Reborn Heiress: Taking Back What Is Rightfully Hers!
Chapter 502: Who Is He?

Chapter 502: Who Is He?

At half past midnight, Ella finally arrived at the pier.

The dock was crowded with various types of boats, but at this late hour, only a few people lingered, smoking and drinking near the bow of their ships.

As soon as Ella appeared, a man dressed in black stepped off a speedboat parked not far away. He looked like a local from S City and greeted Ella in the city’s distinctive accent.

"Hello, are you Miss Ella?"

Ella froze for a moment before nodding quickly. "Yes, I am. Are you... the one sent to pick me up?"

"A distinguished guest has instructed me to escort you to Ice Ocean Island. Miss Davis, please board the boat," the man said politely.

Ella took a deep breath.

The sea breeze was bitterly cold. She tightened her coat around her and stepped lightly onto the speedboat.

Since the person had gone through such trouble, they likely wouldn’t make a move on her aboard the boat. Their purpose wasn’t to kill her—it was something else.

After Ella boarded, the man started the speedboat, accelerating at a startling pace. The cold made her shiver uncontrollably, though thankfully, she had brought an extra coat.

Otherwise, she feared she’d fall ill before even reaching her destination.

The biting sea breeze was relentless, the temperature on the water having dropped significantly. The speedboat’s rapid pace whipped Ella’s hair straight back.

She sat trembling in her seat, each passing moment feeling unbearably long.

Time dragged on.

Ella felt like her back was going to break from sitting so long.

And still, the destination was nowhere in sight.

Ice Ocean Island was a small private island located far from S City. Word had it that the island was purchased by a wealthy individual from Country Y.

The icy moonlight reflected off the water’s surface, and the speedboat’s swift passage left waves rippling behind it.

When Ella was curled up tightly from the cold, the boat finally began to slow.

Ella lifted her head and saw the island looming close.

"Miss Davis, after you disembark, please wait there. That’s the guest’s instruction," the man said politely.

Ella wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries. She simply nodded, stepped off the speedboat, and walked several paces onto the dock before stopping.

The man quickly drove the boat away.

The chill was so intense that Ella’s palms itched, and goosebumps rose all over her skin.

The dock on the island was eerily quiet, devoid of any signs of life.

But Ella wasn’t afraid. She stood still, her gaze steady and resolute. Having taken the first step, she was determined to face what lay ahead with confidence.

The wind howled mercilessly, its mournful sound like the wailing of spirits.

Ella glanced back at the dark, shadowy forest behind her. On any other day, such a sight would have terrified her, but in this critical moment, fear was a luxury she couldn’t afford.

Rumble, rumble, rumble—

The sound of a helicopter approached.

Ella looked up to see its speed slowing. She was momentarily startled—her adversary was clever, using the same tactic again!

By picking her up directly from this island, there would be no intermediaries, leaving no trace of where she was taken next.

Ella couldn’t help but admire the meticulous planning. It seemed that when Eric received her message in three days, tracking her would already be a monumental challenge.

Thinking quickly, Ella crouched and scratched a series of strange symbols onto a large rock nearby before discarding the stone.

The helicopter drew closer, descending steadily—it was unmistakably heading for her.

The noise it brought was deafening, nearly unbearable for Ella, and the wind whipped at her coat, threatening to blow it away. A ladder dropped from the helicopter, and a man—clearly of African descent—climbed down.

"Miss Davis, please come aboard. I’ve been entrusted to bring you safely," he said.

Shivering from the cold, Ella approached the ladder and gripped the icy rungs, climbing up step by step.

When Ella boarded the plane, the ladder was slowly retracted.

She stepped inside and saw two dark-skinned men standing silently on either side, their expressions cold and indifferent.

Ella took her seat, fastened her seatbelt, and calmly closed her eyes. She neither spoke nor revealed her confusion.

The two men in black exchanged glances, impressed by her composure.

Ella knew that what was meant to happen couldn’t be stopped, and what was meant to leave couldn’t be held back. She needed confidence and calmness to face what lay ahead.

The helicopter flew forward, its presence even alerting the island’s owner, who climbed to the rooftop only to see the shadow of the helicopter disappearing into the distance...

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed.

Someone gently shook her awake. It turned out that she had fallen asleep on the plane, exhausted. When she woke up, a faint, bitter smile crossed her lips. She hadn’t been able to sleep in the comfort of her own home, yet here, in such a dangerous situation, she had miraculously managed to fall asleep.

How strange I am, she thought.

To feel at ease enough to sleep in such a place—maybe it was because she was about to see her son?

"Miss Davis, you can get off now," a dark-skinned man said politely in the language of Country W.

Ella silently stood, stepping off the plane with purposeful strides.

In front of her lay a small island.

The coastline was lined with perfectly arranged palm trees. The neatness suggested that the island’s owner had a touch of obsessive-compulsive tendencies.

Ella stepped onto the ground, her heart pounding wildly. Could she be about to see her son?

The two men in black led her inland.

They passed massive stone carvings with inscriptions, peculiar statues, and beautifully arranged flowerbeds.

Everything seemed... normal.

The sun had already risen, but the temperature was still low—colder than it had been when she left the harbor. The chill bit at her throat, making it sore.

Ella calculated the time. If this truly was a European island, she had departed at 1 a.m., and it should be around 9 p.m. local time.

With the sunrise now illuminating the sky, it meant she had likely been on the plane for about ten hours.

If it wasn’t a European island, then perhaps the flight had lasted only six hours.

Ella furrowed her brows. No point overthinking it. The important thing was to focus on her mission and prepare for whatever confrontation lay ahead.

In her heart, she had already determined that the island’s owner must be Mason.

That obsessive, twisted man—it could only be him behind all this.

Following a pentagram-shaped stone path, they reached the island’s first villa.

Though it wasn’t far from the shore, Ella felt her feet go numb and her hands grow icy cold.

It was likely the cold. Her lips felt like they were turning blue.

The villa was Western-style, with a garden in front but no gate—just a transparent glass entrance.

The two men in black pushed the door open. Ella looked up and saw a man in a white sweater sitting leisurely inside, holding a glass of milk. Beside him sat a stunningly beautiful woman.

Ella’s brows furrowed deeply. It’s not Mason?

Yet she couldn’t place this man. Searching her memory, she couldn’t recall anyone she or Eric might have offended. No matter how hard she tried, his face triggered no recognition.