Chapter 147
After wrapping up her work at the company, Isabella Sinclair couldn’t get the comic book she had stumbled upon out of her mind.
It played on repeat in her thoughts like an insistent melody, so after her Sunday pottery class with Amelia Kingsley, she made a beeline for the comic book signing event.
The mall pulsed with life, its crowded walkways teeming with shoppers, yet many couldn’t help but steal glances at Isabella.
“Is that a celebrity? She’s stunning! Her posture is so elegant.”
“She must come from old money.”
“Her skin is flawless—she has to be some kind of heiress.”
Isabella, however, remained indifferent to the attention.
Her natural beauty had always been undeniable, but during her time with the Blackwood family, Ethan and Eleanor had discouraged her from embracing it.
They had preached humility, insisting she keep her head down and act demure, as if that were the epitome of grace.
Now, free from their constraints, she finally allowed herself to shine.
Dressed simply in a fitted white corset top and jeans, she exuded effortless sophistication with an air of cool detachment.
People turned to look as she passed, but no one dared approach her—not even for small talk.
Her eyes landed on a comic poster ahead, the name Xavier Delmar emblazoned across it in bold letters.
A faint smirk tugged at her lips.
What would Xavier think when he saw her now?
A long queue stretched toward the signing table, fans buzzing with excitement as they waited for Xavier’s autograph.
Just then, she spotted Sophia Kensington and Ethan Blackwood walking hand in hand, the picture of domestic bliss.
“Ethan, Xavier is someone I met two years ago in Leswington. I never imagined his comics would become this popular! I’ll ask him to promote Blackwood Group’s products. Think of the free exposure we’d get,” Sophia suggested, her tone dripping with false consideration.
Ethan nodded, his smile warm.
“You always think of everything.”
He had overheard people raving about Xavier’s rising fame on their way in, and the idea of leveraging that for his company’s benefit was too tempting to ignore.
Ethan gave Sophia’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.
“You’re always so thoughtful.”
Unlike Isabella.
His mind drifted back.
When she had been his wife, Isabella had known nothing about business.
She had been too absorbed in playing the dutiful housewife to ever consider partnerships or marketing strategies.
He still couldn’t fathom how Alexander Kingsley could possibly trust her as a supervisor at his company.
Sure, she had a talent for perfumery, but management? That didn’t seem like her forte.
Lost in thought, Ethan snapped back to reality when he noticed a familiar figure.
Isabella had somehow bypassed the long line of fans and now stood at the front, seemingly oblivious to the chaos around her.
Sophia, ever the picture of sweetness, murmured softly, “What a funny coincidence! Isabella must be a fan too. It’s just a shame she doesn’t understand how these events work. Looks like she cut in line.”
Ethan’s expression remained blank.
“She was never taught proper manners. No one guided her.”
His fingers twitched, the dull ache from his last encounter with Isabella still lingering.
At the signing table, the man with glasses and tousled curls was busy scribbling autographs, barely looking up.
“Miss, I appreciate the enthusiasm, but you’ll need to join the line like everyone else,” Xavier said, sliding a poster toward her with a polite smile. “Or, if you’re in a hurry, VIP tickets are available for a special photo session.”
“I appreciate your help. Afterwards—”
His words died in his throat when he finally glanced up and saw Isabella Sinclair standing before him.
Xavier’s palms grew clammy, his face draining of color.
“Hedwig… You’re Hedwig Benson? What are you doing here?”
