Chapter 546

Chapter 546:

Isolde looked at the checkbook in his hand, then at his impassive face. A sound escaped her — dry, hollow, entirely without humor. The expression never reached her eyes.

“Grayson,” she said, her voice dropping to a murmur. “Do you genuinely believe every wound you inflict can be bought off with money p>

Before Grayson could respond, Belle stepped forward, her eyes swollen and red.

“Isolde, don’t be so ungrateful! Two million dollars is more than your uncle’s failing company earns in a year p>

𝗪𝘦e𝗄𝗹𝘆 𝗿𝖾𝗅е𝗮𝘀𝖾𝘀 𝗈𝗇

The mention of her family’s company landed like a spark on dry tinder. Isolde’s gaze moved to Belle, her eyes turning flat and cold.

“My uncle’s company,” she said, her voice dropping to something dangerously calm, “would not be in this state if your Juarez family hadn’t bribed his suppliers to mix counterfeit materials into the raw components p>

Belle’s face went white. “You — you’re talking nonsense. That was just business competition p>

“Business competition.” Isolde took one step forward. Something in her bearing shifted — predatory, immense. “Was tampering with the brake pads on his car also business competition? Because where I come from, that is called attempted murder p>

The air in the corridor crackled.

Grayson’s composure finally cracked at its edges. His head turned sharply toward Belle, his frown deepening. “What brake pads p>

He had never heard a word of this.

Belle’s eyes darted away, unable to hold his gaze. “Gray, don’t listen to her. She’s inventing all of this — she’s jealous, she’s always been jealous p>

Isolde let out a short, cold laugh. “Grayson, your companion is not merely a thief. She is the daughter of criminals. Keep your money. You are going to need it to hire a very good defense attorney p>

She turned on her heel. Her patience was entirely spent. She was done.

As she took her first step toward the elevators, a sharp chime rang down the hall.

The elevator doors slid open.

A middle-aged woman in a floor-length fur coat, glittering with an ostentatious arrangement of jewelry, stormed out into the corridor. Cheryl Juarez. Her sharp, predatory eyes swept the hallway and landed on her daughter’s tear-streaked face. A piercing shriek escaped her.

“Who? Who dares to bully my baby p>

Belle rushed to her like a child spotting a rescuer, her trembling finger pointing at Isolde’s retreating back.

“Mom! It’s her! She stole Uncle Hector’s room, and she’s been slandering you p>

Cheryl’s face contorted. She charged down the hallway on her stiletto heels, a whirlwind of stale perfume and unchecked aggression.

Grayson moved to intercept her. “Aunt Cheryl. This is a hospital p>

“Get out of my way!” She shoved his restraining hand aside with surprising force and positioned herself directly in Isolde’s path, one diamond-laden finger thrust almost at the tip of her nose.

“You bastard born from a bankrupt dog p>

The vulgar outburst echoed through the quiet corridor. Nurses and family members nearby turned to stare, their expressions caught between shock and revulsion.

Isolde’s face remained a mask of cold indifference, but the hand at her side closed slowly into a fist.

“This is a quiet zone,” she said, her voice low and entirely even. “Get out p>