Chapter 479
No.1
As long as she lived, he would never reclaim his title as the top player in Eternal Champions. He would remain a permanent laughingstock!
His butler approached cautiously, offering consolation. “Sir, please remain calm. Have you forgotten our earlier contingency? Her taking Benjamin away actually works in our favor. If he had died here, the complications would have been significant…”
Takashi’s eyes gleamed with sudden realization. Right, he had almost forgotten.
It was better that Isabella took him. Benjamin would still be utterly ruined regardless!
Meanwhile…
The car raced toward the private airfield where their jet awaited.
They boarded swiftly, and the cabin door sealed shut as the plane prepared for immediate departure.
Only when everyone was securely seated did a collective sigh of relief echo through the cabin.
“Boss Montgomery, you’ve shattered records again!” Maxwell Carter exclaimed admiringly. “The entire rescue took under three hours! And you successfully retrieved Benjamin!”
Isabella frowned. Three hours?
No.2
She quickly checked her phone. It was nearly six in the morning!
Oliver Blackwood typically woke between seven and eight. If he didn’t find her there, he would panic…
“Instruct the pilot to accelerate,” she ordered Maxwell urgently. “I’m on a tight schedule.”
“Understood.” Maxwell hurried toward the cockpit to relay the message.
Benjamin sat beside her, studying her intently, his emotions swirling chaotically within his gaze.
Who exactly was Isabella Montgomery? She commanded a private jet and a team of fiercely loyal operatives.
Most astonishingly, her combat skills were impeccably refined! She extracted him from a heavily guarded compound completely unharmed!
Remembering all the pain he had inflicted upon her since childhood, overwhelming guilt consumed him.
He opened his mouth to speak, but a sudden, searing pain erupted from his abdomen.
Agh! The agony was blinding!
No.3
Benjamin Kensington writhed in agony, curling into a tight ball on the leather seat. His hands clamped over his abdomen as a guttural moan tore from his throat. “Argh!”
Isabella Montgomery’s brow furrowed instantly. “What’s happening?”
“It…hurts…so much!” he gasped before his body went limp. He collapsed onto the aircraft’s cold floor.
Thud.
He was out cold. Isabella dropped to her knees, her fingers urgently tapping his pale cheeks. No response. Within seconds, his complexion turned a ghastly, ashen grey. A cold dread shot through her. She pressed two fingers beneath his nose, seeking any sign of breath. Her hand recoiled sharply.
He wasn’t breathing.
Panic surged, but she forced it down. “The emergency kit! Now!” she barked, her voice cutting through the cabin’s hum.
Maxwell Carter was already moving. He retrieved the advanced medical kit, stocked with experimental drugs and cutting-edge resuscitation equipment.
Isabella’s fingers flew through the contents. She seized a single, unmarked white pill. Reborn. A prototype developed by her mentor, Silas Granger, and his top research team. It was designed for catastrophic organ failure, a last-chance gamble that had to be administered within thirty seconds of clinical death.
She pried his jaw open and placed the pill on his tongue. It would dissolve instantly.
No.4
Next, she grabbed the portable CPR device, pressing the electrode pad firmly to his chest. The machine whirred to life, delivering rhythmic, precise compressions.
“Divert to the nearest hospital in Westhaven!” Maxwell ordered the pilot.
“No!” Isabella’s command was absolute. “Continue to Westchester! Full speed!”
Westhaven was Takashi Yamamoto’s domain. Any hospital there would be compromised. Benjamin would be a sitting duck.
Maxwell nodded grimly, understanding the unspoken danger. He clipped small electronic nodes to Benjamin’s palms and the soles of his feet. They emitted a low-frequency current, designed to prevent neuromuscular lock-up and stimulate neural activity.
Sweat beaded on both their foreheads. The only sound was the mechanical thump of the CPR device and the low hum of the nodes.
Isabella’s mind raced. He couldn’t die. Not like this. Victoria Kensington had manipulated him his entire life. He had only just begun to see the truth. He deserved a chance to live it.
And Theodore Montgomery… How could she ever tell that gentle old man he had lost his grandson?
Her will became a tangible force. She poured every ounce of her focus into the fight for his life.
Nearly an hour later, a miracle. Benjamin’s index finger twitched.
No.5
“He’s back!” Maxwell exclaimed, relief washing over his face. “Vitals are stabilizing!”
