All Chapters of His Betrayal, His Regret: Chapter 321 - Chapter 330

Isabel’s POVThe drive to the address Michael had given us felt like a blur. Emerson gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white, and his jaw was set in grim determination. My chest tightened with each passing moment, my mind racing with worst-case scenarios. Michael’s words echoed in my head: “He’s not well.” What did that even mean? Was he hurt? Was it something worse?We arrived at a grand hotel. The scene before us was complete chaos. Police cars lined the front entrance, their lights casting a sickly red and blue glow across the building. Onlookers crowded the area, their murmurs blending into a cacophony that made my heart pound harder. My eyes darted upward, catching sight of the roofline where a section of the guardrail had been broken. A chill shot down my spine.“Stay close,” Emerson said, his voice taut. But I couldn’t wait. My legs carried me forward, pushing through the throng of people.“Isa, wait!” Emerson called after me. But I was already los

Emerson’s POVMy hands trembled violently as I clutched my phone. The cryptic message was glaring back at me like an open wound. It couldn’t possibly be… him. Or could it?I could feel the rage boiling beneath my skin, threatening to erupt. My jaw clenched so tightly it ached, and my breaths came in uneven bursts.“Emerson.” Caleb’s voice broke through the haze. He stepped closer, concern etched into his face as he glanced at the phone in my hand. “What’s wrong? Who messaged you?”I hesitated for a moment, debating whether to keep the message to myself. But the weight of it was too much to bear alone. Without a word, I turned the screen toward him.Caleb’s expression shifted instantly. “Who...?” he started, but his voice trailed off. His brows furrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line as he read the message. Then, as if struck by a revelation, his eyes widened. With a mix of anger and disbelief, he exclaimed, “Could it be him? Could it be Raoul?”The name sent a jolt through me, d

Emerson’s POVThe chaos outside the hospital was unlike anything I had ever seen. Smoke billowed from burning vehicles, and the air was thick with the acrid tang of gunpowder. The echo of gunfire and shouting ricocheted through the streets, mingling with the cries of the wounded. My men and I, battered and bloodied, pressed forward with unrelenting determination. Every step was a fight against the tide of Raoul’s hired mercenaries.Behind the barricade of overturned gurneys, I wiped the blood from my brow, glancing toward the hospital. Isabel.She was the reason I pushed through the pain. The sole force driving me to keep moving despite my injured body’s protests. I couldn’t fail her—not again.Was she okay? Could I trust Sebastian and his men to keep the operating room safe? It was a gamble—a risk. But I had no other choice. I was needed here, to take care of Raoul myself."Push forward!" I barked, my voice hoarse but commanding. My men surged with renewed vigor, a mix of loyalty an

Emerson’s POV“Isabel! No!”I bolted upright, drenched in cold sweat, my chest heaving like I’d been submerged in icy water. The nightmare’s gruesome images clung to me.Isabel’s pale face, her lifeless body slipping through my fingers as blood pooled around her. My throat felt raw from the scream that had wrenched itself free.Normally, waking up from a nightmare brought relief. The kind of solace that came with realizing the horrors were merely figments of a restless mind. But not today. Today, waking up felt like stepping deeper into a nightmare that refused to end.Reality settled over me with a suffocating weight. The haunting image of Isabel’s lifeless body lingered in my mind, vivid and unrelenting. Her pale face, so serene it was almost cruel, was the last thing I’d seen before darkness claimed me.It wasn’t just a memory—it was a living torment, replaying over and over in grotesque detail. I could still feel the cold air of the operating room, smell the sharp tang of antisept

Isabel’s POVI woke up in a strange place, disoriented. As though I had been tossed around by the violent tides of life. For a moment, I thought I had been returned to that terrible mental hospital. But then, I noticed the difference—the absence of restraints. I wasn’t bound this time. My body was free, laid out on the bed, my limbs able to move at will. For the first time in what felt like forever, I could breathe easily.I slowly felt my head, wincing at the tenderness. A thick bandage was wrapped around it. Then it hit me. I must’ve had brain surgery! I had made it. I was alive. My heart raced in a mix of relief and confusion, and I immediately tried to make sense of the situation. Where was everyone? Why was I here?Where was… Emerson?I believed I knew him well enough by now to know that, under normal circumstances, he would be right here by my side. He wouldn’t leave my side for even a second. But instead, I was alone. The emptiness of the room seemed to stretch endlessly arou