บททั้งหมดของ His Betrayal, His Regret: บทที่ 201 - บทที่ 210

Isabel’s POVThe tension in the restaurant was thick and palpable as the journalists lingered. They were whispering among themselves. Their dissatisfaction simmered beneath forced restraint. They exchanged glances, as if daring one another to defy Michael’s looming presence. But he stood tall, his posture commanding respect, counting down aloud with the precision of a metronome.“Three minutes,” Michael said, his voice steady but steely.The whispering grew louder, peppered with grumbles of indignation. A few reporters tried to plead their case.“Surely, Mr. Emerson wouldn’t mind answering just one—”“Two minutes.” Michael’s sharp tone cut through the noise like a blade, his piercing gaze silencing the room. I hid behind my wig and glasses, pretending to be an innocent bystander.The defiance faltered. Reluctantly, the journalists began packing up their equipment. They slowly shuffled out with thinly veiled frustration. Their murmurs faded into the background as the heavy doors swun

Isabel’s POV“Ahhhh!”I bolted upright, my scream slicing through the silence. My chest heaved as the remnants of the nightmare clung to me, dark and suffocating. My hands trembled as I clutched the blanket, cold sweat dripping down my temples.Caleb rushed to my side, his voice laced with concern. “Isabel! It’s okay, it was just a nightmare.” He crouched beside me, his hand hovering uncertainly before resting lightly on my shoulder.I panted, my pulse racing, unable to focus on anything but the horrifying images etched into my mind. Sebastian’s face—bloodied and broken—flashed before me, his screams echoing in my ears. Margot was next, her cries begging for mercy as faceless executioners closed in. I had been powerless in the dream, screaming and pleading, but no one listened.“It’s not real,” Caleb said firmly, his hands now gripping mine, grounding me. “You’re safe. It’s over.”I took a deep, shuddering breath, squeezing my eyes shut to block out the haunting images. When I finall

Isabel’s POVThe guilt weighed heavily on me, like a leaden burden I couldn’t shake. Sebastian was in grave danger, all because of me. Yet, even in the face of his own peril, he had found a way to help me. His unwavering loyalty and selflessness cut through me like a knife, leaving a hollow ache in its wake.I bit my lip to keep the tears at bay, but the effort was useless. They slipped down my cheeks, hot and unrelenting. “He’s risking everything,” I whispered, more to myself than anyone else. “How could I ever repay him?”Robert stepped forward, his voice soft but firm. “Isa, you can’t afford to let guilt consume you. If you don’t fight for your own life, all of Sebastian’s efforts will be meaningless. You need to stay strong—for him, for yourself.”His words settled in the air between us, like a lifeline being thrown into turbulent waters. Caleb, standing slightly apart, added his own support. “If you’re worried about Emerson finding out about the operation, I’ll help you keep it

Isabel’s POV“I’ll go to the banquet,” I said finally, my voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me.“What?” Both men spoke in unison, their heads snapping up, eyes wide with disbelief.“If Alistair wants me there, I’ll go,” I repeated, my tone firmer this time. “But not because of his threats. I want to know what he’s planning, and I refuse to sit on the sidelines while he pulls the strings.”Emerson’s jaw tightened, his dark eyes narrowing as if he was weighing his next words carefully. Caleb, on the other hand, immediately stepped forward, his face clouded with frustration.“Are you out of your mind?” Caleb exclaimed, his voice rising. “This isn’t just about attending some fancy dinner. Alistair is dangerous, Isa! He’s already threatening Sebastian—do you really think he wouldn’t do the same to you?"“I know the risks,” I replied, meeting his fiery gaze with as much calm as I could muster. “But I won’t be a pawn in this game anymore. I need to understand what

Isabel’s POVI stormed into my bedroom, my thoughts a whirlwind of anger and confusion. Slamming the door shut, I twisted the lock with more force than necessary. As if it could somehow keep everything out—not just Emerson’s infuriating persistence, but the fear and uncertainty clawing at me.The muffled sound of footsteps followed, and then a knock.“Isa,” Emerson’s voice called from the other side. “What do you mean by what you said earlier? Are you willing to give me another chance?”I rolled my eyes, leaning against the door. The nerve of him to ask that after everything he’d just said. “Go away, Emerson,” I muttered, too low for him to hear.“I’m not leaving until you answer me,” he insisted, his tone firm but with a hint of desperation.I clenched my fists, my patience wearing thin. “Emerson, I’m serious. Leave me alone!”The knocking stopped, but his voice persisted. “Isa, I just want to talk. Please.”“I don’t care!” I yelled, grabbing a pillow and hurling it at the door. “G