Chapter 505
Chapter 505:
Belle’s eyes lit with sudden, triumphant fire. “I knew it! Where did they go p>
Merrick gestured with a slight tilt of his chin toward a small table, where a glass of water — still beaded with condensation — sat untouched.
“She left about a minute before you burst in p>
The word snagged in Belle’s mind.
“She?” she repeated, her voice shifting into something uncertain. “What do you mean, ‘she’? You’re saying Sophia is a woman p>
“Yes,” Merrick confirmed, his gaze unwavering. “And I believe you passed her in the hallway p>
Belle went still. The hallway. The only person she had seen — the only person she had shoved past in her haste — was Isolde.
Her mind began to short-circuit, refusing to close the gap.
𝗥еad 𝘧r𝖾e 𝗇𝗈vе𝗅ѕ 𝘰𝗇.с𝗼𝘮
“You mean… Isolde?” The name came out as a choked whisper.
Then the denial came flooding in. Belle shook her head in rapid, frantic denial. “Impossible. Absolutely impossible. Isolde is a housewife. A socialite. She can’t even do calculus p>
A sound from the doorway cut through her tirade — a short, sharp, self-mocking laugh.
Grayson was leaning against the doorframe, a bitter, hollow smile twisting his lips.
“Belle,” he said, his voice stripped of all warmth. “Calculus is something Effie knew when she was five. And the person who taught her was Isolde p>
Belle whirled to face him. “Are you out of your mind, too? You actually believe she is Sophia p>
“Arrogance is the mask of ignorance, Miss Escobar,” Dr. Merrick said coldly. He lifted a file from the coffee table and held it out to her. “This is the registration form for Team Aether. In the lead architect column, the signature reads Isolde Carson. And in the notes section, there is a Greek letter p>
A single sigma.
Belle stared at the document. She saw the elegant, familiar signature of the woman she had despised for years. And beside it, the symbol she had revered and envied for just as long. The mark of Sophia.
The file slipped from her fingers and fell silently onto the thick carpet.
“No,” she whispered, her body beginning to tremble. “This cannot be real. If this is real… then what have the last five years of my life been? A joke p>
Her legs gave way. She crumpled to the floor in a broken heap. The carefully constructed world she had built around her own supposed superiority had just been obliterated by a truth she had been too arrogant to ever consider.
Grayson looked down at the sobbing woman on the floor. His eyes held not a shred of pity — only a vast, cold emptiness.
He turned and walked out without another word.
He had to find Isolde. He had to ask her why. Why she had hidden the most brilliant part of herself from him for five long, wasted years.
In the silent, sun-drenched VIP lounge, the only sound that remained was the desolate, shattered weeping of Belle Escobar.