All Chapters of His Betrayal, His Regret: Chapter 411 - Chapter 420

Isabel’s POVSince that mob of unscrupulous reporters had forced their way into my life, I had barely left my room. The world outside felt hostile, filled with prying eyes and whispered accusations. My mind was a battlefield—one I was rapidly losing control over. Were the things I remembered even real? Were my memories just fragments of paranoia and stress? I didn’t know anymore.But the worst part was the guilt. The guilt at my inability to be the mother Liam needed, the support for Elena. They were left to the maids when Emerson was at work. I couldn’t even fulfill my duties at work. Though uncle Eric was understanding and told me to take all the time I needed. Still, I felt like I was failing every single person I cared about.I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the dark and motionless wall. The silence in my room pressed in on me, thick and suffocating. I should have felt safe here. But instead, every second alone with my own thoughts was another moment of torment.The sudde

Isabel’s POV“Oh, you’re back! How are you feeling, ma’am?”Marianne’s warm voice greeted us the moment we stepped inside the villa. She stood in the foyer, her hands clasped neatly in front of her apron, her eyes filled with familiar concern. Normally, I would have felt comforted by her presence—Marianne had worked for this family for years, and I had always trusted her like a second mother. But now, that trust was riddled with cracks.Emerson and I exchanged a look. There was something heavy in the air between us. An unspoken understanding that everything had changed.“I’m... okay,” I said, though my voice felt hollow. “Thanks.”Marianne smiled, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—uncertainty, perhaps? Or was I just imagining it? “I was just about to go out to buy groceries, but Michael disagreed. Did something happen?” she asked.I hesitated. Emerson didn’t.“Marianne, we need to ask you about the scented candles you’ve been bringing into the house.” His tone was fir

Sebastian/Elias’s POV“Ugh,” I groaned, my voice raw and low with sleepless surrender. A sliver of sunlight slipped through a crack in the wall. A thin, mocking reminder that another morning had arrived.The cold bit into my skin like the sharp edge of a blade. The pain of the chains holding my arms overhead was relentless. They had cut into my wrists until the skin had been rubbed raw. Blood had dried and cracked along my forearms. The dull ache merged with the bruises and gashes that covered my body. I no longer knew how long I had been here. Days? Weeks? It could have been months.Time stretched endlessly in the dim chamber, swallowed by the darkness that pressed in from all sides.My last clear memory before waking in this hellhole was the mission. A simple retrieval, or so I had thought. I had been careful, thorough—yet somehow, I had walked right into an ambush. A sharp pain at the base of my skull told me they had knocked me out. I had awoken in chains. Disoriented, aching,

Isabel’s POVThe fog had finally lifted.After days of treatment under the guidance of medical experts, the poison’s grip on my mind had loosened. My thoughts were clearer. My body, once sluggish and foreign, was finally my own again. Emerson had been a pillar through it all. His quiet elation was evident in the way his gaze lingered on me. In the way his fingers often ‘accidentally’ brushed against mine. As if to reassure himself that I was still here—still me.I still couldn’t bring myself to truly look in the mirror—not after the last time, when the reflection staring back at me had been a hollow, broken version of myself. But as I moved past, my eyes flickered to the glass, catching a glimpse. For the first time in what felt like forever, I didn’t just see the damage—the dark circles, the lingering weariness in my expression. No, beneath all that, there was something else. A spark. A glimmer of the woman I used to be. The one who had returned to Rivermont not as a victim, but a

Isabel’s POVI turned to Margot, still catching my breath from the sheer adrenaline moments ago. The weight of what had just happened pressed down on me. Elena could have fallen. She could have—I shook the thought away, instead focusing on Margot.“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice softer than I expected.Margot sighed, rubbing her temples. “It’s a long story,” she admitted, then gave a small, almost shy smile. “One that might actually make you happy.”I raised a brow, intrigued despite the lingering fear curling in my stomach.Margot exhaled deeply, her fingers tracing over Elena’s curls absentmindedly. “I found out Caleb was the one who provided me with the best medical resources after… everything that happened.” She gestured vaguely, referring to the months of struggle, of pain, of uncertainty. “I didn’t even know. He never told me.”My heart clenched at the sincerity in her voice. Caleb had done so much for her in silence, expecting nothing in return. That was just who