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Chapter 621
Chapter 621:
She lunged forward, her hands reaching for Beatrice’s sleeve in a desperate plea.
The butler materialized from the shadows instantly. His forearm caught her chest like a brick wall, shoving her back. Belle stumbled, her heels catching on the rug. She barely kept her footing.
Beatrice regarded her with pure, unadulterated contempt.
“There is exactly one condition under which I will authorize the release of those funds,” she said coldly.
Belle looked up, chest heaving, panting like a cornered animal.
“You will go to Isolde Carson,” Beatrice instructed. “You will bow your head. You will apologize for your behavior. And you will sign an internal family declaration admitting that you overstepped your boundaries and interfered in her marriage p>
The words landed like a bucket of ice water. Belle’s skin crawled. Her stomach heaved. Apologizing to Isolde was a fate worse than physical torture—the absolute destruction of her ego.
“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “Grayson will never allow this. He knows how important this project is. He will override your decision p>
Beatrice let out a dry, rattling laugh. She reached across the desk and pressed a single button on the speakerphone console. The line was already connected.
“Tell her, Grayson,” Beatrice commanded, her eyes fixed on Belle with the predatory stillness of a hawk.
𝖳he 𝗯𝖾𝘀𝘵 r𝘦𝖺d𝗶ոg еxрe𝗋𝘪eո𝘤е 𝘰𝗻
A long, agonizing silence followed, broken only by the hiss of the dying fire. Finally, Grayson’s voice filled the dark study. He did not sound like the powerful CEO of SkyLine. He sounded frayed, hollowed out, and utterly terrified—a tremor in his voice that Belle had never heard before, the sound of a man who had seen the blade hovering over his neck and realized he had no armor left.
“Belle, listen to me,” he rasped, his breath catching through the speaker. “You have to do exactly what my grandmother says. You have no idea the kind of leverage Isolde is holding over us right now. She has made it very clear that if you do not bow your head and give her a public apology, she will tear this entire family apart. If you do not do this, we are both finished. There is no other way out. Just do it p>
The line went dead with a sharp click.
Belle stared at the black phone console. The last thread of her composure snapped.
Grayson had abandoned her. He had thrown her to the wolves to save his own position.
Her knees buckled. She lost all feeling in her legs and sank to the floor, her expensive coat pooling around her on the rug. She dug her fingernails so deeply into her own palms that the skin broke, warm blood welling beneath them.
She was trapped between the abyss of total financial ruin and the agonizing humiliation of begging Isolde for mercy.
“I will do it,” Belle whispered, her voice shaking violently.
Beatrice walked back to her chair and sat down. She raised her hand toward the butler in a dismissive gesture, as one might wave away a stray dog. “Get her out of my sight p>