Filed To Story: Watch Out! She's a Mastermind Heiress (Isabella Patton) Book PDF Free
The woman, her face still swollen from being hit, showed no sign of remorse. With a sharp shove, she pushed Evita away. Though once a proud socialite, Evita had been reduced to disgrace, and her strength was no match for the other woman’s. The force sent her tumbling to the ground.
Towering over Evita, the woman sneered, her voice laced with mockery. “Yes, I’m shallow, but at least I know my limits. I don’t provoke people I can’t afford to cross. As for your so-called collaboration with that master designer—if you truly had the talent, wouldn’t he have chosen you without you needing to sabotage others?”
It was past nine in the evening, and guests were passing by the banquet entrance. Embarrassed to linger, the woman hurriedly left, covering her face.
Evita lay sprawled on the cold ground, her arms and ankles throbbing with pain. The faint hum of conversations drifted from the banquet hall. She didn’t need to eavesdrop to know she was the subject of their gossip.
“Damn it!”
Evita clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. One by one, the faces of those who had humiliated her flashed in her mind: the betrayer, the assistant, Isabella, Vienna…
Taking a deep, steadying breath, she forced herself to her feet. She had sacrificed too much for the collaboration with Marcus to let it slip away now. She wouldn’t let it end like this.
Her eyes darkened with steely determination as she glared at the brightly lit banquet hall. But before she could act, hotel staff approached, quietly but firmly urging her to leave.
After the banquet ended, Isabella and Luka exchanged their farewells. Not long after, a sleek Rolls-Royce pulled up in front of her. The familiar license plate caught Isabella off guard.
As the window lowered, Andrew’s strikingly handsome face came into view.
“Why did you come in person?” Isabella asked, slipping into the passenger seat with a faint trace of delight. Moments ago, she had replied to Andrew’s message, mentioning she’d call her driver to pick her up. She never expected him to show up himself.
“I was nearby,” Andrew replied smoothly, leaving out the fact that he had carefully avoided drinking all evening, calculated the time it would take to drive from the east side of the city, and told the driver to return home.
From somewhere, he produced a delicate little cup and handed it to Isabella. “A sweet honey drink,” he said.
Isabella blinked, momentarily forgetting to take it. In the dim glow of the car’s interior, Andrew’s long, well-defined fingers held a soft pink cup—a peculiar sight that, for some reason, tugged at Isabella’s heartstrings. Perhaps it was because she had experienced so little care in the past that even now, when she was surrounded by people who loved her, such small gestures still moved her deeply.
Lowering her eyes, Isabella tilted her head slightly, her graceful demeanor quiet and introspective.
Andrew, mistaking her silence for overindulgence at the banquet, leaned closer to check on her. But before he could gauge her state, Isabella cupped his face with both hands and pressed a playful kiss on his left cheek, the sound unmistakably loud and mischievous.
“Thank you, Andrew. I’m very happy,” she said with a soft smile, pulling back to grasp the cup he had offered so tenderly.
Opening it, she took a sip, her eyes shimmering like moonlight. The sweetness lingered on her tongue, wrapping her in a comforting warmth.
Andrew was captivated, his gaze fixed on Isabella as if he wanted to immortalize this moment in his memory.
Isabella quickly finished the honey drink, replaced the lid, and turned to find Andrew still frozen in the same position.
Puzzled, she asked, “Andrew, is everything okay?” Unbeknownst to her, she had an irresistible allure in Andrew’s eyes. Her lips, glistening from the drink, looked enticingly soft and inviting.
Andrew’s gaze darkened with intensity. Unable to resist any longer, he gently tilted her chin upward and kissed her.
“Mmm…”
The air inside the car grew thick with intimacy.
Isabella barely had time to process how things had escalated so quickly before her thoughts melted away entirely.
A few moments later, Andrew regained his composure, adjusting his breathing as he shifted back into the driver’s seat. He stole a glance at Isabella, her cheeks flushed a rosy hue, before quietly starting the car and driving them home.
The fashion show was still some time away, and both Timeless Elegance and Marcus were meticulously preparing for the event.
