Chapter 777

Eleanor's eyes burned with venom as she stared at Isabella.

"Are you satisfied now? You stole Henry from me! You took my rightful place as Mrs. Lancaster! Everything you possess should have been mine!"

Isabella's lips curled into an icy smirk. "You've truly lost touch with reality. Obsessing over my husband, resorting to Frostholm witchcraft to harm me—you orchestrated your own downfall!"

Eleanor rose slowly, her movements deliberate. "What if I did? Your own daughter despises you. She chooses me over you!"

Her gaze shifted to the young girl. "Do you want Isabella as your mother?"

The moment of truth had arrived.

Without hesitation, the girl moved to Eleanor's side. "Never."

Isabella felt her world fracture. This child—her and Henry's flesh and blood—kept shattering her heart with every betrayal.

Years of separation haunted Isabella. She carried the guilt of failing as a mother, of losing precious time she could never reclaim.

Now, watching her daughter align with this scheming woman—

"Enough!" the girl snapped.

"Victoria!" Isabella's voice broke as she reached out.

Henry's strong arms encircled his trembling wife.

"You're my birth parents, yet you've never loved me properly. Ms. Eleanor has always been there for me. If anything happens to me now, it's your fault. Your neglect pushed me to this," Victoria declared coldly.

"Victoria!" Isabella's face drained of color.

Eleanor's satisfaction swelled at Isabella's devastation. This was precisely her goal—to make Isabella suffer through the ultimate betrayal.

"Who do you choose as your mother?" Eleanor pressed.

Victoria answered immediately. "You."

"Good girl," Eleanor purred victoriously. "Say it properly now."

Isabella tried desperately to intervene. "Victoria!"

Henry fixed their daughter with a grave look. "Think carefully. This choice has permanent consequences."

Yet Victoria met Eleanor's gaze steadily. "Mother."

That single word shattered Isabella completely. Her knees buckled.

Henry tightened his embrace, feeling her body tremble violently against him. He pressed his warmth into her icy skin, willing strength into her broken spirit.

Rosalind glared at Victoria. "How could you betray your own mother?"

"You disgust me!" Beatrice spat.

Victoria remained unmoved. In her mind, survival meant clinging to Eleanor. Every move had been calculated—she wouldn't surrender now.

Eleanor's triumphant laughter filled the room. "Isabella, you've lost your daughter. Karma is beautiful, isn't it?"

Rosalind turned her fury on Eleanor. "You orchestrated everything! Twenty years ago you targeted Ms. Lancaster. Now you're after Nathaniel. You're pure evil. How did you learn Frostholm witchcraft?"

Eleanor's smirk widened. "I met a Frostholm master years ago. She recognized my potential and taught me everything."

Rosalind's expression darkened. "Just as I suspected. Break the curse now!"