Chapter 140 Chapter 140
Chapter 140 Chapter 140
Hart residence, Different world here, darker one, desperate one, broken one.
Kelvin in study, surrounded by papers, legal documents, medical reports, everything related to getting her out of facility, out of consequences, out of justice.
Phone calls made all day, lawyers, doctors, psychiatrists, anyone who could help, could declare her sane, could set her free.
“Six months,” one doctor said on phone earlier. “Maybe less if she cooperates with treatment, shows improvement. We could petition court for release.”
Six months. Kelvin wrote it down, circling it, timeline, goal, plan.
Margaret sitting on couch nearby, watching husband work, grateful he was trying, grateful he understood, grateful he loved daughter too.
“We’ll get her out,” Margaret said, more to herself than him. “We’ll bring our baby home.”
“I know,” Kelvin said, tired but determined. “We will.”
Door opening, sudden, loud, angry.
Marcus Hart entering, face red, furious, holding newspaper, today’s one with headlines about Isabella, about court case, about everything wrong.
“What are you doing?” Marcus demanded, throwing newspaper on desk, on papers, on plans.
Kelvin looked up at son, at Marcus, who left years ago, who came back only for court, who stayed now, apparently to fight.
“What does it look like?” Kelvin asked, defensive, already knowing what coming.
“It looks like you’re trying to get Isabella out,” Marcus said, pointing at papers, at names of doctors, at evidence of plot.
“She’s our daughter,” Margaret interjected, standing up, protective of plans, of husband, of hope.
“She’s criminal!” Marcus shouted, losing patience immediately. “She kidnapped someone, tortured her, almost killed her, and you want to get her out?”
“She’s sick,” Margaret insisted, desperate, needing him to understand. “She needs help, needs us, needs family.”
“She needs to pay for what she did!” Marcus countered, stepping closer, not backing down. “She needs consequences, needs justice, needs to learn actions have results.”
“We’re her parents,” Kelvin said, trying to stay calm, trying to reason. “It’s our job to protect her.”
“It was your job,” Marcus corrected, harsh, true, painful. “When she was child, when she was teenager, when there was still chance to save her.”
He paused, breathing hard, years of frustration pouring out.
“But you didn’t,” Marcus continued, voice breaking slightly. “You let her do whatever she wanted, gave her everything she asked for, never said no, never set limits, never made her face reality.”
“That’s not fair,” Margaret protested, tears starting, guilt rising.
“It’s completely fair!” Marcus shouted, pointing at them, at parents who failed, who enabled, who created monster.
“You blamed yourselves for being busy, for working too much, for not being there enough,” Marcus said, listing everything, everything wrong. “So you compensated with money, with things, with letting her get away with everything.”
“We did our best,” Kelvin said, weak, knowing it wasn’t good enough, knowing son was right.
“Your best wasn’t enough!” Marcus said, cruel but true. “And now look at her, look at what she became, look at what you created.”
Margaret sobbed openly now, unable to hold it in, unable to deny truth anymore.
“We love her,” she whispered through tears, only defense left.
“Love isn’t enough,” Marcus said, quieter now, sad instead of angry. “Love without boundaries, love without discipline, love without accountability, that’s not love, that’s destruction.”
He walked to desk, looking at papers, at plans to free sister, to let her escape again.
“If you do this,” Marcus said, looking at parents directly, warning them seriously. “If you get Isabella out, the Callahan and Blake families will destroy you.”
“They already threatened us,” Kelvin admitted, remembering Landon outside courthouse, remembering rage there, remembering promise of destruction.
“Then you know I’m not exaggerating,” Marcus said, firm, certain, scared for them despite everything. “Those families are ruthless when protecting their own.”
“We have money too,” Margaret argued, stubborn, refusing to give up. “We have power too, we can fight them.”
“No, you can’t,” Marcus said, flat, final, knowing truth. “Callahan family controls half of Manhattan real estate, banking, media, everything. Blake family same level power, same level influence.”
He paused, making sure they understood completely.
“Together they could destroy Hart Industries in days,” Marcus said, not exaggerating, just stating facts. “Stock price would crash, investors would flee, contracts would be cancelled, everything you built would be gone.”
“They wouldn’t,” Kelvin said, but uncertain, knowing they would, remembering Landon’s eyes, cold, promising vengeance.
“They would,” Marcus insisted. “And they’d be right to do it. Isabella tortured Landon’s pregnant wife. You think he’ll let that go if you free her?”
Silence in room, heavy, suffocating, truth settling like weight on shoulders, on hearts, on everything.
“What do you want us to do?” Kelvin asked finally, defeated, understanding impossible situation.
“Let her stay there,” Marcus said, simple, direct, only solution. “Let her get treatment, real treatment. Let her pay for what she did. Let her face consequences, finally.”
“She’s our daughter,” Margaret repeated, broken record, only thing she could say.
“And she’s my sister,” Marcus said, gentler now, understanding pain, sharing it even. “I love her too, but love means letting her face this, letting her learn, letting her change, maybe.”
“What if she doesn’t change?” Margaret asked, fear real in voice.
“Then at least she’s somewhere she can’t hurt anyone else,” Marcus said, harsh but necessary. “At least other families are safe from her.”
Kelvin looked at papers on desk, at plans carefully made, at hope of bringing daughter home.
Then he started gathering them, stacking them together, preparing to destroy them.
“What are you doing?” Margaret asked, panicked, seeing husband giving up.
“Listening to our son,” Kelvin said, tired, defeated, but right finally. “He’s right. We can’t get Isabella out. Can’t risk everything. Can’t put more people in danger.”
“No!” Margaret shouted, rushing to desk, grabbing papers from him. “No. We have to try, have to save her, have to bring her home!”
“Margaret,” Kelvin said, gentle but firm. “We can’t.”
“Yes we can!” Margaret insisted, clutching papers to chest, refusing to let go. “I’m her mother. I won’t abandon her. Won’t leave her there. Won’t give up.”
Marcus looked at mother, seeing desperation, seeing denial, seeing everything that created Isabella in first place.
“Then you’ll do it alone,” Kelvin said, standing up, walking away from desk, from plans, from madness. “I’m done. I’m listening to Marcus. I’m protecting what we have left.”
“Kelvin!” Margaret cried, betrayed, abandoned, alone.
But he kept walking out of study, into hallway, away from wife who couldn’t see truth, who wouldn’t accept reality, who would destroy everything for daughter who didn’t deserve it.
Marcus stayed with mother, watching her cry, watching her break, watching her choose wrong thing again.
“Mom,” he said, quiet, sad, knowing already she wouldn’t listen. “Please don’t do this. Please let her go.”
“I can’t,” Margaret whispered, still holding papers, still planning, still hoping. “She’s my baby. I can’t give up on her.”
“Even if it destroys you?” Marcus asked. “Even if it destroys us all?”
“Even then,” Margaret said, looking at son with eyes full of tears, full of determination, full of mother love gone wrong.
Marcus shook head, giving up on her too, knowing she was lost, like Isabella in different way.
He left too, leaving mother alone in study with papers, with plans, with obsession that would ruin her.
And Margaret sat down at desk, looking at names of doctors, of lawyers, of people who could help.
She would get Isabella out, with or without husband, with or without son, with or without anyone.
Because that’s what mothers did, saved their children no matter what, no matter cost, no matter consequences.
Even if wrong, even if destructive, even if end of everything.