Isabella had yet to reveal her identity as Sierra to Luka. She skillfully balanced her full-time job while quietly contributing design sketches to Timeless Elegance.
Her phone buzzed, displaying an incoming call. Noticing it was her brother Dane, Isabella quickly answered.
“Isabella, I’m tied up today. Could you take Susan to the hospital for her check-up?”
Isabella didn’t hesitate.
“Of course, I can. I’ll go pick her up Susan in a bit”
“Thank you, Isabella.”
Isabella smiled. “It’s no trouble at all.”
After ending the call, she reached out to Susan, and the two arranged to meet before heading to the hospital together.
Meanwhile, in a VIP ward, Marcus’s son sat beside him, his tone carrying a hint of disbelief.
“So, after the banquet, you started collaborating with Timeless Elegance?”
Marcus nodded decisively.
“Yes. Evita’s character is unacceptable—I can’t work with someone like her. Timeless Elegance has thoroughly impressed me.”
As Marcus spoke of Evita, his expression hardened with lingering anger, though his son appeared slightly anxious.
“Father, today, Miss Gordon’s friend is supposed to meet with you… but now that you started collaborating with Timeless Elegance…”
Marcus knew what he was about to say and interrupted him firmly.
“I’ve long made peace with the possibility of not being cured. Partnering with Timeless Elegance is my final wish in life. Don’t try to stop me.”
His son felt a sharp pang of sadness. Unwilling to show vulnerability in front of his father, he decided to step outside to collect himself.
As he reached the door of the ward, he froze.
“Miss Gordon?”
He hadn’t expected Evita to show up at the hospital, especially after being unceremoniously thrown out of the banquet by his father. But the light in his eyes dimmed when he realized the doctor—Evita’s so-called friend—wasn’t with her.
Evita noticed the shift in his expression and smirked slightly.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Vaughn. I’m here to discuss your father’s condition,” she said with feigned politeness.
“You’re not welcome here!” Marcus’s voice cut through the air from inside the ward, blunt and unyielding.
Evita narrowed her eyes, briefly recalling the humiliation she’d endured at the banquet. But she quickly refocused and stepped into the ward, her composure intact.
Her gaze settled briefly on Marcus’s pallid, sickly face. She spoke softly but deliberately.
“Mr. Vaughn, I can imagine your illness brings considerable discomfort during flare-ups. Unfortunately, I must inform you that my friend has received an offer and is considering leaving the country for some time…”
Marcus easily recognized the implicit threat in Evita’s words. He scoffed, quickly understanding that Evita’s previous rescue was nothing more than a strategic maneuver.
At this moment, Evita wasn’t concerned with Marcus’s opinion of her; her focus was entirely on achieving her desired outcome. Taking a seat, she laid out her terms clearly.
“Cancel your collaboration with Timeless Elegance, enter into an agreement with my company, and I will ensure my friend extends her assistance. You’ve seen her medical skills. Once your health is recovered, you’ll be able to form as many alliances as you see fit. Mr. Vaughn, the implications here are clear, aren’t they?”
Evita’s eyes darted between Marcus and his son. While Marcus remained stoically silent, his son appeared visibly anxious.
Given Marcus’s prolonged illness and daily suffering, compounded by a prognosis of only two months left to live, the opportunity for treatment seemed like a lifeline. With such a critical chance at hand, how could his father possibly refuse?
The desperation in Marcus’s son’s eyes was palpable as he looked at his father, yet Marcus’s stance was unyielding.
“Miss Gordon, your past assistance is appreciated and considered repaid. However, as I have previously stated, your skills and character fall far below my standards.”
“Father!” his son exclaimed, frustrated by his father’s inflexibility. “Your health is what’s crucial now! Is that partnership really so important?”
He was perplexed by his father’s prioritization of principles over his own life, unwilling to let go of any possibility that might prolong it.
“Miss Gordon, rest assured, I’ll persuade my father to agree to your terms…”
“Lauren!” Marcus abruptly clutched his chest and sat up from his bed, grimacing in pain, cutting off his son’s hasty promise.
“I will not enter into an agreement with any company other than Timeless Elegance. If you respect me as your father, please show our guest the door!”