Chapter 215
Isabella Sinclair had just finished work.
Parking her sleek black sedan, she rolled her stiff shoulders, trying to ease the tension coiled in her muscles. But as she approached her luxurious penthouse, an unsettling prickle ran down her spine.
Her sharp eyes zeroed in on the entrance.
The plush welcome mat was slightly askew.
Someone had been here.
Her fingers tightened around the door handle as she scanned for any signs of tampering. She didn’t know if the hidden safe room had been compromised, but whoever dared to invade her space would regret it.
Isabella’s expression darkened.
In one fluid motion, she threw the door open and delivered a brutal kick.
BANG!
Darren Whitlock, who had been lurking in the shadows, was sent crashing to the floor with a pained grunt.
“Ugh!” He clutched his ribs, sweat beading on his forehead as he scrambled to his feet.
Seeing Isabella’s lethal stance, Darren hesitated, fear gripping his chest. But he forced a sneer, desperate to mask his terror.
“Well, well, Isabella.” His voice dripped with venom. “Look at you now, living like royalty in this penthouse. No longer that pathetic orphan everyone ignored.”
His face twisted with jealousy and hatred.
“Tell me, how many nights did you spend with Mr. Kingsley to earn all this? You’re disgusting.” His voice rose, shrill and unhinged. “Do you think you can erase your past just because you ruined my life? I’ll make sure everyone knows you’re still that worthless orphan. You’re nothing!”
Before he could finish, Isabella struck.
Her movements were swift, precise.
A sharp punch to his shoulder. A brutal flip that sent him crashing onto his back. The sickening crack of ribs echoed in the room.
Darren gasped, vision swimming from the pain.
“You—bitch!” he screamed as she planted her boot on his shoulder, pinning him effortlessly.
A knife glinted in her hand as she pressed the cold blade to his throat.
“Killing you here would be messy,” she murmured, eyes icy. “But I warned you. The next time we met, I wouldn’t hold back.”
Darren’s eyes widened, but even in pain, he smirked.
“Why shouldn’t I come after you?” he spat. “We came from the same hell. But you get to live like a queen while I rot? If you had just obeyed me, none of this would’ve happened!”
His delusions were endless. Blaming others was easier than facing his own failures.
Isabella raised the knife—
Then, a wave of dizziness hit her.
Her vision blurred. The knife slipped from her fingers as her knees buckled.
“You… drugged me,” she slurred, fighting the creeping darkness.
Damn it.
She had grown too comfortable. Too careless.
“Of course I did,” Darren sneered, wiping blood from his split lip. “Did you think you were the only one who could play with chemicals? I laced the entrance with a sedative. Impressive you lasted this long.”
He spat out a tooth, grinning through the pain.
“You thought you could kill me that easily?” he taunted. “Now, it’s my turn.”
When Isabella woke, she was bound to a chair in a derelict warehouse.
Her gaze snapped to Sophia Kensington, tied up beside her, sobbing uncontrollably.
Darren stood before them, grinning like a madman as he toyed with his phone.
“Since you both humiliated me,” he growled, “it’s time for payback.”
With a flourish, he started a livestream, his grin widening as the camera focused on them.
“The show’s about to begin,” he cackled. “Let’s see who begs for mercy first. Any bets on who dies?”
His laughter echoed through the hollow space as he relished their fear.
He couldn’t wait to see if Alexander Kingsley or Ethan Blackwood would risk everything to save them.
