Chapter 132
Rain mercilessly pounded against the windshield as Henry’s Rolls–Royce sped through Manhattan’s empty streets. His knuckles turned white fiêm cripplies the steering wheel, his face set with cold determination.
He ran through five red lights without the slightest deceleration.
Those insignincant tickets meant nothing to Henty; finding Isabella was all that mattered now.
Various possibilities flashed through his mind, each one disturbing.
In this weather, with her condition, where could she have gone?
When he burst into the hospital entrance, his clothes already damp, Nancy hurried toward him, her eyes swollen and red from crying.
“Mt. Harding!” she sobbed, grabbing his arm with surprising strength. “Thank God you’re here! I’ve looked everywhere! Miss Isabella is gone, and in this terrible weather with her condition–she won’t survive long out there!”
Henry clenched his jaw, scanning the hospital lobby. “How long has she been missing?”
‘I discovered she was gone about an hour ago, Nancy whispered, guilt evident in her trembling voice. “I just stepped out to get her medication, and when i returned…”
“Show me her room, Henry commanded, already striding toward the elevator.
The luxury suite was eerily pristine. Henry’s security team spread out, searching every corner of the hospital while he stood in the center of Isabella’s room, his sharp eyes capturing every detail.
Something was wrong.
It didn’t look like she had been abducted, but rather like Isabella had deliberately chosen to leave.
The rain intensified, continuously beating against the windows as Henry turned to Nancy, who nervously hovered in the doorway.
“This makes no sense,” he said coldly. “Isabella barely has enough strength to walk to the bathroom by herself. How could she possibly leave the hospital without anyone noticing?”
Nancy’s eyes darted away, unable to meet his piercing gaze. “I–I don’t know, sir.”
“Don’t lie to me,” Henry’s voice filled with threat. “What happened before she disappeared? I want the truth.”
Nancy wrung her hands nervously, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper. “It was… it was your grandfather’s butler, sir. Mr. Martin came earlier today. He spoke with Miss Isabella privately.”
Henry’s expression darkened. “What did he say to her?”
‘I don’t know exactly,” Nancy stammered. “But afterward, Miss Isabella was… completely devastated. She threw things, smashed the vase, overturned furniture. She kept saying she wouldn’t be controlled by anyone.”
Henry’s face turned to stone. And you didn’t think to notify me immediately when this happened?”
She made me promise not to tell you! She said she needed to handle it herself, Nancy protested weakly. “Then she demanded to be discharged. When I told her the doctors wouldn’t approve, she just… disappeared.”
Henry stood perfectly still, contemplating.
Then, without warning, his fist slammed into the wall, the impact echoing through the empty room.
“Keep searching, he ordered his security team. “Call me immediately if you find anything.”
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Chapter 132
He scanned the room one last time. Isabella hadn’t fled in pante–she had planned this.
But where would she go?
Suddenly, a memory surfaced a small townhouse he’d purchased years ago, when they were barely adults. Could she have gone there? It seemed imp
ret
Continue the search, he instructed his team before heading back into the storm.
As Henry’s car disappeared from the hospital parking lot, Nancy quickly pulled out her phone, typing a quick message: He’s gone.
Miles away, in a charming two–story townhouse, Isabella sat by the window, watching raindrops chase each other down the glass. The message appeared on her screen, a small, satisfied smile playing at her lips before she quickly deleted it.
She stood, removing the warm robe she’d been wearing, and changed into her thin hospital gown. The cold air immediately raised goosebumps on her skin, but that was exactly what she wanted. Satisfied with her appearance, she descended the stairs on shaky legs and positioned herself near the front door, watching for headlights through the rain–streaked windows.
When the distinctive silhouette of Henry’s Rolls–Royce appeared through the downpour, Isabella slipped out the back door into the garden, curling ap beneath a specific tree–one that Henry had planted years ago, which had witnessed their difficult journey through love.
Henry had thought it romantic at the time.
Henry didn’t bother with an umbrella as he left his car, rain immediately soaking his suit as he rushed toward the front door. Using his key, he entered and headed straight upstairs, checking each room with increasing desperation.
Finding the house empty, he moved to the upstairs window, scanning the property. When he spotted a small figure huddled beneath the albizia tree, pouring mercilessly over her slender form, his heart nearly stopped.
“Isabella!” he shouted, though he knew she couldn’t hear him through the closed window and pounding rain.
rain
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