Semua Bab Rise Of The Heiress : Bab 111 - Bab 120

Moonlight spilled across the marble floors of the Blackwood Estate’s East Wing. It was quiet—eerily so. Too quiet for Isabella’s racing mind. She stood before the tall window, the reflection of her face fractured by the glass panes. The revelation from the vault clung to her like smoke. Her mother’s name in that file… the code “Terminated”… Alexander’s family signature. She hugged herself, struggling to quiet the storm within. She didn’t hear Alexander approach until she felt the warmth of his presence behind her. “I figured you’d be here,” he said quietly. Isabella didn’t turn around. “I couldn’t sleep.” “Neither could I.” Silence stretched between them, long and charged. She finally looked at him. “It doesn’t matter that you didn’t know, Alexander. The truth still hurts.” “I know.” His eyes held shadows too deep for one man to carry. “I keep replaying it all. Wondering if I missed something. If my father ever… said something I ignored.” “You can’t carry his sins,” she said,

Morning light streamed through the tall windows, casting golden lines across the marble floor of the Blackwood estate. Isabella stirred beneath the warm sheets, blinking at the unfamiliar ceiling. Her heart thudded with a peculiar combination of peace… and anxiety. She was still here. In his bed. After everything. She sat up slowly, the silk sheets brushing against her bare skin. The events of the previous night danced in her mind—his hands, his words, that kiss. And then everything after. Intimate. Intense. Undeniably real. A quiet knock interrupted her thoughts. “Come in,” she said, tugging the sheet around her body. It was Nina, one of the house staff. “Good morning, Miss Laurent. Mr. Blackwood asked me to bring you breakfast. He’s on a call, but he’ll be back shortly.” Isabella blinked. “Breakfast?” Nina smiled gently. “He insisted. Said you needed rest and coffee.” As the tray was set down, Isabella smiled faintly. Alexander Blackwood—the man who had once handed her an N

The name hung in the air like a curse. Lucien D’Avanti. The Serpent. Isabella blinked, taking a step back. “You know him?” Alexander’s jaw clenched. “I more than know him. He’s the reason I built Blackwood the way I did. The reason I swore never to trust anyone. And now… he’s the reason I’m afraid for you.” She studied his face—so still, so tightly controlled—but his eyes betrayed something deeper. Rage. Guilt. A haunting. “What did he do to you?” she whispered. Alexander turned away, running a hand through his hair before facing her again. “He was my mentor once. My father’s ally. The man who taught me the rules of survival in a world that doesn’t forgive weakness.” He paused, breathing deeply. “I was seventeen when I met him. I idolized him at first. He was sharp, powerful, untouchable. But underneath the charm, Lucien was a snake—poisonous and cold. He didn’t care about loyalty. He cared about control.” “What happened?” she asked softly. Alexander laughed bitterly. “He tri

The ride back to the estate was cloaked in a dense silence. Not the heavy, uncomfortable kind, but the kind that builds when two hearts are beating too fast for words. Isabella stared down at the lockbox resting on her lap. It was surprisingly heavy—perhaps from the weight of secrets, not just the metal. Her aunt’s appearance had rattled something deep in her. Not just confusion or fear… but possibility. Could her entire life have been a lie? Was her mother really just another player in a much larger game? And what did that make her? She glanced at Alexander. One hand on the wheel, jaw tight, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. But she could see it—he was fighting the urge to spiral into protectiveness. He always did when something threatened her world. “You don’t have to fix this for me,” she whispered. He glanced at her, surprised. “I know.” “But you want to.” He sighed, his voice low. “I’d burn down everything just to keep you safe.” Isabella reached over, placing her hand ge

The moon hung low, its silver light spilling across the grounds of Montclair Manor. Isabella sat by the window, staring out into the sprawling garden, now shrouded in the cold darkness of night. Her fingers absently traced the edges of the book that had become a constant companion—a reminder of everything she had lost and everything she stood to gain. The past few days had been a blur of uncertainty. Valerie’s warning still echoed in her mind, a chilling reminder of the world she had been born into but had never truly understood. “When you love someone like him, he becomes your weakness.” Isabella shut her eyes, trying to block out the thought. She wasn’t sure if Valerie’s words were meant as a warning or a challenge. Alexander, standing beside her, had been nothing but supportive, but Isabella couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that every moment they spent together made her more vulnerable. But love—real love—was never meant to make you weaker. Was it? The door creaked open, and