Chapter 265
Two weeks later, Isabella Sinclair arrived at the Kingsley estate, hoping to discuss urgent matters with Alexander Kingsley.
“Ms. Sinclair, you’re here at last!” James Pembroke greeted her at the entrance with a beaming smile, stepping aside to usher her in. “Both Mr. Kingsley and Amelia have missed you terribly—especially Mr. Kingsley. He’s been wearing that perfume you gifted him nearly every day.”
“James, that’s only because it helps with his migraines,” Isabella replied with a faint, helpless smile.
James chuckled. “Even so, it’s all thanks to your brilliant creation.”
“How is Amelia doing?” Isabella asked softly, her gaze warm.
“She’s improving. She can say a few words now, though slowly,” James said as he led her into the grand hall. “She’s made remarkable progress since your last visit.” He paused, turning to her with a solemn expression. “Ms. Sinclair, we’re all deeply grateful for what you did that day. If it hadn’t been for you, both Mr. Kingsley and Amelia…” His voice trailed off, the unspoken words heavy with meaning.
Though James hadn’t been present, he had pieced together the events from reports, realizing just how close they had come to tragedy. One misstep from Isabella, and everything could have ended in disaster.
Isabella offered a modest smile. “I was just fortunate.”
As she stepped into the hall, her eyes landed on a familiar figure. Julian Whitmore was there, gently coaxing Amelia to take her medicine. His movements were careful, soothing.
The moment Julian spotted her, his composed expression brightened. “Isabella! You finally made it.” He beckoned her closer, his white coat accentuating his tall, lean frame. The gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose gave him an air of quiet sophistication, like a scholar from an aristocratic lineage. “Amelia has been waiting for you.”
Isabella followed his gaze to the little girl with wide, dark eyes. The moment Amelia saw her, she struggled to her feet, stumbling forward with outstretched arms.
“Iz… Izzy…”
Hearing her name from Amelia’s lips, even in its hesitant form, tugged at Isabella’s heart. Amelia had been trapped in her own world for so long, barely responding to anyone. But after the kidnapping, something had shifted. She had begun to speak again, though haltingly.
Isabella quickly scooped her up. “Amelia, sweetheart.”
But the girl’s face crumpled, and she burst into tears, her small body trembling violently in Isabella’s arms. It was as if years of suppressed fear and confusion were finally breaking free. She clung to Isabella desperately, sobbing until exhaustion overtook her, leaving only soft, hiccupping whimpers.
“I’m here,” Isabella murmured, rubbing slow circles on Amelia’s back. “I’m not going anywhere.”
That fateful day had been a turning point for Amelia. The gunfire and chaos had somehow shattered the walls around her memories. Despite her terror, she had bitten her kidnapper’s hand, saving herself. It was as if, in the midst of fear, she had found a spark of courage—fear not for herself, but for Alexander. That was why she fought so hard to break through the barriers in her mind.
Now, Amelia’s tear-filled eyes gazed up at Isabella pleadingly. “I…” she tried, but the words wouldn’t come. She hadn’t spoken in years, yet even in her haze, she sensed Isabella’s kindness.
“It’s all right, Amelia. You’re doing wonderfully. Take your time,” Isabella encouraged softly, stroking her hair. “You’ve already come so far. If you keep working with the doctors, you’ll get even stronger. I promise.”
“Okay,” Amelia whispered, burying her face against Isabella’s shoulder. She had been terrified Isabella would disappear like her father had.
As Isabella comforted her, she glanced at Julian. “Is Alexander not here? I need to speak with him.” There was a subtle edge to her voice, as if her thoughts were elsewhere. Over the past fortnight, she had quietly been investigating the mastermind behind the kidnapping—and every clue pointed toward one of the Kingsley family’s illegitimate sons.
“Alexander went to buy Amelia a new doll,” Julian replied, his gaze flickering with something akin to envy. Still, his smile remained warm. “He should be back any moment.” He was perceptive enough not to pry. Though he didn’t know the specifics of what Isabella needed to discuss with Alexander, the gravity in her tone told him it was important.
“All right,” Isabella said with a small nod. “I’ll wait.”
She had barely finished speaking when the door burst open with a sharp bang. James’s strained voice echoed from the hallway.
“You can’t just barge in without an appointment—”
“An appointment?” A man’s voice, dripping with disdain, cut him off. “Who are you to dictate who enters the Kingsley family home?”
Damian Kingsley strode in, his lips curled in a sneer. “My mother and I are here to see my dear brother and niece. Even Father didn’t object, so what gives you the right to stop us?”
