Chapter 9

No one wanted her there—they were all determined to push her out.

Harrison found it almost amusing. Her icy gaze flickered over Isabella, Victoria, and Theodore before she jerked her arm free from Nathaniel's grasp.

A faint smirk curved her lips. "Fine. I'll go."

Remember this—you're the ones sending me away.

Without another word, she turned and walked off.

But moments later, she returned. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she asked, "Mr. Falcon, do you know why I came to the naturopathy center today?"

Nathaniel's eyes lingered on her flawless complexion, the soft glow of sunlight catching the delicate peach fuzz on her skin, making her ethereal beauty impossible to ignore.

His expression remained cold, indifferent. "Harrison, you're testing my patience."

She stepped closer, her smile dazzling.

"I came to help you find a specialist." She pulled a small card from her pocket and handed it to him. "Here. This might be useful."

Nathaniel glanced down at the slightly aged card—the kind that might be slipped under a door.

It read: Traditional Naturopath—Specializing in ED, premature ejaculation, infertility, and restoring masculine vitality. Contact: 138XXXX8888.

For the first time, his stoic mask cracked.

Harrison tucked the card into his suit pocket. "Isabella has her issues, Mr. Falcon. But you? You should get checked too."

She turned and left before he could respond.

Nathaniel's hand clenched at his side. This woman knew exactly how to provoke him.

Isabella broke the silence. "Nathaniel, forget her. She's not worth your anger."

Victoria nodded. "Exactly. Where is Dr. Sinclair? He should be here by now."

The mention of the renowned physician sent a ripple of tension through the room. He was Isabella's last hope.

Nathaniel checked his watch. The scheduled time had passed, but there was no sign of Dr. Sinclair.

Just then, a nurse entered. "Mr. Falcon."

Isabella, Theodore, and Victoria straightened. "Is Dr. Sinclair here?"

The nurse addressed Nathaniel. "Dr. Sinclair arrived earlier but has already left."

What?

Nathaniel scanned the hallway but saw no one—only Harrison disappearing around the corner.

His frown deepened. "I didn't see him."

The nurse hesitated. "He came, but... he chose not to stay."

"Why?" Isabella's face paled. Theodore and Victoria looked equally stunned. "Why wouldn't he treat me?"

The nurse lowered her voice. "I'm sorry. He refused to take Miss Isabella's case."

Isabella's breath hitched. Dr. Sinclair—refusing her?

Their hope shattered like glass.

Isabella's composure broke. "Why? Why won't he help me?"

Theodore and Victoria rushed to console her. "We'll fix this, Isabella. We'll bring him back!"

Nathaniel's jaw tightened, his gaze fixed on the empty hallway. His presence alone radiated danger.

Outside the hospital, a voice called, "Harrison."

She paused, turning slowly. Victoria had followed her.

Victoria approached, holding out a check. "Take this."

Harrison glanced down—$20,000.

"Nathaniel doesn't love you," Victoria said sharply. "Let him go. Give him back to your sister. Divorce him, take the money, and start over somewhere far away."

Harrison almost laughed. If she hadn't secretly done a DNA test, she might have believed Isabella was Victoria's real daughter.

But she wasn't.

Victoria was only Isabella's stepmother. Yet she adored Isabella—not Harrison, her own flesh and blood.

Harrison knew why. Victoria was obsessed with Theodore.

Her voice was calm, her smile faint. "So, being Mrs. Falcon is worth this little to you? Or is that all I'm worth?"

Victoria stiffened. "Harrison, I'm your mother. I'm trying to help you. You don't belong here—"

Mother?

The word tasted bitter. Harrison laughed softly.

"You sent me away once. Now you want to do it again. What a wonderful mother."

Without another glance, she stepped into a waiting taxi.

Inside, she sat quietly, pulling a candy from her bag. She unwrapped it and let the sweetness dissolve on her tongue.

The driver glanced at her in the rearview mirror. She wore a simple dress, elegant yet fragile, as if a strong wind might break her.

He smiled kindly. "You like sweets, miss?"

Harrison turned her face toward the window, the breeze lifting her hair. "A little sweetness makes the bitterness easier to swallow."

Victoria stood frozen, watching the taxi disappear.

Then a voice spoke behind her. "Mrs. Whitmore."

She turned to see Gregory Whalen, the head of the naturopathy center.

Victoria hurried to him. "Dr. Whalen, you have connections. Can you convince Dr. Sinclair to treat Isabella?"

Gregory smiled. "I know him personally. I can arrange an introduction."

Victoria's face lit up. "Thank you!"

His gaze drifted to where Harrison had vanished. A sly smirk curled his lips. "Mrs. Whitmore, was that your daughter? The one from the countryside? For a moment, I thought I'd seen an angel."

Victoria's expression turned to ice.