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Chapter 622
Chapter 622:
Belle dragged herself off the floor. She felt like a walking corpse. She turned and stumbled out of the study, the heavy door clicking shut behind her.
She moved down the long corridor, cold drafts chilling her sweat-soaked skin. She pulled her phone from her pocket with shaking hands. A message glowed on the screen.
Everything is set for the STEM competition today. Kaiden will shine. The other one will be ruined.
Belle stared at the words. The crushing despair in her chest crystallized instantly into a hard, toxic spike of pure hatred.
She had to endure this humiliation today. But she would make Isolde pay for it—take this agony and multiply it a thousandfold and force it down Effie’s throat. Belle drew a slow breath. She smoothed her hair back with bloodied fingers and walked toward the exit, preparing to face the guillotine.
The morning traffic in Chelsea was loud and chaotic. Delivery trucks idled on the curb, and pedestrians hurried past the glass facade of the luxury apartment building.
Isolde stepped out of the private elevator and into the expansive marble lobby. She wore a tailored beige trench coat over a sharp, dark suit, carried a sleek leather briefcase, and moved with flawless posture and a face of absolute calm.
She walked toward the revolving glass doors.
She stopped.
𝖳𝘩𝖾 𝘣es𝗍 𝘳𝗲𝗏𝗶е𝗐𝘴 on ѕ.𝖼𝘰𝗺
Parked illegally in the loading zone directly outside the entrance was a massive black Maybach. Grayson stood leaning against the frame of the vehicle, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as if trying to conceal their trembling. He looked terrible—his expensive suit slightly rumpled, his jaw covered in rough stubble, his eyes bloodshot and ringed with bruised, exhausted skin. He looked like a man who had spent the entire night staring at a wall, paralyzed by the weight of Isolde’s ultimatum.
A moment later, the rear passenger door opened. Belle stepped out, wearing massive dark sunglasses that covered half her face. Her shoulders were hunched, and she kept her head down, making herself as small as possible.
Isolde stood inside the lobby and watched them approach through the glass, her gaze one of absolute, freezing indifference.
The security guard noticed the tension immediately. He stepped out from behind his podium, his hand resting cautiously on the radio at his belt. Isolde caught his eye and gave a microscopic shake of her head. He paused but remained standing, watching closely.
Grayson pulled open the heavy glass door and walked into the lobby. Belle trailed behind him like a condemned prisoner.
He stopped three feet from Isolde. He opened his mouth to speak, but his throat worked silently for a moment. Looking at her cold, unyielding face, the words seemed to turn to ash before he could form them.
Isolde lifted her left arm and glanced at her silver wristwatch. “I have a car arriving in exactly four minutes,” she said. Her voice was flat, carrying no anger, no sorrow, and absolutely no affection. “State your business p>