Chapter 141
Isabella pulled up near Kingsley Manor, unbuckling her seatbelt with a playful smirk tugging at her lips.
“Mr. Kingsley, your Maserati’s holding up surprisingly well. I’m impressed it didn’t stall again,” she teased, stepping out in front of the villa. “Care for some coffee? I promise the electricity won’t cut out this time.”
Alexander merely chuckled. “If this car fails me one more time, Sebastian better start packing. I’ll have him shipped off to Antarctica.”
Lately, Isabella had been revealing a more carefree side around him, and Alexander found himself growing accustomed to it. In fact, he realized he was far more at ease with her now than when they had first met. Their dynamic had shifted—comfortable, familiar.
“It’s late. I should go. Get some rest, Ms. Sinclair,” Alexander said, glancing at his watch.
“Goodnight, Mr. Kingsley.” Isabella waved casually before turning toward the villa.
Alexander didn’t leave immediately. Instead, he waited, watching the lights flicker on inside, ensuring she was safe before slowly driving back to Kingsley Estate.
Once home, Isabella indulged in a long, scalding shower. But sleep wasn’t on her agenda. After drying her hair, she strode into her study, locking the door behind her. She drew the curtains and pressed a hidden switch on the wall. A blackout curtain descended as she powered up the custom-built computer, her fingers flying across the keyboard.
The screen blinked to life, and she initiated the transfer of the files she’d covertly copied from Marcus’s system. When the progress bar hit 100%, a flood of encrypted documents appeared.
“Just as I suspected,” Isabella muttered, her expression hardening as she scrolled through the contents.
Ever since her conversation with Evelyn, she’d been biding her time, gathering surveillance footage and evidence, confirming Marcus had stored everything on his private server. Now was her moment to strike.
Marcus had been at this far longer than she’d imagined. The files she uncovered weren’t just about Evelyn—there were photos and videos of other young women, all trapped in compromising positions.
“How many are there?” Her frown deepened.
Most people would take this to the authorities, but Isabella knew better. Even if Marcus was arrested, the legal system wouldn’t punish him severely. He’d be out in no time, and the victims would be forced to relive their trauma, identifying themselves in those humiliating images. She refused to let that happen.
But Isabella wasn’t soft-hearted, either. Marcus needed to be dealt with—permanently.
She snatched up her phone and dialed Julian from Cobweb.
“I need underworld contacts,” she said without preamble.
Julian, groggy from sleep, mumbled, “What’s the target?”
“I’ll send you the details. Make sure Marcus vanishes from Ontdale—quietly. I want him to suffer something worse than death.”
Julian yawned. “First thing in the morning?”
“No,” Isabella snapped. “I’ll give you the signal when it’s time.”
She’d been watching Marcus closely. She knew he’d been tampering with the security system lately. She knew he’d make his move soon. And she was waiting—waiting for him to slip up so she could expose him and dismantle everyone involved.
After ending the call, Isabella hacked back into Marcus’s computer, skimming through his recent messages. To her surprise, she found a string of exchanges between him and Sophia.
“Don’t worry, I won’t mess up this time!” Marcus had written confidently.
“Isabella isn’t stupid. But if you ruin her reputation, I’ll pay you triple,” Sophia had replied.
Isabella’s lips curled into a cold smile. “So, Sophia’s in on this too. She’s asking for it.”
This wasn’t just about Marcus resenting her position—Sophia had been pulling his strings, hoping to bring her down.
With that, Isabella wiped the files from Marcus’s system, planting a virus that would render the machine useless. The moment he tried to access it, all he’d see was lines of code scrolling endlessly before the system self-destructed.
The next morning, Evelyn arrived at work as usual. She was always the first in, often helping the cleaning staff when they were short-handed. The cleaners adored her, sometimes bringing her fruit from home.
“Thank you,” Evelyn murmured, accepting an orange before settling at her desk.
But the moment she looked up, her stomach twisted. Memories of yesterday crashed over her.
Marcus stood nearby, watching her with a smug grin.
He sauntered over, voice dripping with mockery. “So, Ms. Sinclair came to your rescue yesterday, huh? And yet, here you are—still too scared to speak up. Pathetic, Evelyn. Trying to play both sides? Impossible.”
Evelyn bit her lip but stayed silent, following Isabella’s instructions. She discreetly activated the recorder hidden in her desk drawer.
Marcus’s arrogance only grew at her meekness. “Tsk, you really did look pitiful yesterday,” he sneered. Then, lowering his voice to a threatening whisper, he added, “I’ll give you one chance, Evelyn. Behave today, and maybe I’ll delete those photos from my computer. Can you seize the opportunity?”
