Arthur Blackwood paid no attention to Ethan.
He simply led the way forward.
Ethan’s expression darkened.
He clearly wanted to say something, but held back.
Isabella Scott was also confused.
The memorial hall was a sacred place for the Blackwood ancestors.
Given that she and Ethan were about to divorce, her presence here felt inappropriate.
Even improper.
Arthur held her hand firmly.
His palm was warm.
It gave Isabella a strange sense of comfort.
Several times, she almost told him about the impending divorce.
But each time she looked at his frail figure, the words died in her throat.
The memorial hall stood directly behind Blackwood Estate.
It was an ancient and dignified building.
It radiated the weight of generations.
As they approached, a faint scent of sandalwood filled the air.
The solemn fragrance set a respectful tone.
Soft lighting illuminated numerous portraits inside.
It added to the hall’s reverent atmosphere.
Quietly, Arthur gestured toward a specific photograph.
“Isabella,” he murmured. “Come closer. Look at this.”
She obeyed, stepping forward.
Her eyes adjusted to the dim light.
She could make out the name inscribed on the frame.
Frederick Vance.
Isabella gasped.
Her eyes widened in disbelief.
She turned to Arthur, completely stunned.
How could her grandfather’s portrait be here? In the Blackwood family memorial hall?
Arthur released a weary sigh.
“Frederick was my closest friend in college,” he explained.
He paused, his gaze distant.
“We met again unexpectedly after graduation. By then, he was a highly respected financial expert. Blackwood Enterprises was in serious trouble at the time. Frederick helped resolve the crisis. He eventually joined our board of directors.”
Arthur’s eyes revealed complex emotions.
“We parted ways after a disagreement. He resigned from the board.”
Isabella listened in silence.
Her emotions were in turmoil.
Her grandmother, Eleanor, had never told her any of this.
“Life can be cruel,” Arthur said, his voice heavy with grief.
He shook his head slowly.
“Frederick passed away not long after our parting. He was a true friend. His death left a wound in my heart that time cannot heal.”
Arthur took a deep breath.
He continued, “Later, his daughter—your mother—married into the Scott family. They later faced bankruptcy. Then, his only remaining descendant—his granddaughter—married into our Blackwood family five years ago.”
“The intricacies of these events are known only to a few within the company. Myself included. Ethan is also unaware of this.”
Isabella finally understood.
This was why Arthur had insisted on her marriage to Ethan five years ago.
It all made sense now.
Arthur turned to her.
His expression was a blend of compassion and resolve.
“Isabella,” he said. “Do you remember I wanted to transfer some shares to you three years ago?”