Chapter 6:The woman everyone trustee

I stared at Isabella.

She had approached me with the same gentle expression I remembered from the novel, but her voice carried an urgency that didn’t match her appearance.

“What do you want to tell me?” I asked.

Her eyes briefly moved toward the reception area where Nathaniel had disappeared.

“Not here.”

I glanced around the ballroom. Several guests were engaged in conversations, while others were watching Adrian as he spoke with a group of businessmen.

“Then perhaps you should tell me another time.”

Isabella hesitated.

“Seraphina, I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

I didn’t know whether she was trying to help me or whether this was another attempt to draw me into the complicated relationship between her and Adrian.

In the original storyline, Isabella was portrayed as the innocent woman constantly tormented by a jealous wife. However, I was beginning to understand that the novel had presented events from a very limited perspective.

I wasn’t going to trust someone simply because the author had described her as kind.

Isabella lowered her voice.

“Your husband isn’t the only person in his family making decisions that affect you.”

I studied her face.

“Are you referring to Nathaniel?”

Her expression changed.

“You know about him?”

“I know he’s Adrian’s uncle.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Before I could ask her to explain, someone called her name.

She glanced over her shoulder.

“I have to go. But please, be careful about the people you trust.”

She walked away before I could respond.

I remained where I was, considering her words.

Perhaps she genuinely knew something.

Or perhaps she wanted me to become suspicious of Adrian’s family for reasons of her own.

Either way, I needed more information.

I found Adrian near the stage.

He was speaking with Nathaniel, who appeared perfectly relaxed.

When Adrian noticed me, he excused himself from the conversation.

“Where have you been?”

“Talking to someone.”

His gaze shifted toward Isabella.

“Her?”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Is that a problem?”

“Whatever she tells you, don’t involve yourself in her affairs.”

I almost laughed.

“That’s interesting advice coming from someone who has spent years involving himself in hers.”

His expression hardened.

“Seraphina.”

I held up a hand.

“Don’t worry. We had a brief conversation. Nothing more.”

He studied me as though trying to determine whether I was telling the truth.

“Good.”

I glanced toward Nathaniel.

“Your uncle seems very comfortable tonight.”

“Why wouldn’t he be?”

“No reason.”

Adrian followed my gaze.

“Have you spoken to him?”

“Briefly.”

“What did he say?”

“That I should enjoy the evening.”

Adrian looked unconvinced.

“Stay away from unnecessary family discussions tonight.”

I turned toward him.

“Is there a particular discussion I should avoid?”

“You’re looking for trouble.”

“No, Adrian. I’m beginning to think trouble has been here long before I arrived.”

His expression changed, but before he could respond, the event host announced the beginning of the charity presentation.

We took our seats.

The presentation lasted nearly forty minutes.

I listened to speeches about the foundation’s educational and medical initiatives, occasionally applauding with the other guests.

Then a familiar name appeared on the screen.

Westbridge Holdings.

I straightened.

The company had been listed among the major contributors to the foundation’s latest development project.

I glanced toward Nathaniel.

He was seated two rows ahead, speaking quietly with another director.

My attention returned to the screen.

The presenter announced that Westbridge Holdings had recently expanded its investment portfolio through several strategic partnerships.

I couldn’t help wondering whether the company was connected to the suspicious transfers involving Vale Atelier.

A soft voice interrupted my thoughts.

“You’re paying close attention.”

I turned.

Adrian was watching me.

“Shouldn’t I?”

“It’s a charity presentation.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t listen.”

He looked toward the screen.

“Westbridge is one of our investment partners.”

My fingers tightened around my clutch.

“Yours?”

“Kingsley Corporation has several partnerships with them.”

“Interesting.”

He glanced at me.

“Why?”

“Nothing.”

I wasn’t ready to tell him about the documents.

Not until I had something concrete.

The presentation ended, and guests began moving toward the dining area.

I waited until Adrian was distracted by another conversation before approaching the event coordinator.

“Excuse me. Could you tell me who handles the foundation’s corporate partnerships?”

The woman smiled.

“That would be Mr. Nathaniel Kingsley and our finance director.”

“Thank you.”

I was about to leave when she added something.

“Are you interested in making a contribution, Mrs. Kingsley?”

“Possibly. I’d like to understand how the funds are managed first.”

She nodded and handed me a brochure.

