“There’s something else you should know about tonight…”
Isabella’s voice echoed through the breathless ballroom.
She turned, her gown flowing like liquid fire.
Alex swallowed hard. His collar suddenly felt suffocating.
“That fifty grand you offered me?” she asked, tilting her head. “Consider it a down payment.”
Alex blinked, panic rising. “Down payment? For what?”
“Your company.”
The silence shattered into a collective gasp.
Alex’s knees went weak. His arrogant facade crumbled. His startup had been quietly drowning in debt. A mysterious corporate buyer had offered a desperate, last-minute buyout just yesterday. A faceless entity known only as…
“I.L. Holdings,” Alex choked out, the blood draining from his face.
Isabella smiled. Cold. Triumphant.
“Isabella Laurent,” she corrected.
She snapped her fingers.
The blonde woman—Alex’s date, the one who had gently touched his chest and pretended to scold him earlier—stepped forward.
She didn’t look at Alex.
Instead, she handed Isabella a sleek leather folder.
“Everything is ready, Ms. Laurent,” the blonde said, her tone entirely clinical.
Alex’s jaw dropped. “Claire? What are you doing?”
“Claire isn’t your trophy date, Alex,” Isabella interrupted smoothly. “She’s my lead corporate auditor. I needed to know if the CEO I was bailing out had the character to lead my new division.”
Isabella opened the folder. Pulled out a gold pen.
“You failed the audit.”
She slashed a thick, brutal line across the buyout contract.
The sound of tearing paper echoed like a gunshot.
“The deal is dead.”
Alex scrambled forward, dignity abandoned. “Wait! You can’t! I’ll lose everything!”
“You already have,” Isabella whispered.
She let the shredded contract flutter to his feet like snow.
“I suggest you start polishing your resume, Alex.” She turned back toward the spotlight, the entire room parting for her. “I hear they’re hiring waitstaff.”