Chapter 251: Isn’t She An Orphan?

Isobel could feel it.

The atmosphere had changed.

Only moments ago, the garden was filled with warm conversation and the soft clinking of glasses that carried from the ballroom.

Now, an invisible tension hung between Julian and Kristoff, so thick that Isobel felt as though one wrong word might shatter it.

Neither man raised his voice. Neither openly challenged the other.

But their eyes did enough talking.

Julian’s stare was sharp and distrustful.

Kristoff’s was calm and steady.

It felt less like a conversation between two men and more like two predators silently testing each other’s territory.

Isobel swallowed.

If this continues, they’re really going to fight.

She quickly stepped between the tension before either man could say something worse.

"I’m a little tired," she said, forcing a small smile. "Let’s go home."

Before Julian could respond, Isobel slipped her arm through Leanne’s.

The gesture was instinctive.

Yet the moment her arm settled against Leanne’s, Mary’s eyes followed the movement.

There was something almost intimate about it.

Not the kind of gesture one made toward a stranger.

Isobel looked completely at ease beside Leanne, as though she had already found a place beside her.

Mary’s smile faded slightly.

Since when did Isobel become this close to the Fosters?

She had thought Isobel was merely someone the family had taken an interest in.

But this...

This looked different.

"Let’s go," Leanne said softly, giving Isobel’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

Isobel nodded.

She followed Julian and Leanne toward the hotel entrance, with Kristoff walking beside them.

Mary had no choice but to follow.

Outside, the night air was cooler.

The hotel’s golden lights spilled across the driveway, illuminating a sleek black Bentley waiting at the curb. Its polished body reflected the lights like dark glass, making the vehicle look as imposing as the man who owned it.

Kristoff walked ahead and opened the rear door.

Leanne paused for a brief moment before getting inside.

Isobel moved around to the opposite side of the Bentley. She reached for the door handle, but before her fingers could touch it, the door swung open.

Kristoff was already there.

She blinked in surprise.

She hadn’t even noticed him following her around the car.

For a moment, their eyes met.

Kristoff said nothing. He simply held the door open for her, his expression calm and unreadable.

Isobel hesitated before quietly murmuring, "Thank you."

She slipped into the car, unaware that Kristoff’s gaze lingered on her for a second longer than necessary.

Then, for one fleeting second, her eyes met Kristoff’s. Something passed between them.

A silent exchange neither of them acknowledged.

Then Isobel looked away.

"Good night," Kristoff said.

The car door clicked shut.

Julian, who had yet to get inside, paused beside the Bentley.

His lips pressed into a thin line.

He hadn’t expected Kristoff to move so quickly.

Opening the car door for Leanne and Isobel had always been his instinctive role. He was the husband and the father.

Yet Kristoff had stepped into that role without hesitation—as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

Julian’s face darkened.

He turned toward Kristoff and shot him a pointed glare.

Kristoff met his eyes without the slightest trace of discomfort.

Instead, the corner of his mouth lifted.

It wasn’t quite a smile.

It was the faint, knowing curve of a man who understood exactly what had irritated the older man—and had no intention of apologizing for it.

Julian’s eyes narrowed.

That boy...

For a moment, neither man looked away.

Then Julian finally turned and climbed into the car, his expression still dark.

Behind him, Kristoff remained standing by the curb, that faint smile lingering on his lips.

The Bentley’s engine came to life with a low, powerful purr.

Kristoff stepped back as the car pulled away from the curb.

He remained where he was.

The Bentley rolled slowly down the driveway, its headlights cutting through the darkness before disappearing onto the main road.

Kristoff didn’t move.

He watched the red taillights grow smaller...

until they finally vanished into the night.

Only then did his expression change.

The polite smile disappeared.

His jaw tightened.

He slipped one hand into his pocket and stared at the empty road.

He hadn’t expected Julian and Leanne Foster to suddenly appear and take Isobel away.

But what bothered him even more was something he wasn’t ready to admit.

He already missed Isobel.

And she had only just left.

...

"Kristoff, tell me honestly. Why would the Fosters come all the way here just to pick up Isobel?"

Mary had cornered her son in the hotel lobby the moment the Bentley disappeared from sight.

She had been holding the question in ever since.

"Why would she call Julian ’Dad’ and Leanne ’Mom’?"

Kristoff stopped.

For the first time, a flicker of surprise crossed his face.

His mother had noticed.

She had actually heard Isobel call the Fosters Mom and Dad.

He turned to look at her.

"Mom, if Isobel called them that, then maybe they really are her parents."

He said it so casually that Mary’s eyes widened.

"You..."

She stared at him in disbelief.

"Don’t play games with me, Kristoff."

Her voice dropped.

"I’m serious. Do you know something I don’t?"

She stepped closer, lowering her voice even further.

"Isn’t Isobel an orphan? How could she suddenly have a relationship like that with the Fosters? Did they adopt her? Or..." She hesitated. "Did they take her as their goddaughter?"

Kristoff watched his mother for a moment.

Then a faint smile appeared on his lips.

"Mom."

"What?"

"Why don’t you ask a different question?"

Mary frowned.

Kristoff leaned slightly toward her.

"Ask yourself..."

He paused deliberately.

"Is Isobel Julian Foster’s daughter?"

Mary froze. Her eyes widened. For several seconds, she simply stared at him.

"Kristoff..."

Her voice came out barely above a whisper.

"You’re joking, right?"

Kristoff straightened.

His expression became unreadable.

"Do I look like I’m joking?"

Mary’s face drained of color.

Before she could process what he had just said, Kristoff turned and walked away.

"Kristoff!"

She hurried after him.

"Come back here! I’m not finished asking you questions!"

But Kristoff didn’t slow down.

He continued toward the parking area, leaving his mother standing in the middle of the lobby with a storm of questions racing through her mind.

Isobel... is Julian Foster’s daughter?

If that was true...

Then everything had just changed.