Chapter 160
Sophia Kensington’s eyes burned with fury as she glared at Isabella Sinclair, her entire body trembling with suppressed rage. Yet beneath the anger, fear coiled tightly in her chest. She knew better than to provoke someone as unpredictable as Isabella—especially when there was a real possibility this woman might actually follow through on her threats.
Isabella, completely unfazed by Sophia’s venomous stare, merely smirked. Her dark eyes glittered with cruel amusement.
“Have you really thought this through, Sophia?” she asked, tilting her head in mock concern. “The Blackwood Group has thousands of employees relying on it. If the stock plummets, the company’s profits will be gutted. Could you really live with yourself, knowing those people might lose their jobs just because the Blackwood name is dragged through the mud?”
Her smirk deepened, relishing the way Sophia’s face paled.
“It’s a simple request, really. Refusing would just make you heartless, wouldn’t it?”
Sophia had spent her entire life playing the delicate victim, using her fragility to manipulate others. But now, with her own tactics turned against her, she wished she could wipe that smug look off Isabella’s face. Desperate, she turned to Ethan Blackwood for support—only to find his jaw clenched, fury etched into every sharp line of his expression.
Biting her lip, Sophia played her trump card.
“Ethan,” she whispered, her voice trembling with practiced fragility. “If giving up my leg is what it takes to clear the Blackwood name—if that’s what Isabella wants—then I’m willing to do it.”
She gazed up at him with pitiful eyes, as if ready to sacrifice herself for the sake of their family’s honor. With a dramatic sigh, she began to kneel, eyes fluttering shut.
As expected, Ethan’s expression twisted in anguish. He grabbed her arm, stopping her.
“Sophia, don’t,” he said tightly, his voice rough with emotion. “She’s playing with us. Even if we broke our legs, someone like her—someone who lies without hesitation—would never keep her word!”
Isabella let out a slow, mocking laugh.
“Oh, is that what you’re worried about, Mr. Blackwood?” she mused, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “Well, that’s an easy fix. You could just record a video for proof, couldn’t you?”
With deliberate slowness, she pulled a gleaming dagger from her jacket, the blade catching the light with a sinister glint.
“Since Sophia loves you so much,” she cooed, stepping forward with predatory grace, “I’d be more than happy to help make it happen. Why wait? Let’s start now.”
Sophia’s breath hitched. “W-what are you doing?” she stammered, shrinking behind Ethan, her eyes wide with fear.
She had been so sure Isabella was bluffing—that she wouldn’t actually go through with it. But the memory of Isabella slicing off her hair with nothing but a knife flashed before her, a chilling reminder that this woman played by no rules but her own.
Ethan’s face drained of color as he instinctively shielded Sophia, his arm raised protectively.
“Isabella, stop this. Sophia has nothing to do with your feud. You’re the one who chose to go against the Blackwoods. Whatever happens now, you’ll never use my grandfather’s name to weasel your way back in!”
Unimpressed, Isabella twirled the dagger between her fingers, her smirk unwavering.
“Oh, please. I’m not like some people who cling to the scraps of the Blackwood name.” Her gaze swept over them with detached amusement. “But I thought you two were the self-sacrificing type? How disappointing that the mere thought of losing a leg has you shaking in your boots.”
Ethan’s fists clenched at his sides, rage simmering beneath the surface. How had Isabella become so ruthless?
Before he could respond, the swarm of reporters descended like vultures.
“Mr. Blackwood! Miss Kensington! Why did you leave the signing event so abruptly?”
“Is it true you knew about Xavier Delmar’s plagiarism scandal before it broke?”
“Miss Kensington, when you vouched for Xavier, did you ever consider he might fail?”
Cameras flashed relentlessly as microphones were shoved into their faces, amplifying the chaos. Sophia felt exposed, the bright lights catching every flicker of panic in her eyes.
A few reporters recognized Isabella and immediately shifted their focus.
“Ms. Sinclair, is your appearance here today just a coincidence?”
Isabella raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “Coincidence? Maybe. But I do have something that might interest you all.”
With a wicked smile, she pulled a small recorder from her pocket and pressed play.
The unmistakable voices of Sophia and Ethan rang out, crystal clear.
“Xavier just made a mistake. He isn’t a bad person.”
“Even if he plagiarized, we can handle this quietly. How could you let it go public?”
“Isabella, this is your last chance. Get the media off our backs, call a press conference, and say this was all a misunderstanding. I’ll make sure you’re well compensated.”
Their entire conversation had been recorded.
Ethan and Sophia stared at Isabella in shock, their faces draining of color.
A satisfied smile curled on Isabella’s lips as she handed the recorder to the nearest reporter.
In the next second, chaos erupted.
Reporters scrambled over each other, hungry for the perfect headline.
“Mr. Blackwood, are you covering up Xavier’s plagiarism?”
“Miss Kensington, are you suppressing this for the company’s benefit?”
The nearest reporters clung to the recording like a lifeline—this was explosive. The evidence was undeniable, and Ethan could already see the headlines tearing his reputation apart.
His face darkened with fury. “Get out of my way!” he barked, grabbing Sophia’s arm in a desperate attempt to escape.
But there was no way out. The press swarmed around them, relentless.
Isabella, unfazed by the uproar, gave a lazy wave.
“Well, Mr. Blackwood, I’ll leave you to it. Good luck managing the media. I’ve got other places to be.”
With that, she slipped into her car and drove off, leaving them to drown in the storm they had created.
Whether or not they had known about Xavier’s plagiarism didn’t matter now.
Sophia and Ethan were no strangers to spreading lies.
Now, they were getting a bitter taste of their own medicine.
