Chapter 76 CONCERNED AND VISIT

Chapter 76 CONCERNED AND VISIT
In Spade’s Car

Spade could hardly believe he was secretly following Isabella to her destination—all to ensure she arrived safely, especially since she hadn’t fully recovered from her illness.

Earlier, he’d tried to stop her, but it was no use. She’d insisted on leaving and even refused his offer to drive her.

“Why am I doing this? I feel like a stalker, but I’m just worried sick about her. I told her to stay in her room because she’s still unwell—does she really want to see him that badly?” Spade muttered, his brow furrowed at the thought of Isabella meeting her lover.

“Why does that bother me so much?”

He pulled over to the side of the road as he watched Isabella step out of a taxi. His gaze remained fixed on her until a black car pulled up and stopped in front of her. The door opened, and Tristan emerged, immediately approaching her. When Spade saw him take Isabella’s hand and cup her face, a surge of irritation flared within him.

“I really don’t like that man—he touches her so freely,” Spade commented, then froze, his forehead creasing in confusion.

“Why do I sound like a jealous husband? Why am I acting this way all of a sudden?” he wondered aloud as Isabella climbed into Tristan’s car and drove away.

Part of him wanted to follow the pair, but he forced himself not to. His mind was already reeling—at first, he’d barely cared about Isabella, as he couldn’t even remember her. But after meeting Tristan with her, everything had become muddled.

“What is happening to me? I’m so confused.” With that, Spade started his car and pulled away.

Instead of heading back to his penthouse, he drove straight to his father’s company. After parking, he strode inside and took the elevator to the top floor—where only his father’s office was located.

When Spade entered the office, he found his father busy at his laptop.

“Hey, Dad,” he called out, drawing his father’s attention. The older man paused his work and turned to face him.

“You should be resting at home. What are you doing here?”

Spade sank onto the long sofa and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling.

“Isabella’s still sick. You shouldn’t have let her go alone—even if you don’t remember her,” his father said, standing up and walking over to him. He sat on the single armchair beside the sofa.

“She left to see our old apartment. Yesterday, she gave me the signed divorce papers,” Spade admitted, even though he knew his father was already aware of the situation.

“I won’t ask if you’re certain about this, but how do you feel about it?” his father asked—and the question made Spade’s brow furrow.

“I don’t know. What should I feel, Dad? I can’t remember anything about her. If she stays with me when I don’t even recognize her… won’t she just get hurt? I don’t feel anything for he—”

“—Don’t say that, son,” his father cut him off. “As I’ve told you before, don’t let your amnesia speak for the feelings you’ve forgotten.” He pulled out his phone and showed Spade a video.

“What’s this?”

“It’s footage from your wedding to her—before your surgery. Your mother filmed it; I think she forgot about it with everything that’s happened. I only found it yesterday. Watch it.”

Without hesitation, Spade took the phone and pressed play. The video focused on him and Isabella—he was still wearing a hospital gown. His eyes were glued to the screen as he watched himself gaze at Isabella with unmistakable love. The clip progressed to the ring exchange and their vows.

“Isabella, I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and commitment. With this ring, I promise to stay by your side forever. After this operation, let’s marry again—properly.”

“Spade, I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and commitment. With this ring, I promise that no matter what happens, I will stay with you always. And yes—I will marry you again. And again.”

Spade’s eyes dropped to the ring on his finger. He’d never taken it off—not even when he held the divorce papers she’d given him. And though he’d told Isabella he’d signed them, he hadn’t touched a single line.

“I understand you, son,” his father said gently. “You lost your memories of her, so you’ve acted distant—all you can recall is that you never planned to fall in love. But she changed you. I saw it, your mother saw it too. You’ve lost your memories… but are you okay with losing her?”

Spade set the phone down and pressed his hand to his head. A sharp pain shot through him, and fragmented images began to flood his mind.

“Spade?” His father reached out to steady him, but Spade gripped his arm instead.

“S-Some memories… they’re flashing, but they’re all blurry,” he groaned. His father helped him lean back against the sofa and stood up to get him water.

“Just rest—we’re not talking about this to pressure you into remembering—”

“—I’m not forcing it, Dad. They’re coming on their own… my head just hurts a little, but I’m fine,” Spade interrupted. “This morning, someone from the Moldovan family came to the penthouse to see Isabella. She brought proof that Isabella is a Moldovan—and that Tudor Moldovan wants to take her back. She also said he’s planning to target us again. That old man still wants to destroy our lives.”

“Tudor’s heart is still filled with rage. He can’t accept that his downfall was his own fault—his greed and selfishness brought it all on. We have to be careful, but our top priority is Isabella’s safety,” his father said.

With a heavy sigh, Spade stood up.

“I’m heading out, Dad. Thank you for showing me the video.” He turned and hurried out of the office.

MEANWHILE

Isabella and Tristan had just left the old apartment she’d shared with her daughter Alina. She was grateful no one had rented it yet—she and Alina could move back in. Tristan had offered his condo, but she’d politely declined.

She didn’t want to rely on anyone, or to be a burden to him.

“Are you sure you won’t change your mind? You and Alina would be safer and more secure at the condo,” Tristan said.

Isabella smiled warmly at him. “Alina and I will be fine in our old place. Our neighbors are kind, and they’re happy we’re coming back. Besides—you don’t have to take care of us like we’re your responsibility.”

“But I want to help, Isabella. I care about you—more than just as a friend. I won’t push you, though. I’ll wait until you’re ready to love again,” he confessed. Isabella reached out and covered his hands with her own.

“Thank you for how you feel about me, Tristan—I really do appreciate it. But I don’t want you to wait for me, or to waste time when you could find someone who’ll love you fully. Besides… I think Spade is the only one I’ll ever love.” She sighed, and Tristan gave her a bittersweet smile.

“Put my feelings aside for now—just accept my offer as your friend.”

“I’ll think about it,” she said as they climbed into his car.

Just then, two black vans pulled up nearby, drawing the attention of a group of loiterers. Men in suits emerged from the vehicles, and Isabella’s heart leaped with fear when she saw Leticia step out of one van, grinning widely as she walked toward them. The memory of Tudor’s attempt to take her away was still fresh in her mind.

“I’ve searched the whole city for you—and here you are. Long time no see, Isabella… or should I call you Lady Soreah, now that we know you’re Don Tudor Moldovan’s granddaughter?” Leticia said, her eyes shifting to Tristan.

“And who’s this man with you? Are you being unfaithful? Does Spade know about him?”

“W-What do you want?” Isabella asked, trying to hide her panic—but Tristan noticed her trembling hands.

“Let’s talk,” Leticia said, her smile never fading. “It’ll be better for you… and for Spade.”