Chapter 134

Julian Montgomery seemed to sense Isabella Sinclair's hesitation. "I can assure you," he said firmly, "personal matters will never affect business dealings between me and your uncle."

Isabella studied his face. "You're certain about this?"

"Absolutely."

She knew Charles Sinclair's company was struggling. After a brief pause, she nodded. "Alright then."

"Just tell me when you're available," Julian said. "I'll arrange the meeting."

"Fine," Isabella agreed.

The night breeze ruffled her dark hair as Julian glanced at her. "It's getting cold. You should go inside."

The words struck her - identical to what Alexander Whitmore had said earlier that evening.

She gave a curt nod and slid into her car without another word.

Julian remained standing there.

As she drove past him, Isabella lowered her window just enough to acknowledge him with a brief nod before accelerating away.

He watched until her taillights disappeared before entering his own vehicle.

Back at the Sinclair estate, Margaret, Charles, and Caroline were still awake, though William and Edward had retired upstairs.

"You're back," Margaret observed as Isabella entered.

"Yes." Seeing her grandmother's outstretched hand, Isabella set down her purse and joined her on the sofa. Margaret clasped her granddaughter's hands. "Isabella, have you... moved on from Alexander?"

Her demeanor toward him tonight had been markedly different. The change was impossible to miss. "Yes," Isabella confirmed. "We're proceeding with the divorce."

Margaret's face lit up. "Good. That's very good."

But then concern creased her brow. "Sophia's quite attached to him, and truthfully, he's been wonderful with her these past two years. He won't relinquish custody easily. This could be—"

Isabella had no intention of fighting for custody. But she kept that to herself.

"I understand," she said instead. "We'll discuss it properly. It's late—everyone should rest."

While the others retired, Isabella's night was far from over.

Frederick Aldridge and Nathaniel Graves had been debating various topics during their ride home. By the time Isabella reached her room, Nathaniel had already sent her a detailed task list.

His message read: For the professor. Deadline: 6 AM tomorrow.

Isabella took a sip of water before responding: Understood.

Without bothering to remove her makeup or shower, she immediately booted up her laptop and began working.

At precisely 4:17 AM, she sent the completed files.

Nathaniel, also buried in work, responded moments later: Professor wants us at his office before nine.

Acknowledged, Isabella typed back.

No further conversation ensued.

After shutting down her computer, she finally attended to her neglected skincare routine.

By the time she finished showering, the clock showed 5:23 AM.

She set a three-hour alarm before finally turning off the lights.

When the alarm jarred her awake, every muscle protested. But she forced herself up and into the shower.

Her exhaustion was evident when she descended the stairs.

Margaret frowned. "You should sleep longer."

"Can't. Meeting with Professor Aldridge."

Knowing Frederick's exacting standards, Margaret simply said, "You shouldn't drive in this state. Take the chauffeur."

Isabella nodded.

At Frederick's villa, the three immediately sequestered themselves in his study and began working.