Chapter 18

"You used to hold your liquor like a champ. What happened?" Adrian swiftly handed her a glass of water and some painkillers.

"Three years sober—who can handle this much alcohol all at once?" Isabella knew Alexander despised the smell of liquor on women, so she'd abstained throughout their marriage.

"Honestly, if I didn't know you were drunk, I'd think you were pregnant," Adrian teased.

"Ha. What would you all do if I was carrying Alexander's child?" A shadow of pain flickered in her eyes.

"What could we do? Raise the kid with you. Blood doesn't matter—the child would be innocent." Despite his disdain for Alexander, Adrian had a lawyer's unwavering sense of justice.

"Relax. Alexander would never let me bear his child." Isabella scoffed, sipping water to clear her throat.

"By the way, do you remember last night?"

"I remember picking a fight with Victoria, then Alexander showed up...? After that, it's a blur."

"Really don’t remember?"

"I think... I saw a ridiculously hot guy who helped me out? Damn, I was too wasted to get his number."

"That was Julian. We were at his new club."

Hearing the name, her interest evaporated. "Pass. That man’s a walking red flag."

"Did you know Alexander dragged you into the men’s restroom?"

Isabella’s eyes widened. "What?"

"No clue what happened in there, but when I walked in, you were hugging him and wiping your nose on his shirt." Adrian shuddered at the memory.

She gasped.

"Sis, if I hadn’t shown up, Alexander might’ve—"

"Stop. He’s not that kind of man." She massaged her temples irritably.

"You’re still defending him?"

"I’m not. He’s cold, unromantic, and hates me, but he’s not a predator." The words left a bitter taste.

"Funny thing—last night, he asked if I’d marry you. Told me not to play with your feelings, called you a 'delicate flower.'" Adrian smirked. "Since when does he care about anyone’s love life?"

"Wait. Why would he say that to you?"

"He mistook me for Oliver. I played along and told him to back off my woman. Bet he’s fuming."

"You’re insufferable." Blushing furiously, Isabella punched his arm.

Nathaniel whipped up a hearty breakfast, knowing she’d overdone it last night. Crispy bacon, golden eggs—the works.

Isabella descended in a silk robe, hair tousled. Even in sleepwear, she exuded effortless allure. Nathaniel flushed and averted his gaze.

"Hey! Two grown men live here. Have some mercy!" Adrian groaned, pressing a cold egg to his bruised face.

"Three years of white dresses and sneakers—I’m done. I’ll wear what I want, when I want." She bit into toast defiantly.

"Why only white dresses for three years?" Nathaniel frowned.

"None of your business!" they snapped in unison.

Makeup applied, sleek white blazer donned, Isabella strode into the hotel office—head pounding like a drum.

Sipping coffee, she replayed Adrian’s words. Had Alexander actually worried about her last night?

Don’t be naive. He just hates seeing his discarded toy in someone else’s hands. She wouldn’t fall for his mind games again.

Her phone buzzed—a message from the Ashbourne Intelligence Unit.

Cassius: Negative press about you was scrubbed. Alexander handled it.

Isabella: How generous.

Elvis: Deleting articles won’t fix this. Pathetic.

Beth: Abernathy stocks barely dipped. Disappointing.

Adrian: Can’t touch him yet, but let’s ruin the Sterlings first!

Isabella: Patience. Revenge is a dish best served publicly.

"Nathaniel, my office."

He entered promptly. "Yes, Miss Sinclair?"

"The documents I requested—ready?" She spun her chair lazily.

"Prepped. We can file anytime."

"Not yet." Crossing her legs, she tapped her diamond bracelet—a gift from Grandfather. "Leak it to our media allies. Let the public chew on it first."

"But going public complicates things. Why not strike fast?"

"Where’s the fun in that?" Her smile turned glacial. "I want the Sterlings desperate. And when they beg Alexander for help?" She exhaled sharply. "That’s when the real game begins."

That evening, prime time:

BREAKING: K Group SEVERS TIES with Sterling Furniture Over Quality Scandals!

The Sterlings scrambled as social media erupted:

"Vintage Elegance line is garbage!"

"Thaddeus’s fiancée’s family is fraudulent!"

"Canceled my order—this is disgusting!"

In his study, Alexander listened as Gordon detailed the PR nightmare.

"The Ashbournes wield immense influence. Their boycott is a death sentence." Gordon smirked. "Thank God the Sterlings aren’t public—their stock would’ve tanked."

Alexander’s glare silenced him.

"These allegations lack proof. How did this start?"

"Rumor says the new GM at Elmsworth Hotel axed the Sterling contract. Within days, every K Group property followed."

"A hotel manager has that power?"

"Not just any manager. Emeric’s daughter—Isabella."

Alexander’s grip tightened on his glass.

Isabella.