Blizzard, First Love and a Wife Who Finally Snaps novel Chapter 193

Isabel placed a bowl of porridge on the counter to cool, along with the side dishes she had prepared.

"Have a seat, I'm not done yet."

Julian went into the kitchen to help.

A moment later, Miles came downstairs. "Oh, is sister cooking today? I'm in for a treat."

His eyes landed on a plate of shrimp salad, and he reached for one. Julian slapped his hand away. "Go wash your hands."

"They're clean. I just washed them before coming down."

Julian insisted, and Miles, knowing he couldn't win a fight, relented. He went to the sink and made a show of washing them again so they could both see.

"See, sister? I washed my hands. You're my witness."

Isabel sighed in amusement.

He certainly didn't act like an older brother.

These men, they never grew up.

When Mr. and Mrs. Ashford came down, they were greeted by the sounds of chatter and playful banter.

For over twenty years, the estate had been shrouded in silence, as if a heavy cloud perpetually hung overhead.

If not for their family responsibilities, the couple felt they wouldn't have had the strength to go on.

But they had waited, and now she was here.

Even without a DNA test, they felt an undeniable, close bond with Isabel.

Until they found their real daughter, they would love and cherish her as their own.

"Dad, Mom, you're awake! Come and eat. I made different dishes, so take your pick. But you have to have this porridge, especially you, Dad. It will soothe your stomach after all that wine last night."

"Wonderful," Mr. Ashford said, walking over briskly. He immediately picked up a spoon and took a mouthful, only to yelp as the hot porridge burned his tongue.

Miles laughed without mercy. "Uncle, you're so clumsy."

A wave of cheerful laughter filled the room.

Just then, Stephen, the butler, came to announce that a gentleman with the surname Blackwell had come to call.

They didn't know anyone named Blackwell.

But the name was infamous.

Especially after they learned that an Adrian Blackwell had been Isabel's ex-husband.

A complete and utter scoundrel.

Mr. Ashford's face hardened. "Send him away. We're not seeing visitors."

But the man paid no heed, bursting into the room uninvited.

His entire arm went numb, and he could no longer hold onto her.

Isabel massaged her left wrist where he had grabbed her. A red mark was already forming.

"Who are you?"

She asked him in French, the local language.

Her accent was perfect, authentic.

She knew Adrian understood.

He would understand her words but find no flaw in her delivery.

Adrian's hand was still useless. His dark eyes stared at her intently.

"How long are you going to keep up this act?"

Isabel's expression was indifferent. She called for Stephen to have the bodyguards escort him out.

"Sir, trespassing on private property without the owner's permission and acting inappropriately toward the daughter of the house can get you shot."

Adrian tried to grab her with his other good hand.

Julian moved to stand in front of her, shielding her. "Mr. Blackwell, what's with the manhandling of my wife? This isn't Westbridge. You'd do well to tone down the arrogance."

Adrian's gaze was unwavering. "Your wife? Weren't you supposed to marry Isabel?"