Chapter 142
The moment Isabella stepped into the lab, chaos greeted her.
“Ms. Sinclair! Something terrible—the lab’s been robbed!” a frantic voice cried out.
Isabella’s sharp gaze swept over the disarray. Shelves had been overturned, and several rare perfume bottles were missing.
“What exactly happened here?” Her voice was calm but carried an edge that made everyone freeze.
“Everything was perfectly fine when we left yesterday. Now half the lab is destroyed, and valuable items are gone. Someone must have broken in last night.”
She moved deeper into the room, assessing the damage with a practiced eye.
“What was taken?”
“The most valuable perfumes,” one of the technicians stammered. “Several rare collectibles and some of our most expensive base notes. And it wasn’t just theft—some of the equipment has been tampered with. We’re looking at millions in losses.”
Isabella’s expression darkened. “This was an inside job. No outsider would know what to take, let alone how to sabotage the equipment.”
Her suspicion wasn’t unfounded. These perfumes weren’t just expensive—they were irreplaceable. Some were crafted by legendary, now-deceased master perfumers, artifacts worth fortunes at auction. They were kept under strict access, available only to top-level employees. Even the damaged equipment, though it looked intact, was no longer functioning properly.
Marcus stepped forward, feigning innocence. “Whoever did this clearly knew their way around the lab. An outsider wouldn’t know how to sabotage the software like this.”
Isabella shot him a piercing look, seeing right through his act. She turned to the security team. “Pull the surveillance footage.”
An uneasy silence settled over the room.
“We tried,” someone finally admitted, voice shaking. “But the cameras malfunctioned last night.”
At that moment, Alexander stormed in, his presence like a storm cloud descending.
“Malfunctioned?” His voice was icy. “What exactly are our people doing? And of all nights, it happens when we’re robbed? A company of this caliber being robbed is beyond unacceptable.”
The room seemed to shrink under the weight of his fury. The guilty parties trembled, some even dropping to their knees.
“We’re sorry, Mr. Kingsley. We have no idea how this happened.”
Without surveillance footage, finding the real culprit would be difficult. Isabella exchanged a brief glance with Alexander, silently urging him to stay composed. She already had her suspicions—and a plan.
“Every person entering or exiting this lab goes through decontamination,” she said, her voice steady. “Not to mention fingerprint and facial recognition scans at multiple checkpoints. If anyone internal was involved, they’d leave traces. An outsider wouldn’t stand a chance.”
Her words sent ripples through the group. A few exchanged nervous glances, with Marcus leading the charge to stir trouble.
“Of course, the logs show everything. But Ms. Sinclair, you were the last to leave the lab last night. Mr. Kingsley left right before you.” He glanced around for support. “If anything was tampered with, it had to be after Mr. Kingsley left. There’s no way he’d steal from his own company. But you, Ms. Sinclair… you’re under serious suspicion.”
Others quickly nodded in agreement.
“Exactly. I’ve seen Ms. Sinclair spending a lot of time alone in the lab lately, not letting anyone else in,” another chimed in. “If something happened, no one would’ve known.”
Marcus pressed further, his tone dripping with mock concern. “Ms. Sinclair, I’ve heard you’re in a tight spot financially. After your divorce from Mr. Blackwood, you had to sell off your assets, didn’t you? Money must be tight.”
He let the implication hang in the air before continuing, “And with how obsessed you’ve been with those perfumes lately… well, some might say you’ve taken things too far.”
A murmur spread through the group as Marcus’s insinuations took root. He sighed dramatically, as if disappointed.
“No matter how much you love perfumes, Ms. Sinclair, stealing them is a crime. Even if Mr. Kingsley did give you shares, it doesn’t mean you can help yourself to company property.”
Marcus’s confidence swelled, his eyes gleaming with triumph. Without surveillance footage, Isabella had no clear way to prove her innocence—or so he thought.
But Isabella Sinclair was never one to be cornered so easily.
