If you are looking for Abandoned Ex-Wife: Now Untouchable Chapter 678read online, you have come to the right place…
Chapter 678
Chapter 678:
Isolde set the phone down and placed her hands on the keyboard. She minimized the medical loan windows and opened a new, encrypted folder on her desktop.
She typed the title: Centennial Checkmate.
If the Lancasters wanted a public spectacle, Isolde would give them one. She would use their own money, their own guest list, and their matriarch’s trust to build a trap so devastating they would never recover from it.
She began to type, her eyes reflecting the cold blue light of the screen.
The hunt had officially begun.
It was 2:00 AM.
Po𝘱𝗎𝘭𝘢𝗋 ѕ𝗍𝗈𝘳ie𝘀 𝗼n.со𝗺
Isolde was sitting on her living room floor, surrounded by seating charts for the gala, when her phone screen lit up.
It was the hospital.
She answered. The night nurse’s voice was frantic.
“Ms. Carson, you need to get here immediately. Your uncle’s hepatic functions just crashed. His organs are failing from the toxin buildup. If we don’t bypass the injunction and get him on the MARS machine right now, he won’t make it to sunrise p>
Isolde dropped the phone.
She didn’t grab a coat. She didn’t change her clothes. She sprinted out of the apartment, her heart hammering a frantic, terrifying rhythm against her ribs.
When she reached the ICU waiting room, the scene was a nightmare.
Ellyn was collapsed on the floor, weeping hysterically and clutching a nurse’s scrubs. Through the glass window, Isolde could see a team of doctors performing chest compressions on Arthur’s frail body.
“We need the funds released, Ms. Carson,” the attending physician called out, rushing from the room. “The machine requires a two-hundred-thousand-dollar deposit to activate the proprietary filters. We cannot legally proceed without it p>
Isolde’s mind went blank. The medical loans hadn’t cleared. Keyon’s freeze was absolute.
She was out of time. She was out of options.
Her hands shook violently as she pulled out her phone.
There was only one person in the world with the liquid capital and the executive authority to wire that kind of money instantly.
Isolde swallowed her pride. She swallowed her hatred. She dialed Grayson’s private number.
The phone rang. Each tone felt like a needle piercing her skull.
Finally, the line clicked open.
In the background, she could hear the soft, muffled strains of classical music and the hum of tires on asphalt. Grayson was in his Maybach.
“What is it, Isolde?” His voice was smooth, laced with arrogant irritation.
“Grayson, please,” Isolde begged. Her voice cracked. The tears she had been holding back finally spilled down her cheeks. “My uncle is dying. Keyon froze the trust. I need a loan — two hundred thousand dollars, just to turn the machine on. I will pay you back with interest. I will sign whatever you want p>
Grayson sat back in the dark leather of his car. Hearing Isolde’s voice break, hearing her beg, sent a strange, twisted thrill through his chest. She was finally submitting. She was finally realizing she couldn’t survive without him.
He sat up straighter and opened his mouth to agree, ready to play the savior and bind her to him with debt.
But sitting beside him in the dim interior was Belle Escobar.