Chapter 290
The screen flickered violently before going completely black. Isabella Sinclair’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, frozen mid-air. The error message glared back at her like an accusation:
Browsing context has been discarded
A chill ran down her spine. This wasn’t just a technical glitch. Someone was actively erasing digital footprints.
Across the penthouse, Ethan Blackwood’s phone buzzed with an incoming call. His steel-gray eyes darkened as he read the caller ID. “It’s Prescott,” he muttered, thumb hovering over the decline button.
“Answer it,” Isabella commanded, already moving toward him. Her silk robe whispered against her legs as she crossed the marble floor. “We need to know what game he’s playing now.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened, but he swiped to accept. Nathan Prescott’s smug voice filled the room. “Having trouble with your systems, Blackwood? Pity. I was just about to send you some… enlightening information.”
Isabella snatched the phone. “What did you do?”
Prescott’s laugh was a blade wrapped in velvet. “Oh Isabella, always so dramatic. I merely closed a window you shouldn’t have been peeking through.”
The line went dead.
Ethan’s hands clenched into fists. “That bastard’s toying with us.”
Isabella’s mind raced. The encrypted files she’d been accessing—financial records linking Prescott to the Kingsley family’s missing millions—were gone. Vanished like smoke.
A new notification popped up on her tablet. A single image loaded pixel by pixel: a surveillance photo of Victoria Chamberlain leaving a downtown bank, her usually impeccable bun coming undone, her eyes wild with panic.
The timestamp read Today. 2:47 AM.
Isabella’s breath caught. “She’s running.”
Ethan was already shrugging into his tailored jacket. “Then we find her before Prescott does.”
Somewhere in the city, a window shattered. The sound echoed through empty streets like a gunshot.
The game had changed.
