Chapter 68 Replicated blood
“How do you mean?” Isabella raised a brow in confusion, as she scanned through the paper.
Lucien swore silently under his breath.
Victoria sighed. “He doesn't need to take your blood presently.”
“I understand that,” Isabella said pointedly, her lips thinning with every word that came out of her mouth. “What I'm trying to say is, is that possible? Humanly possible?”
Lucien sighed. “We can't put it past him.” He had a look of defeat on his face. Isabella had never seen him look that defeated.
“But we can take it to the Council yeah?” Even as she spoke, she knew it was pointless. It was more of a speculation.
And knowing the council, she'd gotten the evidence illegally. Although it was evidence, it couldn't be admitted.
“So there's nothing then?” She asked no one in particular as she slid down the floor slowly, despair showing on her face.
The room was silent.
“He's going to win, isn't he?”
“We don't know that.” Victoria corrected, stooping to console Isabella.
“Oh, c'mon Victoria. We all know that Damien has only one plan. Be the king of the region.” She said bitterly.
Victoria sighed, her heart lurching for the girl she'd come to love. The one she realised had her back all this time even though the realisation was coming a tad bit too late.
“We can still present it.” She said tiredly. “I know you think we don't have some semblance of hope, but we do.” She stood up, stretching out her hand for Isabella.
Isabella glanced at the hand, before looking away.
Victoria sighed, undeterred, her arms still outstretched. She smiled as Isabella took it as she helped her up.
“We can still tender the evidence that way.”
“We can't.” Isabella countered. “It won't be used.”
“No, it won't.” Victoria agreed, making Isabella frown.
“If you know it won't be used, then why…”
“Because it would cast aspersions on Damien.” Lucien interrupted, an interesting expression resting on his face.”
Victoria smiled in triumph. “He gets it.”
Her comment earned a small hiss from Isabella.
“And the point?” She pressed, still not getting where they were headed.
“The point is, the court will be divided. We'll call for war.” Surprisingly, Victoria's voice held no contempt, nor was it impatient.
Isabella sighed. “I.. I'm sorry I'm dragging us back. I just can't seem to concentrate. It's all too much.”
Victoria mirrored her sigh, nodding a bit. “You should rest if it's too much. The day is almost over. We can get back to this tomorrow.”
“No!” Isabella protested firmly and a little too loudly. “We can't. I promised the council two days.”
“And?” Victoria shrugged, a confused expression still on her face. “You still have the time. I barely spent 36 hours.”
“I know. But we have to do it now. Who knows what tricks Damien still has up his sleeves?”
Victoria shut her eyes, opening them almost immediately. “You're right. Yet,” she countered almost immediately. “We don't have enough.”
“So?” Isabella trailed, glancing furtively at Lucien. “What do you think?”
“You should go,” Lucien said, his voice calm and collected.
Victoria opened her mouth to speak, but Isabella patted her hand, shushing her before she could interrupt Lucien.
“I have a plan.” Lucien continued, chewing his lips, his brain working overtime.
“And you're right,” he said turning to Victoria. “Damien is going to win, whether we like it or not. What we are going to do, like you said before is turn the council against each other. It buys us time. Use this.”
He handed a piece of paper to Isabella. “Only this. This should serve. Just a few questions,” he walked to the table and scribbled some questions on a sheet of paper.
“Time for what?”
Victoria said, just as Isabella spun to the mirror, packing her hair in a bun, her eyes went through the words Damien had scribbled down.
“Time to retaliate.” She answered in his stead, tearing the paper and emptying its contents in the trash behind her.
“See you later,” she walked over to Lucien and handed him a soft kiss on his cheek. “Wish me luck.”
Lucien smiled, drawing her in for a kiss. “This is better luck.”
Victoria cleared her throat shyly, looking sideways. “Someone's in the room with you. Just thought to let you know. You know, just in case you might have forgotten.”
Isabella rolled her eyes as she blushed, drawing away from Lucien. “See you later.”
She turned to Victoria. “Be good.”
And without waiting for a response from either of them, she stepped out of the room.
