Chapter 400

The small child dashed forward, clutching the woman's fingers with his tiny hands. "Mother, she's beautiful," he declared in a petulant whisper. "I wish to marry her when I'm grown."

The woman's face lit up with maternal pride as she stroked his hair. "Darling boy, she's merely a commoner's child. At best, she might serve as your plaything. Such lowborn creatures shouldn't even breathe the same air as you when you're older."

The boy squared his shoulders, his juvenile arrogance palpable.

Isabelle remained motionless, her icy stare boring into them. These fools had no inkling of the storm they'd unleashed. She knew her mother would make them pay dearly.

Pleased with her dominance, the woman suddenly shoved Isabelle violently, sending her stumbling backward.

"Get to the kitchen and start learning proper cooking!" the woman shrieked. "My precious son can't survive on my cooking alone. And don't forget to call your grandfather - tell him everything's perfect here. Stay obedient, and perhaps I'll permit you to continue attending school with my son. Step out of line..." She let the threat hang ominously in the air.

Isabelle studied their menacing expressions meant to cow her. Instead of defiance, she adopted a submissive posture, feigning meekness as she shuffled toward the kitchen.

The front door swung open abruptly, revealing a disheveled man entering the house.

The woman and child rushed to greet him with theatrical enthusiasm.

"Father!" the boy cried. "Darling!" the woman cooed.

Curious, Isabelle turned to observe this supposedly important man. He bore no resemblance to the powerful figure they'd described - his beard was scraggly, his eyes dull and lifeless. But when his gaze landed on Isabelle, they widened in stunned recognition.

The man strode forward and seized Isabelle's wrist, his disbelief evident.

"Richard's voice came out strangled. "Who is this child? Explain this immediately!"

The woman stepped forward with a saccharine smile. "She's a classmate of our son's from kindergarten. Though she offended him, our generous boy wished to give her a better life, so I brought her home."

The truth behind Richard's contempt ran deeper than appearances suggested. Isabelle's features bore an uncanny resemblance to Olivia Sinclair in her youth, resurrecting memories Richard had spent decades burying.

Now middle-aged and washed-up, Richard's life had become a grotesque parody of his ambitions. He'd murdered his own mother and framed Liam.

Rather than confront his failures, Richard had convinced himself Liam was responsible for everything. In his twisted reasoning, had Liam simply surrendered control of Blackwood Enterprises, none of this would have occurred. It was easier for Richard to direct his rage at Liam, and by extension, despise Olivia.

Richard had heard rumors of Olivia's triumphant return to the Kensington family and her successful auction house venture. To his fury, even that fool had suffered losses at Olivia's hands.

Isabelle's striking resemblance to young Olivia both unsettled and enraged Richard. As long as this child wasn't Olivia's daughter, Richard saw no reason not to unleash his pent-up fury on her.

Without warning, Richard's arm shot up as he hurled a porcelain vase against the wall, sending shards scattering across the floor.

The violent crash echoed through the house.

Silence followed.

Then Richard's breathing grew ragged as his fingers twitched toward Isabelle's throat.