Chapter 342

The dim glow of the computer screen cast eerie shadows across the darkened study.

Nathaniel Blackwood's fingers hovered over the keyboard as he replayed the surveillance footage from Pinecrest Manor for the seventh time. His jaw clenched tighter with each repetition.

He needed to confirm Cassandra Delacroix's accusation. That Isabella's pride had caused the tragedy.

The video advanced frame by frame under his command. Each click of the mouse revealed Isabella's cruel taunts, her merciless shove, her cold indifference as Cassandra lay bleeding.

Nathaniel's knuckles turned white gripping the desk. The veins in his temples pulsed visibly. A guttural curse tore from his throat. "Goddamn it!"

He'd never considered Isabella evil before. Stubborn, yes. Strong-willed, absolutely. But this footage showed a side of her that turned his stomach.

How could she harm an innocent child? His child.

With trembling hands, Nathaniel snatched his phone and dialed Ethan Young. "Bring Isabella to Edinburgh immediately," he commanded, voice like ice. "She will apologize to Cassandra and explain herself to my family."

Even through the phone, Ethan could feel the storm of Nathaniel's rage.

But duty compelled honesty. "Mr. Blackwood... Miss Lockhart is gone."

"Gone?" Nathaniel's voice dropped dangerously low. "Where? Where would she go?"

"Unknown, sir." Ethan hesitated. "She came to me a week ago. Said her goodbyes. Mentioned she might never return to Harborview City. Prepared gifts for Blackwood Group staff. Left a message for you—"

Nathaniel's chest constricted. Was she running from guilt? Escaping without facing consequences?

Yet he vaguely recalled her mentioning departure plans before. He'd thought it empty threats. Now he realized—she'd been planning this all along.

"What message?" Nathaniel ground out, phone creaking in his grip.

"She apologized. Said she hopes your feud ends here. That she never wants to see you again." Ethan sighed. "The staff had bets on you reconciling. Looks like everyone loses."

Nathaniel scoffed. "Distraught? Don't be absurd."

A tempest of emotions raged within him—anger, betrayal, something disturbingly close to panic. One certainty remained: he wouldn't let her disappear.

Not like this.

"Find her," Nathaniel ordered. "Track every exit from the city. I want her brought to me."

For the first time in his life, Nathaniel Blackwood felt control slipping through his fingers.

Moonlight silhouetted his rigid frame against the floor-to-ceiling windows. A predator poised to strike.

"I tried, sir." Ethan's voice turned cautious. "Closed all city exits when you separated. But Miss Lockhart... she vanished. No trace. No leads."

"You're joking." Nathaniel's voice held deadly calm.

"No, sir. It's like she disappeared into thin air."