Chapter 95
Alfred’s lips curved into a calm, pleasant smile. His wrinkled hand lifted slightly, gesturing toward the chair beside Jeffrey Cavalier.
“Sit down, Isla p>
But Isla didn’t move. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ.net
For a second, she felt her heart stop. Fear rushed through her veins like ice. She thought that she was certain that the old man must have believed the same lie as Gabriel. Her instinct was to defend herself, to explain, to beg him to believe her. But before she could even open her mouth, Alfred’s next words stole the air from her lungs.
“Don’t be foolish, Isla,” he said evenly. “I set everything up. The fake pregnancy test results, the photos, all of it. I orchestrated everything. Now, sit down and hear me out p>
The world around her seemed to freeze. Isla stared, unblinking. Her knees wobbled, and she gripped the edge of the chair to steady herself.
“What… what did you just say?” she whispered, her voice trembling.
Alfred only watched her with that same composed expression, as if what he’d just confessed was nothing extraordinary.
It hit her like a thunderbolt. He was the one. He was the enemy she’d been searching for. The reason Gabriel turned cold, the reason he looked at her with disbelief instead of love. It had been Alfred all along.
Her throat tightened, tears gathering fast in her blue eyes until they blurred her sight. “Why?” Her voice cracked, soft and broken. “Why did you do that to me, Grandfather p>
She took a few small steps forward, shaking her head as disbelief and grief wrestled for control inside her.
Jeff remained silent, avoiding her gaze. His hands were folded on his lap, his face unreadable. He knew better than to interfere. Alfred Wyndham was not a man anyone dared to question–not even him.
The old man had built empires from nothing, manipulated industries, families, and even bloodlines to protect
his name.
Alfred finally sighed, resting both palms on his cane. His voice softened, but it held authority still.
“Maybe when you sit down, I’ll explain p>
He turned to Jeffrey. “You’re dismissed, Jeffrey. Thank you for your time p>
Jeff rose immediately, straightened his coat, and nodded politely to Isla. She didn’t return the gesture. Her eyes were too full of hurt to notice him. The door closed behind him with a soft click, sealing her inside the study with the man who had just shattered her trust.
She hated Jeffrey now. She believed he’d been part of the setup. Her stomach twisted at the thought.
Finally, Isla moved. Her legs felt heavy, but she forced herself to sit—just not on the seat Jeff had used. She
1/2
chose the chair beside it, her back straight, her expression bitter.
Alfred observed her quietly before speaking again.
“I’m sorry to have hurt you, Isla. But you must understand this: this has always been my way to keep an eye on my family. Every one of them. That’s how I’ve managed to keep this household from tearing itself apart all these years p>
Isla’s mouth parted slightly. Unbelievable. The old man sounded like he was talking about a game of chess, not her ruined marriage.
“Why do you think I liked you from the very beginning?” he asked.
She didn’t answer. Her fingers twisted together in her lap.
“It’s because I already knew who you were,” Alfred continued. “I knew everything about you, long before you married my grandson p>
That last sentence of his hit her. Isla’s eyes lifted slowly to meet his eyes. Confusion and disbelief swirling in them.
Alfred began to move, the tip of his cane tapping softly against the marble floor as he walked around the grand study. The walls were lined with tall bookshelves, old photographs, and relics of power–the legacy of the Wyndham family.
“I’m a paranoid man, Isla,” he said, his tone carrying both pride and regret. “I always have been. It’s what kept me alive, what kept this family alive p>
He paused near the window, staring out at the manicured gardens bathed in sunlight. “That side of me almost destroyed everything once. If I’d made one more mistake, perhaps by now I wouldn’t even have a grandson left… let alone a great–grandchild on the way p>
Isla’s breath caught. He sounded… remorseful. For the first time, she wondered if there was something deeper hidden beneath his cruel control.
She leaned forward slightly, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. Her voice was soft now. “What do you mean, Grandfather p>
He turned back to her, his expression unreadable, and said quietly–almost like a confession, “Gabriel, your husband, is not Anna’s son p>
The room spun beneath Isla’s feet. Her hands flew to her mouth, muffling a small gasp, and heartbeat pounded
in her ears.
Not Anna’s son?
She stared at him, wide–eyed, trying to process the words that had just altered everything she thought she knew about her husband, her marriage… and the powerful family she’d married into.
Two years–two long years of living beside Gabriel, loving him, fighting him, and she had never known this truth about him.
Florence
Florence is a passionate reader who finds joy in long drives on rainy days. She’s also a fan of Italian makeup tutorials, blending beauty and elegance into her everyday life.