Isabella’s breath hitched. She checked for a pulse. Faint, but there. Steadying.
She immediately shut down all the devices, removing the pads and clips. She leaned close to his ear, her voice low and fierce.
“Fight, Benjamin. Do you hear me? Your grandfather is waiting. Everyone is waiting. Victoria needs to be exposed. You can’t leave this unfinished. You will not drag me down with your failure. Stay. Alive.”
He remained unconscious, unresponsive, trapped in a fragile state between life and death.
It was a critical situation.
The jet finally touched down at the Westchester private terminal. Maxwell’s team was already waiting on the tarmac with a stretcher. They carefully transferred Benjamin’s still form.
Isabella never left his side. She slid into the back of the waiting SUV beside the stretcher.
“Grace Memorial Hospital. Now,” she instructed the driver. It was the largest, most secure private hospital in the city, located mercifully close to the airport. Their exorbitant fees guaranteed immediate, discreet, and top-tier medical attention. It was his best chance.
The helicopter blades sliced through the air as Dominic Sterling and his team returned. Through the window, Dominic spotted Isabella Montgomery and her security detail rushing away in vehicles. He immediately pulled out his phone to contact Nathaniel Blackwood.
No.6
The call jolted Nathaniel awake. “Sir, Benjamin appears to have lost consciousness. They are currently en route to the hospital with great urgency.” Nathaniel’s voice was sharp with command. “Contact Grace Memorial Hospital. Instruct them to prepare a full medical team and a trauma bay immediately. Now.”
Across the city, at Montgomery Manor, Victoria Kensington’s phone lit up with a message from Takashi Yamamoto. (Beautiful, I’ve expended significant effort on your behalf. You owe me a visit. Make it soon. A compensation is in order. Yes, Isabella retrieved Benjamin, but he has been poisoned. He is essentially a corpse at this point.)
Victoria’s heart hammered against her ribs. A cold dread washed over her. He had been saved? She had anticipated this possibility, but not so quickly. The timeline was accelerated. If Takashi confirmed the poison, then Benjamin should already be dead. Deceased. Gone.
A wave of nausea hit her. She had never been responsible for a death before. Her hands trembled. It took several minutes of controlled breathing to steady her nerves. She then placed a call to a contact she knew only as ‘Rex’. “I require visual confirmation. Photographs of Benjamin Kensington in critical condition. Send them to me.”
Minutes later, her phone chimed with several images. They showed a gurney being rushed into an emergency room. Victoria’s brow furrowed in confusion and rising panic. Why was he still alive? The poison should have been fatal. Why was he in the ER? A new text from Rex appeared. (Rex: My sources indicate Isabella performed emergency resuscitation on site. She stabilized him enough for transport. He remains unconscious. His survival is not guaranteed.)
Unconscious. Not dead. That meant he could potentially wake up. If he regained consciousness, everything would unravel. Her entire scheme would collapse. A desperate, calculated idea flashed in her mind. She sprang from her bed and ran into the hallway.
She rushed toward Theodore Montgomery’s private wing. Her frantic knocking echoed in the quiet corridor. “Grandfather! Wake up! It’s a catastrophe!” she cried, her voice cracking with manufactured hysteria.
The door was opened by the head butler, Reginald Thornton. “Ms. Kensington? What is the meaning of this disturbance?”
“I must see my grandfather! Immediately!” she sobbed, pushing past him. “Grandfather! Please!”
The commotion drew Theodore from his bedroom. He emerged, concern etched on his aged face. Seeing him, Victoria threw herself forward. Her knees hit the polished floor with a sharp thud. She clutched at the fabric of his pajamas, her body wracked with theatrical sobs.
No.7
“Grandfather, it’s horrible! Isabella… she… she has harmed Benjamin! She did it to frame me! To turn everyone against me! She… she has killed him! Oh, God!” she wailed, her performance flawless.
Theodore recoiled as if struck. “What? What are you saying? What has happened to Benjamin?!”
“My… my friend just called me!” she choked out between sobs. “Benjamin has been taken to the emergency room at Grace Memorial! He’s unconscious! The doctors say he might not… he might never wake up!” Her cries were raw and desperate.
The color drained from Theodore’s face. He staggered backward, his legs buckling. Reginald lunged forward, catching the old man before he could fall. Theodore’s lips trembled. His grandson. His only grandson. Harmed.