Chapter 87
No.1
Made from expensive, finely ground green tea leaves.
Each slice cost a fortune.
Victoria, the wolf in sheep’s clothing, always shared it with Isabella.
She did it to earn praise for her generosity.
If Isabella refused, she was called ungrateful.
As the adopted daughter, she had no voice.
She learned to accept it.
So everyone believed she loved matcha cake.
Victoria had stolen her voice since childhood.
“You think this cake makes up for everything?” Isabella’s voice was icy.
No.2
“It’s from Yukkuri. Their matcha cake is famous. Please, try it…” Victoria said sweetly.
Isabella laughed, a sharp, mocking sound.
“Really, Victoria? You apologize with a cake? Is that all you’re worth?”
Victoria stiffened, caught off guard.
She wanted to scream, but she held back.
She glanced subtly toward Penelope, who was hiding nearby.
“I’m sorry, sister. I just want to make things right. It’s not about the price. Please accept my apology. You must be tired. Here, have some.”
As she offered the cake, Victoria tried to flick pollen from her hand onto Isabella.
Tulip pollen.
The memory hit her like a physical blow.
No.3
Five years ago, she had woken in a room overflowing with tulips. That first spring, they had seemed beautiful. She had believed they represented life's greatest joys. Winter revealed the cruel truth, on the very day her engagement was supposed to happen.
Since that moment, tulips became her enemy. Victoria knew this.
‘She planned this deliberately. She wants to sabotage the photoshoot.’ Isabella’s mind raced, connecting the dots.
Thud! The cake crashed onto the floor. Victoria stumbled backward, feigning a clumsy dodge.
Her eyes locked with Isabella’s, gleaming with malicious triumph. “Ah!”
A sharp shriek tore from her lips as she tumbled into the pond.
“Help! Somebody help me!” Victoria flailed dramatically in the water. Instantly, every eye turned toward the commotion.
“Isabella, this is too far!” Eleanor’s voice cut through the chaos.
“Someone save Victoria! Now!” Eleanor screamed, her panic seeming genuine.
People scrambled. Phones were pulled out. Others searched for something, anything, to use as a rescue tool. Pure bedlam erupted.
No.4
Sunlight danced on the water’s surface, cruelly highlighting Victoria’s feigned vulnerability.
A lifeguard finally pulled her out. She shivered violently. Her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed. Her face was a mask of pale fragility.
She gasped, each breath a performance of suffering. “Mother, please… don’t blame Isabella. This is my fault. I understand if she can’t accept my apology. If she hates me. I don’t blame her.”
Slow, calculated tears traced paths down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Isabella. I came to apologize sincerely. If it’s not enough, do what you must. Push me in again. I just want your forgiveness.” Her voice was a masterpiece of remorse.
Isabella’s hands clenched the railing, her knuckles white. She forced herself to stay still, to not give them the reaction they wanted.
She saw the entire scheme clearly—the pollen, the fall, the drowning act.
She knew defending herself now was pointless. No one would listen.
Isabella’s silence only fueled Eleanor’s rage. “You promised me yesterday you would be kind! Look what you’ve done! I know she was wrong, but she knelt all night for you! She fainted! Her first thought was to apologize again! How can you be so cruel to your own sister!” she shouted, her words lashing out.
The fragile bond formed yesterday shattered into a million pieces.
Isabella felt the last thread of connection snap.
No.5
Eleanor’s trust was gone.
“You won’t even let me explain? You’ve already decided it was me?” Her voice trembled with raw hurt.
The memory of their recent understanding hung between them, fragile and already broken.
“Explain what, Isabella? I saw everything. What could you possibly say?” Eleanor’s words were sharp, laced with disappointment.
“You think I’d be that stupid? If I wanted revenge, I have enough evidence to ruin her forever. Pushing her into a pool? That’s beneath me.” Isabella’s laugh was cold and hollow.
Her gaze swept over Victoria, icy and furious.
She turned away without another word.
She walked back to the shaded bench, alone once more.
Whispers started among the crew.
“Isabella wouldn’t do that. It doesn’t make sense.”
No.6
“What would she gain? It’s too messy. Too public.”
“Don’t be naive. People hide their true selves well.”
“Remember how Victoria defended her before? It feels like an act now.”
Opinions were shifting. Victoria’s innocent image was cracking.
People were seeing the calculated moves behind her tears.
Yesterday’s conversation had changed everything for Eleanor.
Isabella had shown mercy. She held power but didn’t use it to destroy Victoria.
That act of restraint now made Eleanor doubt her own eyes.
Seeing Isabella walk away, alone and accused, twisted something in Eleanor’s chest.
She had chosen to believe the spectacle over the person.
No.7
Guilt began to prickle at her.
She turned to Victoria. “Let’s go. You need dry clothes.”
“You believe her, don’t you? Mommy, I can’t even swim! Why would I do this to myself?” Victoria’s voice was a desperate, pitiful whine.
“I know you wouldn’t, darling. But I don’t think she meant to push you. If she truly wanted to hurt you, she had far worse options.” Eleanor’s tone was firm, final.