Chapter 604
Chapter 604:
Isolde let out a short, humorless laugh. “A fake foundation crumbles the fastest. Let them build her up. The higher they elevate her, the more catastrophic the impact will be when I pull the floor out from under her p>
She walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows. The storm clouds were finally breaking apart over the city, revealing thin slivers of pale morning sky. “I do not care whose bed Grayson sleeps in, or whose face appears on the cover of a magazine,” she told Harper. “My only objective is to sever every single legal and financial chain binding me to that family p>
Harper sighed—a sound of deep, unqualified admiration. “You are colder than a Wall Street short-seller right now, Izzy. I love it p>
“I have to go,” Isolde said, checking her watch. “The headmaster at Effie’s school just called. There was an incident involving Kaiden this morning, and they need to see me immediately. I have to handle it before I go back to the hospital p>
“Give them hell,” Harper said, and hung up.
Isolde walked into her expansive walk-in closet. She bypassed the section of her wardrobe filled with the soft, pastel-colored dresses Grayson had always preferred and reached toward the back of the rack. She pulled out a tailored charcoal-grey pantsuit—the cut sharp, aggressive, and commanding absolute authority. The armor of a woman who answered to no one.
She dressed quickly, then stood before the mirror and applied a layer of high-coverage concealer with practiced precision, erasing the deep bruised shadows beneath her eyes and building a minimalist, flawless mask. The woman staring back showed no trace of the exhausted, terrified mother who had sat vigil in a hospital room all night. It was a perfect illusion. She looked like a weapon.
Isolde ordered an Uber Black. The sleek sedan navigated the wet streets of Manhattan and pulled up to the wrought-iron gates of the elite private preparatory school. The driveway was packed with expensive cars, chauffeurs standing by with umbrellas and wiping rain from polished hoods.
She stepped out and walked past the immediate, whispering stares of three wealthy mothers clustered near the entrance, their hands raised to their mouths. They were clearly discussing the morning news. Isolde did not slow her stride.
She pushed through the heavy oak doors and into the grand lobby, approached the mahogany reception desk, and picked up the gold pen to sign the visitor log.
𝘛h𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝘀𝘵 rеа𝗱іոg e𝘅𝘱𝘦rie𝘯c𝘦 𝗼n.с𝘰𝘮
The receptionist—a young woman in a neat uniform—glanced at the name. The color drained from her face. She shifted her weight nervously. “Mrs. Lancaster—I mean, Ms. Carson,” she stammered, her eyes darting toward the glass-walled lounge. “I should inform you… Kaiden’s guardian has already arrived. She is in the waiting area p>
Isolde’s hand stopped moving.
Grayson had never once attended a school meeting. He had always considered them a waste of his billable hours, and Isolde had handled every academic and disciplinary appointment for Kaiden throughout the past five years without exception.
She turned her head slowly.