Chapter 478
Chapter 478:
“Gray, did you sleep well last night?” Belle asked, her voice dripping with sugary sweetness. “Does your back still hurt p>
Grayson stared straight ahead at the mirrored reflection on the elevator doors, his eyes locked onto Isolde’s. She was looking down at her tablet, her face completely impassive, treating them as though they were invisible.
Grayson flexed his arm and firmly pulled it free from Belle’s grasp.
“I am fine,” he muttered coldly.
𝖣𝗂s𝖼𝗼𝘷𝗲𝘳 ոе𝘄 𝘀t𝘰𝗋𝗶𝘦𝘴 𝗼𝗇 𝗴𝘢𝘭𝘯𝗼𝗏е𝗹ѕ.𝗰o𝗺
Belle’s smile faltered, but she refused to be ignored. She turned her head toward Isolde.
“Isolde, I am so sorry about last night,” Belle said, her tone laced with pure condescension. “I heard you are staying in one of the standard villas. Do you want me to call the front desk and arrange an upgrade p>
She let out a soft, self-satisfied laugh.
“Gray booked the Presidential Suite for us,” Belle continued, making sure her voice filled every corner of the small space. “It is massive. Honestly, for just the two of us… it feels a little too empty p>
The implication hung in the air, heavy and deliberate.
Grayson’s jaw clenched. A wave of pure revulsion crashed through him. The sheer audacity of Belle’s lie turned his stomach — the Presidential Suite had four separate bedrooms, and he had explicitly ordered her to stay on the opposite end of the floor. He had not slept in the same room as Belle, nor would he ever. He opened his mouth to correct her, a sudden, desperate need to set the record straight rising in his throat.
Isolde lifted her eyes from her tablet. In the mirror, her gaze met Belle’s — calm, flat, and entirely unimpressed.
“No thank you,” Isolde said, her voice crisp. “I have absolutely zero interest in occupying someone else’s second-hand space p>
Belle’s expression stiffened.
“Furthermore,” Isolde added, her tone turning clinical, “Presidential Suites are notorious for poor acoustic insulation. I need absolute silence to run my algorithms. I cannot afford to be distracted by… performative noises p>
Belle’s face flushed a deep, furious red.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Belle snapped.
Isolde turned and looked at her directly.
“It means your perfume is giving me a migraine,” Isolde said. “It is not just polluting the air in this elevator. It is polluting the basic concept of engineering rigor p>
Ding.
The elevator reached the ground floor. The glass doors slid open.
“Excuse me,” Isolde said. She stepped past them and walked out into the lobby without looking back.
Belle trembled with rage. She lunged forward, ready to follow Isolde into the lobby.
“That arrogant bitch!” Belle hissed.
“Enough!” Grayson barked.
His voice cracked through the small space like a whip. Belle froze, eyes wide with shock.
Grayson turned to look at her. For the first time in five years, what she saw in his eyes was not tolerance, not protection — it was pure, undisguised disgust.
“Do you have to be so relentlessly cruel?” he demanded, his chest heaving.
Tears instantly welled in Belle’s eyes. She played her victim card with practiced precision.