Chapter 396
Chapter 396:
Isolde pushed through the crowd, head bowed, playing the shattered, beaten ex-wife to absolute perfection. She reached the SUV. Arland yanked the door open. She practically fell into the back seat.
He slammed the door shut, cutting off the shouting. The heavy locks engaged with a loud click.
The moment the door sealed, the trembling in Isolde’s hands stopped instantly.
Her slumped shoulders snapped back into perfect, rigid posture. She pulled off her sunglasses, revealing eyes that were bright, sharp, and utterly ruthless.
𝖣o𝘄𝗻𝗹oa𝖽а𝖻𝗅e P𝖣F𝗌 𝗼𝗻 𝘨alո𝘰𝗏еl𝘴.c𝗈𝗺
Arland looked at her in the rearview mirror as he pulled into traffic, his chest still heaving. “That was brutal. She humiliated you p>
Isolde’s expression cleared. A small, terrifying smile touched the corners of her mouth. “That was theater p>
She opened her briefcase — hands perfectly steady — and pulled out a digital tablet. “Henderson’s titanium isn’t just impure,” she said, her voice returning to its normal, commanding cadence. “It has a critical flaw in its crystalline structure. It passes initial heat tests, but it cannot withstand the high-frequency vibrations of the Phoenix-X7 engines. Under the specific pressures of our design, it will develop micro-fractures and fail catastrophically p>
Arland’s eyes widened in the mirror. His foot eased off the accelerator.
“I needed Belle to fill her warehouses with it,” Isolde continued, tapping the screen. “I needed her to lock up Grayson’s emergency capital p>
Arland let out a low, dark chuckle. “So she just bought a massive pile of garbage p>
“Expensive garbage,” Isolde confirmed.
She pulled up a supply chain map on the tablet. Her finger traced a line down to a small, independent refinery in Ohio. “Now,” she said, eyes locking onto the screen. “Let’s talk about the real target p>
She picked up a digital stylus and circled a name in bright red ink.
Leland Industries.
The week bled by in a carefully orchestrated charade. Tuesday saw Belle on the cover of a financial blog, smugly announcing InnoTech’s “aggressive acquisition strategy.” Wednesday, Isolde allowed a rumor to leak about Carson Dynamics liquidating assets to cover operational costs, causing a minor dip in their private valuation. By Thursday, Belle had successfully poached a mid-level logistics manager — a victory she celebrated with a press release. Each move was a breadcrumb, leading Belle deeper into a forest of her own arrogance.
Friday night. The air inside the upscale Manhattan bar was thick with expensive gin and melted wax.
Isolde sat in a dark leather booth in the far corner. A half-empty martini glass rested on the table in front of her, the olive untouched at the bottom. She pressed two fingers to her temples. A dull, throbbing ache pulsed behind her eyes.
Playing the victim all week had drained her completely. Feigning panic in front of the board, dodging reporters, and letting Belle parade around the city like a conquering queen required a staggering amount of somatic control. Her body ached from the constant, unnatural tension.
Arland sat across from her, nursing a dark stout. He watched her rub her head. “You need to rest,” he said quietly. “You look like you are going to pass out p>