Chapter 188
After leaving Henry standing in the hallway, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this divorce was becoming more complicated by the day. Those photos had clearly struck a nerve with him. Good. Let him stew in his own confusion and lies.
Meanwhile, Henry remained frozen in place, his mind racing with questions about those photos. Who could have taken them? And why would they send them to Sophia? Despite his outward denial, a sinking feeling in his gut told him the answer might be simpler than he wanted to admit.
The real reason Henty had come to the hospital today wasn’t to harass me or Thomas. He’d received a frantic call from Isabella earlier–a call that had left him deeply troubled.
“Henry, she’d sobbed into the phone, her voice barely audible. “Your grandfather is going to kill me. Please, take me away from here. I can’t stay in this hospital anymore. Can we go somewhere else? Please?”
Henry had been skeptical. His grandfather was stern and sometimes harsh, but he’d never physically harm a woman, especially not someone as fragile as Isabella, who was much younger than him. Still, her desperate tone prompted him to check on her.
He hadn’t expected to walk into Thomas confessing his feelings for me in the corridor. Seeing us together had ignited a rage in him that momentarily overshadowed his concern for Isabella. But now, with our confrontation over, he decided to investigate Isabella’s claims.
As he approached her hospital room, Henry could hear Isabella’s muffled sobs from inside.
The past week had been hell for Isabella. William had made it his personal mission to torment her, ensuring she couldn’t sleep or eat properly. In just seven days, she’d lost noticeable weight, her once–radiant skin now sallow and stretched thin over her cheekbones. William’s security team had confiscated her phone, cutting her off from the outside world. It was only by borrowing a janitor’s phone that she’d managed to contact Henry.
As she heard familiar footsteps approaching her room, Isabella quickly collapsed onto the floor, looking fragile and defeated. Nancy, standing by the bed, immediately played her part in this carefully choreographed scene.
“Miss Scott, please get up, Nancy pleaded with concern in her voice. “The floor is cold, and you’re ill. What if you catch something else?”
Isabella’s tears flowed on cue. “What does it matter?” she whimpered, her voice breaking perfectly. “I might as well die. What’s the point of living like this? I can’t find a kidney donor, everyone treats me terribly, and William torments me daily. Why should I go on living?”
She continued her performance, making sure to appear selfless despite her suffering. “I don’t want to burden him with more problems. In my condition, I’m already his biggest worry.”
Nancy immediately countered, her timing impeccable: “Miss Scott, you’re terribly ill! As your boyfriend, shouldn’t Mr. Harding be spending more time with you? It’s not just that he’s absent–he lets his family mistreat you. How can he be so cold–hearted?”
It was at this exact moment that Henry pushed open the door. Isabella feigned surprise, rushing toward him before breaking into a convincing fit of coughs.
What man wouldn’t feel protective seeing such a delicate creature in distress? Isabella had perfected the art of appearing vulnerable, knowing exactly how to tug at Henry’s heartstrings.
The anger Henry had felt during his confrontation with me instantly dissolved. He strode quickly to Isabella’s side, helping her back hands. “Why aren’t you listening to your nurse?” he scolded softly. “Can’t you just rest properly?” A twinge of guilt flickered across his tace.
with gentle
Isabella was elated at having secured Henry’s sympathy, though she carefully kept this triumph hidden. Instead, she gazed up at him with innocent eyes filled with adoration.
*Henry, I understand why your grandfather acts this way,” she whispered nobly. “He doesn’t want someone as sick as me burdening you. I can handle everything he does to me.” With that, she pulled up her sleeve to reveal an ugly bruise on her pale arm–a mark she’d actually given herself while thrashing about days earlier. William hadn’t ordered anyone to hurt her, but the bruise was impossible to miss against her porcelain skin.
