Chapter 336

Isabelle was momentarily stunned but quickly recovered. "Naturally! You're my sister—your concerns are mine. Knowing your feelings for Mr. Black, of course I care about your relationship with him."

"Is that so?" Evelyn arched an eyebrow, her smile laced with quiet irony.

"What's wrong?" Isabelle blinked, feigning innocence.

Evelyn lazily lifted her gaze, locking eyes with Isabelle before asking with a sardonic twist of her lips, "So every word you said to Nathan was out of sisterly concern?"

Isabelle stiffened, a shadow of discomfort flickering across her face.

"What exactly did Isabelle say to Nathan?" Eleanor interjected sharply.

With deliberate calm, Evelyn recounted Nathan's version of events.

A suffocating silence descended upon the room.

Eleanor's expression darkened as the implications sank in.

Isabelle sprang to her feet, hands fluttering in distress. "Evelyn, please understand—it was an honest mistake! I acted without thinking."

She rapped her knuckles against her temple in exaggerated frustration.

"I only wanted to clarify the misunderstanding for you, but I moved too quickly, lost my balance, and nearly collided with Mr. Black. But I swear I never touched him—not even his sleeve!"

Her voice trembled with manufactured sincerity. "You must believe me. I'd never intentionally hurt you. This family has shown me nothing but kindness—how could I betray that? Please..."

Evelyn remained impassive, her silence more damning than any accusation.

Eleanor too said nothing, her lips pressed into a thin line.

Overcome by her own performance, Isabelle suddenly slapped her own cheek. "This is all my fault! My careless words ruined everything!" She repeated the gesture, eyes glistening with crocodile tears.

Both women recoiled at the theatrics—an unsettling echo of Grace Monroe's manipulative playbook.

"Enough!" Eleanor snapped.

Isabelle froze mid-sob, biting her lip as she turned pleading eyes toward the older woman. "Eleanor... surely you don't doubt me?"

The matriarch exhaled slowly before addressing Evelyn. "I don't believe Isabelle meant any harm." Having raised the girl herself, Eleanor refused to entertain the possibility of such calculated betrayal.

It wasn't so much faith in Isabelle as confidence in her own judgment—she couldn't have nurtured deceit in her own household.

Evelyn acquiesced to her grandmother's wisdom, though suspicion coiled like a serpent in her chest.

"Let's eat," she finally said, breaking the tense silence.