I accepted it.

The document contained a list of the foundation’s major partners, their contributions, and the projects they supported.

I scanned the names.

Westbridge Holdings appeared twice.

So did another company I recognized from the Vale Atelier records.

My stomach tightened.

This was becoming more than a coincidence.

I found a quiet corner near the balcony and opened the brochure on my phone.

The company connected to Vale Atelier had contributed a substantial amount to the foundation only a few months after the fashion house collapsed.

I checked the dates.

The timing was suspicious.

If the company had acquired shares from Seraphina shortly before her wedding, how had it become wealthy enough to make such a large contribution so quickly?

I was still examining the figures when a familiar voice interrupted me.

“Mrs. Kingsley.”

I looked up.

Nathaniel stood a few feet away, holding a glass of wine.

“Uncle Nathaniel.”

“Enjoying the event?”

“Very much.”

His eyes moved to the brochure on my phone.

“Interested in the foundation’s work?”

“I’m considering supporting one of its projects.”

“That’s generous of you.”

He took a slow sip of his drink.

“Although I must say, you’ve become rather interested in business matters recently.”

I kept my expression neutral.

“Is that unusual?”

“For you? A little.”

I smiled politely.

“People can learn new things.”

“Certainly.”

He stepped closer.

“Just be careful not to involve yourself in matters you don’t fully understand. Business can be unforgiving, especially when family interests are involved.”

The warning was delivered casually, almost like friendly advice.

But I knew better than to dismiss it.

“Thank you for the advice.”

He nodded and walked away.

I watched him disappear into the crowd.

There was something about his manner that bothered me. He spoke as though he knew exactly what I was investigating, yet he had offered no direct explanation.

I returned the brochure to my clutch.

By the time the gala ended, I was exhausted.

Adrian and I were seated in the car when he finally spoke.

“What did Isabella tell you?”

I turned toward him.

“Why?”

“Because you’ve been distracted all evening.”

“She said something about your family.”

His expression immediately changed.

“What?”

“She said there was something I should know.”

Adrian let out a quiet breath.

“Isabella enjoys involving herself in things that don’t concern her.”

“Perhaps you should ask her what she meant.”

“I don’t need to.”

I studied him.

“Then you already know what she was talking about?”

He looked out of the window.

“Seraphina, don’t start something you won’t understand.”

I almost responded, but stopped.

That sentence was becoming familiar.

Every time I asked a question, someone told me I didn’t understand.

Perhaps that was exactly why the original Seraphina had been so easy to manipulate.

I turned toward the window.

“I think I’ll decide for myself what I understand.”

The rest of the journey passed in silence.

Back at the mansion, I changed out of my gown and placed the gala brochure on my desk.

I was about to put away my jewelry when I noticed a small folded paper tucked inside my clutch.

I frowned.

I hadn’t placed it there.

I opened it.

There was a single handwritten sentence.

Ask your husband why he allowed the Vale shares to be transferred.

My breathing slowed.

I read the words again.

Then I looked toward the bedroom door.

Adrian had gone downstairs to take a call.

Someone at the gala had placed this message inside my belongings.

Someone knew about the Vale Atelier transactions.

And more importantly, someone believed Adrian had been involved.

I sat down slowly.

Until now, I had considered the possibility that Nathaniel was responsible.

But what if Adrian knew more than he was admitting?

What if the man I was supposed to investigate was the very man I slept under the same roof with?

The door opened.

I quickly folded the paper and slipped it beneath my notebook.

Adrian entered, loosening his tie.

“You’re still awake?”

“Yes.”

He glanced at my desk.

“What are you doing?”

“Reading.”

His eyes remained on me for a moment.

Then he approached the bedside table and placed his phone down.

“Seraphina.”

I looked up.

“Yes?”

“If you’ve discovered something about my family, I suggest you come to me before making assumptions.”

My heart skipped.

I kept my expression calm.

“Why would you say that?”

He held my gaze.

“Because I know you have questions.”

For several seconds, neither of us moved.

Then he turned away.

“Goodnight.”

I watched him walk into the bathroom.

When the door closed, I slowly reached for the folded note.

I had wanted to stay out of Adrian’s affairs.

But someone was making that increasingly difficult.

And I was beginning to suspect that the truth behind Vale Atelier might be buried much closer to my marriage than I had imagined.