Filed To Story: Watch Out! She's a Mastermind Heiress (Isabella Patton) Book PDF Free
Lowe glanced at the screen, noting the ward’s stillness. His brow furrowed in confusion. Andrew had insisted on visiting the detainees, yet somehow, they had ended up back here. Lowe just couldn’t figure out why.
A suffocating tension filled the air, heavy with unspoken foreboding, forcing Lowe into an uneasy silence.
His instincts screamed danger, though he couldn’t pinpoint why. Up until now, his superior remained unaware he had been brought here by Andrew.
Just as this thought crossed Lowe’s mind, the silence shattered with a soft “click.”
Through Denby’s ward window, someone gracefully slipped inside with practiced stealth.
Lowe and the guard team leader froze, their shock doubling when they saw the intruder’s face.
“Lieutenant General Avila?”
They stood paralyzed, instinctively waiting for Andrew’s lead.
Yet Andrew and Isabella remained eerily composed, as if Elton’s unconventional entrance through the window had been expected all along.
Lowe’s throat tightened as he fought to suppress the dark implications of the scene unfolding before him.
His eyes darted to the monitor, watching as Elton strode purposefully toward Denby’s bed, coming to a halt before the unconscious figure.
Denby lay vulnerable, sustained by an IV and an oxygen mask—vital lifelines that shouldn’t be disturbed. Yet Elton’s hand reached decisively for the mask.
The medical implications were clear—removing the oxygen mask would trigger a dangerous spike in blood pressure, potentially devastating for Denby’s fragile brain.
“Commander Thatcher, I’m sorry.”
Elton’s whispered words hung in the air as his fingers grazed the mask, but before he could act, a weathered hand shot out, clasping his wrist with surprising strength.
Denby’s eyes snapped open, and while the monitoring equipment registered the change, the vital signs miraculously remained stable.
The revelation struck like lightning—while Isabella and Andrew maintained their composure, Lowe and the guard team leader stood thunderstruck.
Inside the room, fear flickered across Elton’s face as he jerked his hand away.
“Commander Thatcher, you’re awake? That’s great. I’ll fetch the doctor right away. What perfect timing—I came to visit and found you.”
Hope flickered in Elton’s mind like a dying flame. Those retired soldiers were still in the dark about his identity, and even if they’d told Denby something, immediate suspicion seemed unlikely. His priority now was damage control.
Denby observed Elton’s theatrical retreat with keen eyes, seeing through the carefully constructed facade to the nervous energy radiating beneath.
“Wait a moment.” Denby stopped him.
“Elton, after thirty-some years, what’s your honest assessment of me?”
Elton turned slowly, meeting Denby’s gaze.
“Commander Thatcher, you’ve always treated me well.”
“Yes, you’ve mentioned that before.” Denby’s words came out as a whisper, heavy with meaning.
“Then explain to me why you’d bite the hand that fed you, ruthlessly trying to kill Alvina, Andrew, and Isabella?”
Denby’s eyes suddenly blazed with intensity, piercing through Elton’s facade like a blade through paper.
Raw fury and betrayal coursed through Denby’s veins at the mere thought of this man—this ousted companion—killing his daughter. He asked coldly, “Why? Have I ever mistreated you? Did Alvina ever mistreat you? Answer me, Elton!”
The revelation that Denby knew everything—the plot against Andrew, the truth about Alvina’s death—hit Elton like a physical blow. As he looked into Denby’s eyes, swimming with a storm of condemnation, rage, and bitter disappointment, something inside Elton snapped. Years of pent-up resentment came pouring out.
He said, “Why? How dare you ask me why?”
Elton stalked closer to Denby’s bed, his composure crumbling.
“I always believed I was your successor, but no matter how hard I worked, how many years I devoted, Alvina always outshone me. I desperately wanted to prove myself better than her, but you never gave me the chance. What choice did I have?”
The words tumbled out like a dam breaking, years of bitterness flooding forth.
“I had one goal in life—just one! To achieve it, this was my only path! As for Andrew, he was in my way. Using Isabella to eliminate him seemed the best solution. If those incompetent fools hadn’t botched everything, if I had had more time for preparation…”
With his schemes exposed, Elton abandoned all pretense. His words flowed freely now, as he unleashed years of festering resentment toward Denby and his inner circle.
He spoke freely, venting his years of dissatisfaction with Denby all at once.
Looking at Denby’s grave expression, Elton said, “But knowing all this won’t save you. Tomorrow was meant to be your treatment, but you’ve awakened ahead of schedule. Such a shame you’ve learned too much, Commander Thatcher. Perhaps it’s time for a family reunion with Alvina…”
Elton’s eyes burned with murderous intent as he tensed to strike, but fate had other plans.
The door opened with a resounding crash as Lowe and the guard team leader burst through, instantly positioning themselves as human shields before Denby’s be.
“Elton, stop it! What the hell are you doing?” the guard team leader bellowed, his voice laced with both authority and wariness, eyes fixed on the two-faced Elton.
Lowe, standing beside him, was gripped by a cold dread. Never, in his darkest imaginings, had he thought that the very superior he had sworn loyalty to would secretly conspire to commit murder.
Elton had sent him to investigate Isabella before, but only now did he realize that it had never been for Commander Thatcher’s sake, but rather to eliminate Andrew.
Elton’s sharp gaze landed on Lowe, suspicion flashing across his face.
“Why are you here?”
Lowe hesitated, his tongue tied in uncertainty. Before he could form a response, Isabella and Andrew entered with their people in tow.
A group of people closed in around Elton.
Elton’s eyes snapped to Andrew. In a chilling moment of clarity, it all fell into place.
“You suspected me all along? This was a trap you set up together?” Andrew remained silent, but Elton needed no confirmation. The pieces fit too perfectly.
A bitter, mocking laugh erupted from his throat.
“Good. Very good. I’ve truly been outplayed.”
His gaze shifted to Denby, and his expression darkened.
“And what about you, Commander Thatcher? Did you really have a relapse?” Elton no longer trusted a single soul in the room. His venomous glare made Isabella uneasy.
She stepped forward, her voice steady.
“Dr. Mia already treated Commander Thatcher’s old injury last night. Elton, if you had done nothing wrong, none of us would have turned against you. You climbed by stepping on others, yet you still think you’re the victim?”
“What do you know!?”
Elton’s hand shot up, finger pointing accusingly at Isabella, but his words were aimed at Denby.
“You never favored me from the start, yet you still dangled the title of your successor before me! I had no choice but to betray Alvina! Now Alvina is gone, and just as I’m about to take over your position, I discovered that you still have a Qiviut Organization under your command. What the hell is going on?! Am I really so unworthy of inheriting what should be mine?”
Isabella’s brows furrowed. She hadn’t expected Elton’s reason for targeting Andrew to stem from this.
Her voice was cool, cutting.
“From what I understand, the highest-ranking officer of the Qiviut Organization is chosen based on personal merit. Only those who are exceptional in every regard can be appointed. Elton, your lack of integrity alone disqualifies you.”
Elton stiffened. Her words—so absolute, so damning—set his blood aflame. A sneer twisted his lips.
“Oh? I’m not qualified? Isabella, you said ‘from what you understand’ — and where, pray tell, did you gain such privileged knowledge? Or is Commander Thatcher’s so-called confidentiality policy nothing more than a farce? He keeps me in the dark, yet spills everything to his precious granddaughter-in-law?”
His accusation struck hard, accusing Denby of blurring the lines between public and private affairs.
Isabella’s eyes turned icy. Her next words were crisp, each syllable deliberate.
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