Victoria nodded at her departing shadow. She was making progress. This was better than the curt nod she'd been used to.”
“I hope I'm not interrupting something important,” Isabella said, walking into the hall.
The men, both young and old, turned their backs at her, frowning at the unwelcome interruption.
“We didn't summon you, Ms Thorne.” Lord Sloane spoke, a displeased expression settling on his face. He'd clearly been in a heated argument minutes before she walked in.
“I know. I did.” She gave a small smile as she continued walking till she was at the podium.
Whispers rose.
“I'm pretty sure you're aware that you don't summon yourself.” Sloane sneered, his patience waning.
Isabella shrugged. “I’m here now, aren't I?”
“How can we help you, Ms Thorne?” Damien spoke instead from his designated seat just a few feet away from her.
Isabella threw a grimace at him, before returning her attention back to the other members of the council.
“I promised this court to return with whatever evidence I could lay my hands on.”
The once quiet court became noisy again.
“Ms Thorne?” Lord Sloane called quietly but dangerously. “We have many serious matters pending. Please do not waste any more of our time.”
Isabella sneered. “More precious than the cause of deaths in the county?”
“Isabella?” Damien called.
“It should be Ms Thorne to you.” Isabella fired immediately, her anger rising.
He nodded apologetically. “Ms Thorne?”
Isabella sighed, bringing out a crumpled piece of paper.
Lord Sloane squinted, looking around. “Is that the evidence you say you have, Ms Thorne?” The anger he'd been suppressing in his voice rose.
Isabella gave a chilly smile. “Do not underestimate what you see, Lord Sloane.”
“Let's hear it.” Damien urged.
Isabella hissed slightly at the man on hsd right hand corner. He definitely knew that the evidence she was holding was against him, yet he was not shaken.
He was trying to unnerve her, scare her into dropping it even before she had the chance to lay her claims.
She bit her lips as Elias's face came into her head. “I believe we've all heard of Browning Reed…”
“That's a corporation belonging to my family, Ms Thorne. What's your point?” Damien interrupted.
Isabella looked away calmly. “Perhaps, if Lord Hale is not so much in a haste to interrupt me, he would know.”
There were scattered laughs across the hall.
Damien nodded, raising his hands in defence. “Carry on.”
Isabella gave a small smile of triumph. She walked over to where Lord Sloane stood and handed him the piece of paper. “If you would be so kind as to read this, Lord Sloane.”
She gave him a harmless smile, realising that he would not take the piece from her. “Or do you mind if I hand it over to Lord Gabriel?”
Lord Hale snatched the paper from her, squinting as his eyes ran through it.
“What the hell is this?” He muttered.
Isabella shrugged. “Perhaps we should hand it over to Lord Gabriel.” She said and before Lord Sloane could react, she snatched the paper out of his hands, handing it over to the man next to him.
She could feel the anger of the man next to her rising.
“What do you think, Lord Gabriel?” She asked curiously.
“This is preposterous.” The man swore under his breath.
“Exactly what I think.” She grunted as she walked over to where Damien sat. “It's time we showed Lord Hale what we've seen.”
Damien literally grabbed the paper out of her hands. His eyes scanned the paper before him, before he let out a slight laugh.
“This is unbelievable.” Damien chuckled. He stood up, crumpling the paper in his hands. “And preposterous.”
Isabella shrugged. “C'mon, Lord Hale. Why do you think so?”
Damien shook his head. “Why do you think Browning Reed is responsible for this in the first place?”
Isabella chuckled, her arms folded. “I think you're asking the wrong questions, Lord Hale.”
Damien scoffed. “Oh don't be arrogant, Isabella…”
“Ms Thorne.” Isabella corrected immediately. “I don't think we are acquainted that much to go by our first names.”
Damien chuckled. “You're right. We are not acquaintances. Do you mind pointing me to the right questions, Ms Thorne?”
“At my very own pleasure.” Her smile was cunning. “Why is my blood being replicated in a company owned by your family?”
The hall turned quiet as the men gaped.