~LAYLA~
Isabelle’s face cycled through emotions so quickly I could barely track them: shock, horror, fear, and then, suddenly, a mask of joy.
"Dad?" Her voice cracked. "Oh my God! We thought you were dead! Where have you been?"
The Duke’s expression remained cold. "I’ve been recovering from the poison you served in my afternoon tea for years. It was quite hard to believe that my own daughter tried to kill for my inheritance."
Loud gasps filled the ballroom. People turned to one another, whispering quickly, and the caras flashed even brighter.
"That’s absurd!" Isabelle’s voice rose. "I would never... after Mother died and Victoria left, I’ve been the devoted daughter, taking care of you, of business, the estate! How can you accuse of such a thing?"
"Devoted to my money, perhaps," the Duke said quietly, but his voice carried through the microphone. "I can’t believe I’ve been so blind... just because I trusted my daughter."
"You’re confused," Isabelle tried, her voice taking on a soothing tone. "You’ve been through trauma. You’re not thinking clearly..."
"I have evidence," the Duke interrupted. "dical records showing arsenic poisoning. Slowly administered over months. The doctors found traces in my system when I finally got real dical attention."
"He’s delirious!" Isabelle appealed to the crowd. "My father is clearly suffering from so kind of ntal breakdown. We need to get him help..."
"Actually," a voice called from the side of the ballroom, "His Grace is quite sound of mind."
Everyone turned. Pennysworth stepped forward, looking dignified despite everything he’d been through.
"Pennysworth?" Isabelle’s face went pale.
"Yes, ma’am. I’m afraid I must confess that after the Duke was hospitalised, you and Julian locked up. You tried to force to give up the Duke’s private journal, where he ntioned his wish to na Mrs Layla as his primary heir."
The crowd erupted in gasps and exclamations.
"That’s not true!" Isabelle shouted. "This is a conspiracy! They’re all lying!"
Prince Leopold raised his hand, and the ballroom doors opened again. This ti, police officers entered, moving toward the podium.
Isabelle’s eyes went wild. "You can’t do this! I’m Isabelle Hunington! I have rights!"
"So did I," the Duke said quietly. "The right to live. The right not to be poisoned by my own flesh and blood."
Isabelle’s careful mask finally shattered. "You ungrateful old man! After everything I’ve done for this family... for you! I kept the estate running! I maintained your reputation! And what do I get? Nothing! You give everything to her!" She pointed at with a shaking hand. "So girl who showed up out of nowhere!"
"You an after everything you’ve stolen?" the Duke countered. "The money you’ve siphoned? The assets you’ve tried to claim? I’ve been docunting your theft for months, Isabelle. Every fraudulent transaction, every forged signature."
"Mother, please." A voice from the back made everyone turn. Julian stood up. "Just stop. It’s over."
Isabelle whirled on her son. "You weak, pathetic nothing! Just like your father! Sitting there doing nothing while they destroy !"
"You destroyed yourself," Julian said quietly. "I tried to tell you to stop. I tried to warn you. But you never listen."
"Don’t you dare..."
"Ma’am," one of the officers interrupted, moving forward with handcuffs. "Isabelle Hunington, you’re under arrest for attempted murder, fraud, and unlawful imprisonnt."
"No!" Isabelle tried to back away, but there was nowhere to go. "This isn’t happening! This is a setup!"
"You have the right to remain silent," the officer continued, reaching for her wrists.
Isabelle fought, struggling against the officers. "Get your hands off ! Do you know who I am? I’ll destroy all of you! Every single one of you!"
They finally got the handcuffs on her, and as they led her toward the exit, she continued screaming. "This isn’t over! You hear ? I’ll be out in a week! I have the best lawyers! I’ll take everything from you!"
The ballroom doors closed behind her, muffling her threats.
Silence fell for a mont before conversation exploded like a dam breaking. Everyone was talking at once, phones out, fingers flying over screens as they shared the scandal with the world.
Prince Leopold stepped to the microphone, trying to restore order. "Ladies and gentlen, please. If I may have your attention."
The crowd gradually quieted.
The Duke returned to the podium, looking tired but triumphant. "Thank you all for your patience during this rather dramatic turn of events. I want to formally announce that I am, as you can see, very much alive. The reports of my death were, as I said, greatly exaggerated."
Nervous laughter rippled through the crowd.
"I want to thank each of you for your support during what you believed to be my passing," the Duke continued. "Your kind words and mories ant a great deal. I also want to publicly acknowledge two people who helped during this difficult ti."
He gestured toward Axel and . "My granddaughter, Layla Hunington O’Brien, and her husband, Axel O’Brien. Without their courage and dedication, I might not be standing here today."
Applause broke out. Caras swung toward us. I felt the room start to spin slightly.
"Layla has proven herself to be everything I could have hoped for in an heir," the Duke said warmly. "She is intelligent, brave, and compassionate. The Hunington legacy is in excellent hands."
More applause, louder this ti. The noise seed to press in on from all sides.
I gripped the armrest of my chair, trying to steady myself. My vision was getting fuzzy at the edges. The nausea that had been manageable all day was suddenly overwhelming.
"Axel," I whispered, reaching for his hand. "I don’t feel well."
He turned imdiately, concern flooding his face. "Layla?"
The Duke was still speaking, sothing about the future and rebuilding trust, but his words were getting distant. The ballroom seed to tilt.
"I need..." I started to stand, needing air, needing space, needing anything but this crushing press of people and noise and heat.
My legs gave out.
"Layla!" Axel’s voice was sharp with panic.
He caught in his arms before I fell, holding close to his chest. I saw worried, blurry faces looking down at .
"Soone call a doctor!" That was Helena’s voice.
"Give her space!" Tye, trying to push back the crowd.
"Layla, can you hear ?" Axel’s face was inches from mine, his eyes terrified. "Stay with . Please stay with ."
I tried to answer, wanted to tell him I was fine, but the words wouldn’t co. The ballroom was fading, the voices getting quieter, and the light dimming.
The last thing I heard before everything went black was Axel’s broken voice: "Please. Not her. Not now."
Then nothing.
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