Chapter 200

Isabella Sinclair's heart raced as she rushed through the underground parking lot with Olivia Bennett, her grip tight on the designer handbag.

Ada was already seated in her sleek black limousine, exhaustion evident in her posture as the door began to close.

Then—a hand shot out, stopping it.

"Miss Ada, I understand you're upset about the leaked photos. Believe me, I'm furious too. Windsor Estates had no part in this!"

Isabella's breath came fast, her forehead glistening with sweat.

Ada turned, her practiced smile flawless. "Ms. Sinclair, we have a contract. I know you wouldn’t deliberately breach it. You wouldn’t have Alexander Kingsley’s trust otherwise."

Olivia’s shoulders relaxed slightly. Maybe there was still hope.

But then Ada’s tone shifted, cold and precise.

"However, Windsor Estates has a serious security issue. As general manager, you’re accountable. Today it’s wedding details—tomorrow, client data. This negligence is unacceptable. Wouldn’t you agree?"

Olivia’s fists clenched. She couldn’t stand seeing Isabella treated like this.

Isabella raised a hand, silencing her. "You’re right, Miss Ada. The breach is our failure. I take full responsibility."

"Ms. Sinclair—" Olivia’s voice cracked.

Ada’s smile didn’t waver. "Terminating our contract is the only logical step. Otherwise, what’s the point of agreements?"

The door started closing again.

"Wait!" Isabella thrust forward a velvet box. "Even if we can’t work together, I’d like you to have this. A token of goodwill."

Ada eyed it but didn’t take it. "Another time, perhaps."

The limo pulled away.

Olivia seethed. "That was a slap in the face!"

Isabella exhaled sharply. "She’s protecting her brand. Right now, we have bigger problems." Her gaze hardened. "Someone betrayed us. And I will find them."

She tossed the box into a nearby trash bin.

"If a gift isn’t accepted, it’s trash. Let’s go."

As they left, a shadow moved near the bin.

Nathaniel Kingsley watched Isabella’s retreating figure, then bent to retrieve the discarded box.

"Sir!" Gordon protested.

Nathaniel shrugged. "I’ve done worse."

Back at Windsor Estates, Isabella gathered her team. The air was thick with frustration—some staff were near tears.

She leaned against the conference table, calm. "This isn’t the end. We fix the leak, we move forward. No one’s losing bonuses over this."

The team rallied, refusing to take time off.

Later, Olivia shut the door, whispering, "Why not confront the traitor now?"

Isabella smirked. "Let them sweat. The guilty always slip up when they think they’re safe."

Her phone buzzed—surveillance footage was ready.

Olivia nodded. "I’ll trace the leak."

Isabella’s smile turned razor-sharp. "Good. Hunt them down."