The Surrogate He Discarded
Chapter 247: The Scheme Failed
For several seconds, Isobel couldn’t process what had happened.
Kristoff had taken the entire splash himself.
He looked down at his stained shirt.
Then his gaze slowly lifted.
It landed on Selene.
The warmth that had been in his eyes moments earlier disappeared.
"Are you blind?"
His voice was low and dangerously calm.
Selene’s face. paled.
"I—I didn’t mean to—sorry!"
"You didn’t mean to?"
Kristoff took one step toward her.
Selene instinctively stepped backward.
"I slipped," she quickly explained. "It was an accident."
Kristoff’s eyes dropped briefly to her shoes.
Then returned to her face.
"You slipped."
He repeated the words with such icy disbelief that several nearby guests exchanged glances.
"Yes."
Selene forced a nervous smile.
"I lost my balance."
"Interesting."
Kristoff’s gaze hardened, his eyes dropping briefly to the empty wineglass in Selene’s hand before returning to her face.
"You lost your balance while holding the glass directly toward her?"
His voice was deceptively calm.
"You didn’t spill that wine by accident, Selene. You aimed it at her."
Selene’s lips parted.
For a moment, she looked as though she wanted to argue. But the words never came.
There was nothing she could say.
Kristoff had seen everything.
He stepped closer to her.
His voice dropped so low that only those nearest could hear.
"Whatever problem you have with Isobel, forget about it. She is someone I protect."
His eyes hardened.
"Don’t make me your problem."
Selene swallowed hard.
Before she could respond, a calm voice cut through the tension.
"Kristoff, dear."
Mary approached, her expression composed despite the whispers spreading around the ballroom. She glanced briefly at Selene before turning her attention to her son.
"Let it go," she said gently. "I saw what happened. It was an accident."
Kristoff’s jaw tightened.
He knew his mother well.
She wasn’t saying she believed Selene.
She was telling him not to turn a minor incident into a public confrontation.
The ballroom was already watching.
One more harsh word from him, and the incident would become tomorrow’s gossip.
Kristoff exhaled slowly, forcing the anger simmering beneath his calm expression back under control.
"Fine."
His gaze returned to Selene.
The look he gave her was cold enough to make her stiffen.
"Consider yourself lucky."
He turned away.
Before he could take another step, he felt a gentle tug on his coat.
Kristoff looked down.
Isobel was holding the hem of his jacket between her fingers.
"Kristoff..."
Her eyes dropped to his chest.
"Your shirt..."
Only then did he seem to remember the dark red wine soaking through the front of his immaculate shirt.
Kristoff glanced down at himself.
Then back at Isobel.
For some reason, her concerned expression eased the last of the anger from his face.
She reached toward the stained fabric instinctively.
He caught her wrist before her fingers could touch him.
"I’ll change."
His voice softened immediately.
Isobel looked up at him.
"Are you hurt?" Her voice was gentle and compassionate.
"No."
"You’re covered in wine."
"I know. That’s the only problem"
"But—"
"Your dress is fine."
Kristoff glanced down at her gown.
Not a single drop had touched it.
Only then did Isobel realize how close they were.
His body was positioned completely between her and Selene, as though he had instinctively decided that nothing would reach her as long as he was standing there.
Their eyes met.
For a fleeting moment, the noise of the ballroom seemed to disappear.
Isobel’s heart skipped.
Kristoff noticed.
His gaze lingered on her face before he slowly released her wrist.
But the protective tension in his expression remained.
Across from them, Selene’s face had become increasingly pale.
She hadn’t expected this.
She had expected Isobel’s expensive dress to be ruined.
She had expected embarrassment, even tears. Instead, Kristoff had blocked the wine and taken the humiliation for her.
And now half the ballroom was watching.
Whispers began spreading through the crowd.
"Was that really an accident?"
"I don’t think so."
"Selene looked directly at her before spilling it."
"Did you see Kristoff? He didn’t even hesitate."
Selene’s hands trembled around her empty wineglass.
She could feel the judgmental stares closing in from every direction.
She murmured something inaudible and hurried toward the exit. She needed to go to the restroom to compose herself again.
...
Kristoff’s attention immediately returned to Isobel, as though Selene had ceased to exist.
"Come with me."
"Where?"
"To get you away from this crowd."
"But your clothes—"
"I’ll change."
He placed a hand lightly against her back.
"I’m more concerned about you."
Isobel’s chest tightened.
She looked at the wine staining his expensive shirt.
She was thinking about one thing.
Kristoff had protected her in front of many people without hesitation.
And somehow, that simple act affected her far more deeply than it should have.
...
From across the ballroom, Mary watched Kristoff and Isobel with a darkening expression.
Again, her plan had failed.
Selene was supposed to humiliate Isobel, even drive her out of the ballroom in shame.
Instead, Kristoff had stepped in front of her without hesitation.
Mary’s fingers tightened around her glass.
Was Selene simply too stupid to carry out something so simple?
Or was Isobel simply too lucky?
No matter what Mary tried, Isobel somehow managed to escape unscathed.
And worse, every failed attempt seemed to push Kristoff closer to her.
Mary’s eyes narrowed.
She was running out of patience—and ideas.
But she refused to accept defeat.
Isobel needed to learn her place.
She needed to understand that even if Kristoff protected her a few times did not mean she belonged in their world. There were circles within their society that even money, success, or sudden recognition could not buy entry into.
And Kristoff belonged to one of those circles.
Mary’s lips curled into a faint, knowing smile.
Then, suddenly, her eyes brightened.
An idea.
A much better idea.
This time, Isobel won’t be able to escape.
Mary was just about to move toward her when a sudden commotion erupted near the ballroom entrance.
The music faltered as several guests turned toward the doors.
Whispers rippled through the crowd.
Then the guests began moving aside, one after another, creating a path through the center of the ballroom.
Mary stopped.
Her smile slowly disappeared.
Someone had just arrived.
And the moment she saw who had walked through the entrance, her eyes widened.
Them?
For the first time that evening, Mary realized that perhaps fate had just handed her the perfect opportunity.
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