Chapter 145: The Man Next Door

At Isobel’s hospital room, the lighthearted atmosphere vanished the moment Richard pulled a chair beside her bed. The concern on his face hardened into something far more serious.

He sat down, elbows resting on his knees, his eyes fixed on her.

"Tell me the truth, Isobel." His voice dropped. "What really happened last night? It wasn’t just an accident... was it?"

For a long moment, Isobel stared at the blanket covering her lap. The memories came rushing back—the suffocating darkness, the fear, the helplessness.

When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper.

"I was kidnapped."

"What?"

Richard shot to his feet so abruptly that the chair scraped loudly against the floor, nearly toppling over.

"Kidnapped?"

Disbelief and panic flashed across his face.

"Who did it? Why would anyone kidnap you?"

His voice grew increasingly frantic.

It made no sense.

Isobel was just an ordinary young woman. An orphan with no wealth, no powerful family, and no enemies that he knew of.

"Did you make an enemy at work?" he asked.

She slowly shook her head.

"I only started working recently."

"Then maybe you offended someone without realizing it."

"I don’t know." She sighed wearily. "Morgan is investigating."

Richard frowned.

His instincts told him there had to be a motive.

"Could it have been because of a love rival?" he asked cautiously. "Is there someone who’s pursuing you?"

The question sounded innocent enough. But Richard wasn’t asking out of mere curiosity.

He was testing her.

He had quietly looked into her background and discovered that while several men admired Isobel from afar, none had openly pursued her.

Except for two men who were brazen enough to dare come closer to her.

Morgan who seemed unusually protective of her.

And Kristoff who looked at her as if she was his possession.

Isobel lowered her gaze. Last night, she had suspected Charlotte.

But she couldn’t tell Richard. There wasn’t a shred of evidence.

Besides...

Why would Charlotte kidnap her? She was already engaged to Kristoff.

"I don’t have a suitor," Isobel answered softly. "And I don’t know anyone who wanted to pursue me."

Relief washed over Richard’s face.

Good.

Then he still had a chance.

He smiled warmly.

"In that case... would you let me pur—"

Before he could finish, the hospital room door swung open.

A nurse pushed Kristoff inside in his wheelchair.

The moment Kristoff saw Richard sitting so close to Isobel’s bed, his expression darkened.

"That man again."

His jaw tightened.

"Doesn’t he have a job?"

Then his cold gaze shifted to the bouquet resting on the bed and the neatly packed food containers on the bedside table.

"Sorry." Kristoff drawled. "I didn’t know you had company."

His voice was calm but there was an undercurrent in it.

Richard immediately caught the underlying sarcasm.

"I had a meeting nearby," Richard replied smoothly. "I thought I’d stop by."

He spoke to Kristoff but his gaze never left Isobel’s.

"Besides, Isobel is someone important to me. Visiting her is only natural."

Silence stretched between the two men.

Then Richard’s eyes drifted toward the thick bandages wrapped around Kristoff’s injured ankle.

"What a coincidence."

A faint smile tugged at his lips.

"You’re hospitalized too."

Kristoff let out a quiet chuckle.

"It isn’t a coincidence."

Richard narrowed his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

Before Kristoff could answer, Isobel spoke.

"Kristoff saved me last night."

Her fingers unconsciously tightened around the blanket.

"If it weren’t for him... and Morgan..." Her voice trembled. "I might have died."

The horrifying memories sent a violent shiver through her body. If Kristoff hadn’t risked everything and made that desperate leap, the kidnappers would have reached her.

Trapped with no way out, there was no telling what desperate, cornered people were capable of doing. The thought alone made her blood run cold.

Richard froze. His heartbeat sank.

Kristoff...

Morgan...

They had stood beside her at the darkest moment of her life, when death had been frighteningly close. He hadn’t even known she was in danger until it was all over.

Jealousy. Frustration. Helplessness.

All three emotions churned violently inside him.

"What really happened?" Richard asked quietly.

He leaned forward and gently took both of Isobel’s hands in his own.

"Tell me everything."

Across the room, Kristoff fell silent.

His gaze drifted to Richard’s hands enclosing Isobel’s, and something cold settled behind his eyes.

His expression never changed, yet the air around him seemed to grow heavier. A dangerous darkness flickered beneath his calm expression.

Morgan.

Richard.

One after another, they come to her without hesitation.

They stood close enough to comfort her.

Close enough to make her smile.

Close enough to hold her hand.

His jaw tightened.

For reasons he refused to examine, he hated the sight.

His fingers slowly curled against the armrest of his wheelchair until his knuckles turned white.

"Mr. Learson."

Kristoff’s deep voice cut through the silence.

"The psychiatrist advised against making her relive what happened."

His eyes held Richard’s.

"She has suffered enough."

"Questioning her now will only reopen the trauma."

Richard’s lips pressed into a thin line.

As much as he disliked hearing it from Kristoff...he knew the man was right.

Richard released Isobel’s hands.

"I’m so sorry, Isobel."

His voice softened into the same gentle tone he always reserved for her.

"You don’t have to talk about it."

She offered him a small, grateful smile.

"It’s okay... Richie. I’ll tell you. Kristoff saw me kidnapped at the mall, then he followed the kidnapper’s vehicle and that’s how he found me.

Richie.

The nickname echoed through the room.

Something warm stirred inside Richard’s chest.

Something icy settled inside Kristoff’s. His jaw tightened.

Without another word, he wheeled himself farther into the room until he stopped beside the bed directly opposite Richard, as though staking his claim to the space.

Isobel looked between the two men.

"Do you need something, Kristoff?"

She asked in confusion.

"Weren’t you supposed to be resting?"

Kristoff met her eyes, his expression instantly softening.

"I was."

A faint smile touched his lips.

"But the room next door was unbearably quiet."

His gaze briefly flicked toward Richard before returning to her.

"So I came here."

He paused.

"I’m bored."