Chapter 17
After getting in the car, Elliot frowned slightly, feeling like something was missing.
The car was eerily quiet, lacking something familiar.
He furrowed his brow, trying to recall what it was–that familiar jasmine scent that could slightly ease his tense nerves was gone.
“Why did you change the car fragrance?” he asked the driver coldly.
The driver glanced at him through the rearview mirror and answered carefully: “Mr. Sinclair, the previous fragrance was personally blended by the madam. She said it was calming. But recently… the madam hasn’t provided any new ones.”
Elliot was stunned, memories suddenly flashing through his mind-
When he returned from late–night work, Sophie would always leave a light on in the foyer with a cup of warm honey water on the table.
When his stomach ached, she would add a bit of yam to the porridge she made–soft and tender but not too sweet.
On rainy days, she would quietly slip a small jasmine sachet into his suit pocket, saying it could ward off the damp chill…
Those tiny gestures of tenderness he had almost overlooked now pierced his heart like fine needles.
At the Albright villa, the atmosphere was terrifyingly heavy.
Isabelle pointed at her injuries and said through gritted teeth, “That idiot living under my identity had such a miserable time–completely useless! It’s an insult to me!”
Caroline held her lovingly, “Don’t be angry, sweetheart. We’ll get revenge for you!”
“Revenge?” Isabelle scoffed. “Our family isn’t what it used to be, and we gave her thirty million. How can we fight the Sinclairs?”
Hearing this, David and Caroline’s faces paled. Isabelle was right–the Albright family had long been in decline, only maintaining appearances. Against the Sinclairs, they could only endure.
Just then, the butler announced that Elliot and Phoebe had arrived together.
David and Caroline exchanged glances and stormed out angrily, their eyes immediately locking onto Phoebe.
“Is this the bitch who bullied my daughter?” Caroline’s voice was shrill as she pointed at Phoebe. “And you had the nerve to bring her here to show off? Do you think the Albrights are pushovers?!”
She was about to lunge forward when Elliot raised his hand to stop her, his tone ice cold: “I’m here because I have questions.”
David snorted coldly but, mindful of the Sinclair family’s power, stepped aside: “Come in and talk.”
In the study, the atmosphere was tense.
point where
Elliot got straight to the point: “Where is the real Isabelle Albright?”
11:25
Stand–In Bride’s Escape: No More Chains Only Freedom
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Chapter 17
The Albright couple’s faces changed dramatically. After exchanging glances, David forced himself to remain calm: “Elliot Sinclair, what do you mean by that? The one living at your house IS our daughter Isabelle!”
“Really?” Elliot laughed coldly, pulling the documents from his suit jacket and throwing them on the table. “The marriage substitution from three years ago–did you think you could hide it forever?”
Caroline’s fingers trembled slightly. Just as she was about to retort, the study door suddenly burst open-
“I am Isabelle Albright. What’s the problem?”
A cool voice rang out. Elliot turned to see “Isabelle” standing in the doorway, holding up an ID card with the name “Isabelle Albright”
clearly written on it.
Elliot stared at the document, his brow furrowed.
The photo was identical to the face before him, but his instincts told him things weren’t that simple.
“If Mr. Sinclair doubts my identity, feel free to investigate.” She said flatly, then turned to leave.
Elliot grabbed her wrist, his voice low: “Who are you really?”
She looked up at him, her gaze calm to the point of coldness: “Does it matter? Mr. Sinclair never had a place for ‘Isabelle Albright‘ in his heart anyway.”
Those words cut into Elliot’s chest like a knife. He unconsciously loosened his grip, and she walked out without looking back.
That evening, his assistant called.
“Mr. Sinclair, I found out everything.” The assistant’s voice carried a hint of tension. “The Albright family does have two
daughters–twins. Three years ago, it was actually the younger sister, Sophie Albright, who married you. When the older sister
Isabelle fled the wedding to go abroad, the family had Sophie take her place. But for some reason, the older sister has returned
recently…”
Elliot gripped the phone tightly, his knuckles white.
So that was it.
The person who made porridge for him, left lights on for him, silently endured everything–it was never Isabelle.
It was Sophie.
He shot up from his seat, his eyes cold as ice: “Bring people to the Albright house immediately. ‘Invite‘ the Albright couple over.”
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