Chapter 143
Isabella’s expression remained unreadable as she arched a brow. “So, Marcus, what exactly is your proof?” From the moment he opened his mouth, she had seen through his pathetic attempt to frame her.
She studied the eager faces of those who jumped at the chance to accuse her, mentally cataloging their motives. She already knew their backgrounds, their alliances, their petty grudges.
“I—I don’t have concrete evidence,” Marcus stammered, his bravado crumbling under her steady gaze. “But Ms. Sinclair, you’re the most suspicious one here. If you don’t explain yourself, you’ll never clear your name.”
He had expected her to panic, maybe even lash out. Instead, Isabella regarded him with icy detachment, as if he were nothing more than an insignificant pest. His chest tightened. Her unshaken composure only fueled his humiliation.
Most people would scramble to defend themselves when accused of theft. But not Isabella. She remained perfectly still, refusing to dignify his baseless accusations with urgency. Her cold, unwavering stare sent a ripple of discomfort through the room, silencing the murmurs.
“And why should I explain myself?” she countered smoothly. “Innocent until proven guilty—or did they skip that lesson at your prestigious university?”
Marcus clenched his fists. If this sharp-tongued woman hadn’t been parachuted into the company, everything would still be under his control. Catching his subtle signal, his lackeys stirred again.
“That’s not how things work here, Ms. Sinclair,” one sneered. “Those stolen perfumes are worth a fortune, and you’re the prime suspect. The least you could do is give us an explanation.”
Another chimed in, “Exactly. If you can’t defend yourself, people will assume you’re guilty. The logs don’t lie. The cameras might’ve malfunctioned, but the entry records show you were the last one here before the perfumes went missing.”
“Right! Those perfumes are exclusive—restricted access. Unless someone stole them…” Their insinuations hung thick in the air, dripping with malice.
The tension escalated as they hurled accusation after accusation. But not everyone was willing to stay silent.
“Marcus, have you lost your damn mind?” someone snapped. “Ms. Sinclair saved us from Rodrigo Carman just last week. Or did you conveniently forget that?”
“And what’s this nonsense about her being an orphan? She owns shares in this company—she doesn’t need to steal,” another added.
“You’re making accusations without proof. This is ridiculous!” More voices rose in Isabella’s defense, tired of Marcus’s constant scheming. They knew her—knew she was fair, even kind, unless provoked. The idea of her stealing was laughable.
Marcus, sensing the tide turning, gritted his teeth. Desperate, he lashed out again, this time in front of Alexander.
“You never really know someone’s true nature, do you?” he sneered. “I’ve heard stories—like how she tried to seduce another woman’s fiancé. A lonely divorcée like her—maybe she just—”
Before he could finish, a voice colder than steel cut through the room.
“Marcus.” Alexander’s tone was lethal. “If you enjoy gossip so much, I can arrange for you to never speak again.”
Marcus froze, his throat going dry. “Mr. Kingsley, I didn’t mean—”
“Then shut your mouth.”
If Isabella hadn’t held Alexander back earlier, Marcus would already be out on the street. Now, Alexander understood why she hadn’t retaliated immediately—she had been setting a trap far more intricate than Marcus’s clumsy scheme.
His gaze swept over the room, his anger simmering. “You were hired to work, not to spread rumors and sabotage your colleagues. If you can’t act professionally, I won’t hesitate to remove every single one of you.”
His eyes locked onto Marcus. “Starting with you. Pack your things.”
A stunned silence followed. Marcus stood there, gaping, never imagining that Alexander would defend Isabella so fiercely—let alone fire him as an example.
