waved her phone. "I recorded everything. Back out now, and every socialite in Metropolia will know you're a sore loser."
Isabella's breath hitched. The scheming witch had planned this.
"Choose—public humiliation or two simple words?"
Muscles trembling, Isabella forced the words through clenched teeth. "Your Highness."
Rosalind cupped her ear. "What was that? You must be faint from starving all day at that restaurant."
"YOUR HIGHNESS!" Isabella snarled.
"Perfect!" Rosalind clapped delightedly.
With a final glare, Isabella stormed away. The moment she disappeared, Nathaniel's mask shattered.
Harrison's grip on his hand tightened. "Nathaniel?"
His complexion had turned ashen. "I..."
Rosalind rushed forward, taking in his pained expression. "What's wrong?"
Nathaniel watched Isabella's retreating figure until she vanished. Then his hand slipped from Harrison's shoulder—only for her to catch it firmly.
Harrison's clear eyes searched his face. "Talk to me."
Pain twisted his features. "I..."
Rosalind stepped closer, alarm flashing across her face. "Nathaniel? Are you ill?"