After the Secret Wedding Rise of My Queen novel Chapter 226

Chapter 226 Richie Is Richard
The villa's interior was identical to the Nelson Residence.

Richie was the man from last night.

It was Richard!

Last night, he must have revealed his true identity to Xander; otherwise, there was no way he could have escaped unscathed from the elite bodyguards of the Bennetts.

"Apologies for the delay," Richie said as he descended the staircase.

"It's fine. I just arrived," Isabel replied.

As Isabel fixed her gaze on Richie, he was also scrutinizing her.

By all accounts, the emerald guardian angel pendant should have been in Xander's possession. Yet last night, it had hung around the neck of that woman.

Richie recalled seeing Xander kiss Isabel in the car that day.

If they were indeed a couple, it wouldn't be surprising if Xander had gifted her the pendant.

With this thought, Richie's gaze discreetly shifted to Isabel's chest.

After a brief silence, Richie poured Isabel a cup of water.

"It's fine. Let me start your treatment," Isabel said. She wasn't thirsty, having already had some water before coming.

"The treatment can wait a bit. You're my guest, and here is a cup of pre-brewed lemon tea," Richie insisted, pushing the cup closer to Isabel.

However, his hand tilted slightly, causing the hot tea to spill down Isabel's neck and onto her chest.

"Ah!" Isabel gasped softly at the heat.

"My apologies." Richie handed her a clean towel as his eyes inadvertently drew to her front.

The tea had soaked her white blouse, revealing faint contours beneath.

But there was nothing there.

Her collarbone was bare, with no trace of any necklace.

The emerald guardian angel pendant wasn't on her after all. He had been wrong—the girl from last night wasn't Isabel.

"It's fine. The water wasn't that hot, but this shirt ... " Isabel glanced down at her now-stained white blouse. The tea had left mottled marks, making it unsuitable to wear in public.

"I have clothes upstairs. If you don't mind, you can borrow mine," Richie offered as he led Isabel to his room.

"I'm not picky; anything will do," Isabel said, stepping into the room and opening the closet. Almost everything was white shirts, with a few black ones mixed in.

She eventually picked a new shirt that still had its tags attached, thinking Richie might care about cleanliness.

The shirt was sorted and she needed pants now.

Her light-colored pants had also been stained by the tea. From certain angles, it might even look like something far more embarrassing.

Isabel rummaged through Richie's wardrobe but couldn't find suitable pants to wear.

Standing before the mirror in just the oversized shirt, which fell slightly above her knees, she thought it wasn't a big deal. Some of her skirts were even shorter than this.

With that thought, she decided to leave it as it was.

"I'm done," Isabel called out, pushing the door open.

Richie froze at the sight of her.

Richie, standing at a solid six-foot-tall, was the kind of guy whose clothes would typically dwarf any average-sized girl, making them look like a kid playing dress-up in an adult's wardrobe.

But Isabel was no average girl. Her figure filled out his shirt perfectly and the buttons looked like they might pop off at any moment.

"Ahem." Richie cleared his throat, trying to redirect his thoughts.

"Sorry again about your clothes. You wouldn't have needed mine if I hadn't spilled tea on you."

His reaction was purely instinctive—a typical response from any man in his position. It didn't mean anything beyond that.