Chapter 200
Her frustration mounting, Isabella grabbed her phone and dialed Henry’s number again. And again. And again.
Back at the villa, Henry’s phone buzzed incessantly in his pocket. After his gift disaster, his mood had soured considerably. When he glanced at the caller ID and saw Isabella’s name flashing, he didn’t hesitate to switch the phone to silent and shove it back into his pocket.
William, ever observant, noticed his grandson’s reaction. “Is that woman calling?” he asked pointedly. “Why aren’t you answering?”
Henry stared at his phone as it continued to vibrate silently. Ever since he’d confronted Isabella about those photos she’d sent to Sophia, his feelings toward her had shifted dramatically.
This woman he once thought was pure and innocent had manipulated him repeatedly.
The night she’d sneaked into his bed at Maple Grove, orchestrating a scenario where the entire household would discover them together–he hadn’t understood her motives at the time. Now, it was crystal clear. Isabella had been using him callously, without consideration for the consequences.
All that remained of his feelings for her was a sense of obligation. Any genuine affection had withered away.
“I don’t want to talk to her,” Henry finally replied to his grandfather.
William studied his grandson’s face, recognizing the change in his attitude. “Let me ask you something,” he said carefully. “Did Isabella tell you I forced her to leave the city? That I opposed your relationship because I didn’t want you marrying a commoner?”
Henry thought for a moment before answering. “Yes, that’s exactly what she said.”
William shook his head, disappointment evident in his eyes. “And you believed her so easily?”
“Henry,” William continued, “when you were so terribly ill, if you had asked for the moon from the sky, I would have found a way to get it for you. How could something as simple as marriage be an obstacle?”
The truth was that William had disliked Isabella from their first meeting. Though she presented herself as gentle and innocent, always smiling sweetly and acting graciously, William’s experienced eyes had seen through her facade immediately, recognizing the calculation behind her charm.
He revealed to Henry how he’d discovered Isabella’s true nature. “This happened a week before you said you’d bring your girlfriend home,” William explained.
He recounted how he’d been exercising in the park when he suddenly felt dizzy. A pretty young woman appeared, offering him heart medication, claiming she could recognize the symptoms of a heart attack.
“She introduced herself as Isabella Scott, saying she was just being a good Samaritan,” William continued. “But something felt off. Your girlfriend had the same name, so I had Mark follow her.”
Mark’s investigation revealed that Isabella had been waiting in the park deliberately, that the “chance” meeting had been carefully staged. She’d even been spotted holding hands with another man afterward.
“Do you still think she’s innocent and without ulterior motives?” William asked, watching his grandson’s face closely.
Henry sat in stunned silence. For years, he’d believed his grandfather had cruelly separated him from the woman he loved. Their relatio deteriorated severely because of it, only somewhat improving after Sophia entered their lives.
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Now, learning that everything he’d believed was false, Henry felt as if he’d been plunged into an icy abyss. This realization was too much to bear, his chest tightening painfully.
I noticed the change in Henry immediately–his face had gone deathly pale, his breathing becoming shallow and irregular. I rushed to his side, quickly retrieving the medication from his jacket pocket and pressing it to his lips.
He swallowed obediently, then slumped against me, his eyes tightly closed, his face as white as paper.
I cradled his head in my lap. His breathing gradually steadied, but his grip on my hand remained firm, unwilling to let go.
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Chapter 200
After a while, Henry’s eyes fluttered open, looking directly into mine with an intensity that made my heart skip. His voice was barely above a whisper, fragile yet determined.
“Come back to me,
