Chapter 136

Anna Wyndham sat with poised elegance in the drawing room, delicately sipping her tea as she engaged in conversation with Wyatt and Sia. The atmosphere was tense, charged with unspoken emotions.

Sia had confronted both Anna and Wyatt earlier, upset that neither had visited Isla in the hospital. Her frustration was clear, but Anna, as always, had her own way of steering the situation. She possessed a unique talent for convincing others that her actions were always for the greater good of the family.

“You both need to realize that everything I do is for the sake of this family,” Anna declared firmly, her voice calm but resolute. “If I don’t take control, this household will crumble. Gabriel has been failing us, and it was time for me to step in.” She explained her reasoning with unwavering confidence.

Wyatt nodded in agreement, fully supporting his mother’s stance, while Sia managed only a weak, uneasy smile. The tension in the room was palpable; since the news about Isla had spread, everyone had been tiptoeing around Anna, wary of her sharp presence.

Suddenly, the heavy wooden door creaked open. Stephen, the butler, entered quietly, his usually composed face now marked by a grim seriousness.

“Ma’am, I—” he began, but his words were cut off abruptly.

Behind him strode Stone, his tall figure commanding immediate attention. “Thank you, Stephen. I’ll take it from here,” Stone said sharply, his tone cold and clipped.

Anna’s face immediately twisted into a scowl. “How dare you barge in here and invade my privacy?” she snapped, eyes flashing with indignation. “What do you want? Has Gabriel sent you again to—”

“Enough,” Stone interrupted, his voice ringing through the room with authority, silencing even Wyatt.

He gestured toward the open doorway. “Please, come in and do your duty.”

Two men in plain clothes entered, moving with deliberate purpose. Both were visibly armed, their presence adding weight to the moment.

Wyatt’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “What’s going on here?” he demanded.

Stone’s voice was steady but sharp. “There she is. Please, place her under arrest.” His finger pointed directly at Anna.

Anna blinked in shock, her teacup slipping from her fingers and shattering on the floor. “What?” she gasped, disbelief flooding her voice. “You can’t be serious.”

“You can’t just walk in here and arrest my mother!” Wyatt shouted, stepping forward angrily. “Who sent you? What has she done?”

One of the officers stepped closer, his tone professional and devoid of emotion. “Mrs. Anna Wyndham, you are under arrest for attempted murder and for causing Mrs. Isla Wyndham’s miscarriage.”

Anna’s eyes widened in stunned disbelief.

“I suggest you remain silent,” the officer continued, “because anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”

Anna sprang to her feet, her voice trembling with fury. “No! I didn’t do anything! You can’t take me away without proof!”

Stone folded his arms, unfazed. “We have the evidence, Mrs. Wyndham. I advise you to stop making this more difficult for yourself.”

Her face contorted with rage. “Who authorized this arrest? It’s that witch, isn’t it?” she hissed venomously.

“Mr. Gabriel Wyndham himself,” Stone replied evenly. “He filed the case.”

Anna staggered backward, her voice shaking. “What? No! Gabriel would never—”

Her protest was abruptly cut short when an officer grabbed her arm and snapped handcuffs around her wrists.

Wyatt lunged forward in anger, but Stone blocked him effortlessly. “Don’t,” he warned coldly.

Sia gasped, hand flying to her mouth, frozen in place as she watched the woman she once admired being led away in handcuffs.

“Let’s go,” one of the officers said firmly.

Anna twisted her head defiantly, her voice trembling but full of spite. “You’ll all regret this!” she spat as they escorted her toward the door. “I’ll make you pay for this humiliation!”

Wyatt followed, shouting questions that faded down the hallway.

Sia remained standing, trembling, her heart pounding fiercely. For the first time, she truly understood that Anna Wyndham’s reign had come to an end.

***

At Wyndham Tower, inside John’s office…

“I’m waiting, Father,” Gabriel’s voice boomed through the room, thick with restrained anger. His jaw was clenched tightly, hands balled into fists at his sides. “You can’t just tell me that and expect me to stay silent. Tell me—who is my real mother, if it’s not Anna?”

John closed his eyes briefly, as if the weight of the truth drained him. When he opened them again, his expression was heavy with guilt and exhaustion.

“Her name is Rachel,” he finally said, his voice low but steady.

Gabriel froze, the unfamiliar name hanging in the air. “Rachel?” he repeated, as though the word itself felt strange on his tongue.

John nodded slowly. “Yes. And before you ask—she’s alive. Safe. Somewhere far away from here.”

The revelation hit Gabriel harder than any physical blow. He took a step back and sank into a leather chair before his father’s desk, his mind reeling.

“Then who is my father?” he asked quietly, voice trembling with uncertainty.

John ran a tired hand through his graying hair. “I am your father, Gabriel. That has never changed.”

Gabriel furrowed his brows, disbelief etched across his face. “I mean my real father.”

John’s tone sharpened. “I am your real father—by blood and by bond.”

Gabriel’s confusion deepened, turning into frustration. “That doesn’t make sense! You just said Anna isn’t my mother. How can that be—”

“The story is complicated,” John interrupted, his voice rising slightly. “That’s why I told you to leave it alone for now. There are more urgent matters to address.”

Gabriel stood, anger flaring again. “If you mean Anna, then it’s already handled. She’s behind bars as we speak.”

John’s head snapped up in surprise. “She’s been arrested already?”

“Yes,” Gabriel said firmly. “After everything she’s done, mother or not, I couldn’t let her go unpunished.”

A heavy silence settled between them, thick with unspoken truths.

John finally exhaled and walked slowly to the window. His reflection seemed smaller, older, defeated.

Then he spoke again, voice barely above a whisper. “Wyatt and Landon,” he said, “are not Anna’s children either.”

Gabriel’s head snapped up sharply. “What?”

John turned to face him, pale but calm. “None of you are, Gabriel. Not Wyatt. Not Landon. Not you.”

The words lingered in the air, heavy and final.

Gabriel’s face hardened as the weight of the revelation sank in. Everything he had believed about his family—the bonds, the loyalties—had just been rewritten.

For the first time in his life, he looked at his father not as a source of wisdom, but as a stranger harboring too many secrets.