Chapter 312
In the hospital.
Sophia was brought in late at night, when the moon was hidden and the night was dark. She was in a sedated state and therefore wasn’t registered.
After Betty arrived at the hospital, she completed Sophia’s registration and kept watch by her bedside.
Though she wasn’t clear about exactly what had happened, she could sense that Sophia had suffered significant harm this time.
While feeling heartbroken for her friend, Betty also contemplated what she could do for Sophia.
Earlier, she had noticed the wave of public opinion against Sophia online. Betty used her own phone to log into Sophia’s Facebook account.
As soon as she opened it, she saw countless comments attacking Sophia.
“Sophia Wilson, why don’t you just die?! Did you even think about Henry being your husband when you filed that police report? In this marriage, you clearly married up, yet you still do such disgraceful things. Who gave you the courage?”
“Bitch! Take back your accusations and leave Henry alone! If you don’t love him, just let him go. No need to make things so ugly! Have some dignity!
“Fucking whore! You claim to love Henry but this is how you treat him? How does him going to prison benefit you?”
Betty was instantly triggered to her core. Her face flushed with anger as her fingers flew across the screen. “This is complete nonsense,” she muttered. “Absolute nonsense.”
Betty angrily responded to every negative comment, defending Sophia fiercely like a mother bear protecting her cub.
“You’re the victim here,” Betty murmured to the sleeping Sophia between replies. “Why are people attacking you while Isabella remains unscathed? It’s not fair.” Her angry eyes were filled with compassion.
For the next few hours, Betty continued fighting for Sophia. The effect was significant! Combined with the strategic intervention from the Harding PR department, the tide of public opinion gradually shifted.
The vicious comments against Sophia diminished, replaced by growing public anger toward Isabella.
Meanwhile, in the basement of the Harding estate, Isabella lay on the cold concrete floor, her body burning with fever. They had been locked away for several days without food or water. Her immune system, already weakened by kidney disease, was now struggling even more to sustain her.
Catherine knelt beside her daughter, desperation etched on her once–elegant face. Greasy strands of hair bung at her temples, and her expensive clothes were now wrinkled and dirty. The basement’s damp cold had seeped into their bones, and the lack of food had left them both weakened.
“Water,” Isabella whispered, her cracked lips barely able to move. “Please…”
Catherine staggered to the heavy door, pounding with what little strength remained in her malnourished body.
‘Is anyone there? Anyone!” she called hoarsely. “I’m still Mrs. Harding! I still have a say in this house!”
The guards stationed outside remained silent and motionless. They had received strict orders from Richard: no food, no water, no blankets. Let them suffer.
After all, Isabella had nearly destroyed the Harding family’s reputation, causing their stock prices to plummet.
These bodyguards, loyal to their employers, had no sympathy for women who had caused such trouble.
Catherine slid down against the door, her strength completely gone. “How did it come to this?” she whispered. “I’m still the lady of this house, and they won’t even acknowledge me.”
After resting briefly, she gathered her remaining energy to try again, pounding on the door once more.
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Is anyone out there?” she called. “Isabella is sick! She has a high fever! She’ll die if she doesn’t see a doctor!”
Isabella’s condition was indeed critical. Without her regular medication and proper care, her damaged kidneys were rapidly failing
She lay unconscious on the floor, her breathing weak and labored.
Catherine cradled her daughter in her arms, pressing her own cheek against Isabella’s burning forehead in a futile attempt to cool het down.
‘Isabella, dear, wake up,” she pleaded, tears streaming down her dirty face. “Mom is trying to find a way. Please hold on.”
Suddenly, the basement door creaked open, and harsh light from the hallway flooded the dark space.
Richard’s tall figure stood in the doorway, imposing despite his obvious exhaustion.
He stood silently, observing the scene before him.
y–more strands of white hair appeared at his temples, and his face had grown gaunt from stress and overwork, with
The past few weeks had aged him rapidly–m dark circles under his eyes.
Despite his deteriorating physical condition, his presence still exuded authority. He stood tall in the doorway, his head slightly bent to avoid hitting the low ceiling, watching Catherine’s back with cold, calculating eyes.
Catherine was initially too focused on Isabella to notice him.
When she finally heard the footsteps behind her and turned to look, shock flashed across her face.
“Richard? When did you get here?” Her voice trembled with uncertainty.
Richard remained silent, his gaze fixed firmly on her.
Catherine didn’t know if he had heard her motherly words to Isabella. Fearing the worst, she gently laid Isabella down and hurried to her husband’s side, clutching his arm tightly.
“Richard, how could you be so cruel?” she whimpered, trying to sound like a wronged wife. “Locking me down here for days! What have I done to deserve this? Am I not your wife anymore?”
Richard’s face remained impassive, but his eyes hardened. With one forceful movement, he shook off her grip.
“Are you my wife?” he asked coldly. “You know the answer better than anyone.”
Catherine’s heart raced. Had he discovered her secret? She nervously wrung her hands, trying to read his expression.
“What are you saying?” she demanded, feigning indignation. “I’ve been your wife for nearly thirty years! I raised your children, managed your household, took care of all your needs while you were busy making money. Which wifely duty have failed to perform?”
Richard remained silent, his expression inscrutable.
“Richard, you’ve always been reasonable with me,” Catherine continued desperately. “We always discussed things. Why are you acting like this today? Is someone spreading lies about me?”
Richard said nothing, but he had heard everything.
He was deliberately torturing Catherine, wanting to see how long she could maintain this charade.
All the clues had finally come together..
Although Isabella and Catherine didn’t look very similar–only their mouths and noses resembled each other–Catherine’s extraordinary favoritism toward her had always seemed strange.
Now he understood why Isabella, an outsider, was allowed to attend Harding family gatherings.
Chapter 312
Because Isabella was Catherine’s illegitimate daughter.
This also explained Catherine’s deep hostility toward Sophia–Sophia had taken the daughter–in–law position that Catherine had reserved for habella.
But then another disturbing question arose: Catherine was llenry’s aunt, and Isabella was her daughter.
If Henry and Isabella had ended up together, wouldn’t that be incest?
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