“I’m outside,” he replied.
Moments later, the deep roar of a V12 engine echoed beyond the gates. Not one vehicle — several. The butler rushed in, pale.
“Sir… private security is here. And a gentleman insisting on entry.”
Before Harold could respond, the double doors swung open.
Victor Reynolds entered in a tailored Italian suit, removing his sunglasses slowly. Two attorneys followed, along with security.
“Good evening,” he said calmly. “I’m here for my daughter. And to settle matters.”
Harold puffed up. “I’ll call the police!”
“Please do,” Victor replied. “The commissioner and I had dinner last week.”
Isabella felt steady for the first time in years.
“They say I leave with nothing,” she murmured.
Victor smiled faintly. “I did start as a mechanic. But that was thirty years ago. Harold, are you familiar with Reynolds Global Holdings?”
Harold went pale. “The investment firm?”
“I founded it.”
He placed a black-and-gold business card beside the divorce papers. “I kept my profile low so my daughter would grow up with values — not parasites.”
He turned to Daniel. “I wanted to see whether you loved her. You failed.”
“I didn’t know—” Daniel stammered.
“You knew enough,” Isabella said quietly.