Chapter 477

Isabella Morgan tilted her head slightly, her long lashes fluttering with practiced innocence. The burnt orange of her dress made her golden skin glow, while the neon lights caught the crimson of her lips, transforming her into a vision of temptation.

Before returning to Cresthaven, Isabella had heard whispers about Alexander Whitmore’s marriage. The entire flight, she had wondered—what kind of woman had finally captured his attention?

In their world, marriages were rarely about love. They were transactions, alliances between powerful families. Rumor had it that Alexander’s wife was the heiress of a prominent Cresthaven dynasty, so Isabella had assumed it was just another business arrangement.

But the way Alexander was acting now told a different story.

She knew him better than most—they had grown up together. Alexander was always composed, his emotions locked away behind an impenetrable mask. Even in the most chaotic situations, he remained unshaken.

Yet now, she saw something dangerous flicker in his gaze. Anger. Possessiveness.

It made her wonder—was his marriage more than just a contract?

Alexander didn’t move, his stance unyielding. Seizing the opportunity, Isabella stepped closer. "I recognize a few faces here," she murmured, her voice honeyed. "Would you introduce me?"

The Morgan family might have fallen from grace, but at their peak, they had been one of Cresthaven’s most influential dynasties. With a calculated smile, she reached out, her fingers brushing toward his arm.

"I'm your companion for the evening. We shared a dance. What's the issue?" Isabella dismissed his hesitation, stepping closer with deliberate grace.

Alexander's brow furrowed. He had only danced with her to provoke Dominic into calling off their engagement.

But presenting her to others would suggest something far more intimate between them. When Isabella reached for his arm again, Alexander retreated a step.

A flicker of irritation crossed Isabella's face, but she smoothed it away. Her gaze slid to where Evelyn had been standing moments ago. "Your wife and nephew vanished. Where could they have slipped off to at this hour?"

Alexander followed her line of sight. Evelyn and Ethan were indeed gone. The air between them thickened with unspoken tension before Alexander turned on his heel, disinterested.

Isabella exhaled dramatically, eyeing the ornate clock on the wall. "The auction begins soon. Surely you won't abandon me now?"

Neither noticed the watcher.

In a dimly lit surveillance room, a man swirled amber liquid in his glass, surrounded by screens broadcasting the gala's every move—even the whispers carried.

Dominic's sharp, mocking smile glinted in the monitor's glow. The guards behind him stood frozen, barely breathing. His moods were mercurial—deceptively calm one second, volcanic the next.

A decade behind bars had only made him more unreadable.

The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension.

Dominic Powell wasn’t a man to be trifled with. His reputation for ruthlessness was well-known, and few dared to cross him. Yet, someone had foolishly challenged him—openly, brazenly.

His men had witnessed it all. Isabella Morgan, his fiancée, had danced with Alexander Whitmore. The audacity of it was staggering.

Given Dominic’s volatile temper, they expected retribution. Even with Alexander’s protection, Isabella wouldn’t escape unscathed.

But Dominic didn’t react as they anticipated.

Instead, his fingers hovered over the remote, pressing a button that froze the surveillance footage. The screen locked onto a woman—Isabella.

She was breathtaking in white satin, pearls glinting at her ears. Yet, her eyes were rimmed red, as if she had been crying.

A slow, dangerous smirk curled Dominic’s lips.

“She’s crying…” he murmured, his voice dripping with dark amusement.

Secret Longing: Finding Love After Betrayal (Evelyn)