Filed To Story: Watch Out! She's a Mastermind Heiress (Isabella Patton) Book PDF Free
Beside a sleek luxury car, Andrew’s tall figure was unmistakable, catching Isabella’s eye as she approached.
“What brings you here?” she asked, her voice tinged with surprise.
“You didn’t tell me you were so popular,” Andrew replied, his eyes warm with admiration. “I heard you are going to take part in the international competition. Are you feeling any pressure?”
“No, I’ll be fine. Where did you hear about it?” Isabella inquired, her curiosity piqued.
“It seems everyone knows.” Andrew chuckled lightly, easing the mood.
Isabella nodded, and just then, Andrew presented her with a delicate jewelry box.
“This is for you. I hope you like it.”
Opening the box, Isabella was met with the shimmer of a beautiful pink bracelet, its glow reflecting softly in her eyes.
“Why did you buy me a gift again?” she asked, a mix of delight and confusion in her voice.
“You’ve got an international competition coming up, so naturally, I snagged you a little something. It’s just something to remind you not to put too much pressure on yourself, and if things get hard, you can always talk to me,” Andrew said with a soft smile, his gaze tender.
Isabella’s heart skipped a beat.
This was the first time she realized that even for something as small as a competition, someone would give her a gift. Back when she lived with the Chapman family, gifts were strangers to her, especially from Gilbert.
“Andrew!”
A familiar voice rang out.
Bursting through the gate, Waylon patted Andrew on the back, his voice bubbling with excitement. “What brings you here? Did you drop by to send me off to my shoot?”
Andrew’s smile twitched, a flicker of stiffness passing through.
“Yeah, let’s hit the road,” Andrew said nonchalantly.
Waylon scratched his head, a hint of confusion in his eyes. “Aren’t you here to pick me up?”
“Yep, let’s make a move,” Andrew replied, his voice even.
Waylon, oblivious to any undertone, simply basked in the warmth of the moment. Andrew, once rather aloof, now seemed genuinely caring—a pleasant change that didn’t go unnoticed.
“You really are the best, bro.” Slapping an arm around Andrew’s shoulders, Waylon declared with a hearty laugh, “It’s official—you’re my best bro from now on!” Turning to Isabella, he asked, “You coming along?”
Isabella shook her head, her lips curving into a chuckle as she watched them drive off. Returning to her room, she picked up the bracelet and settled by the bed. As she clasped it around her wrist, her typically composed gaze softened.
Everything felt different now.
When Isabella powered up her computer, she found she had become very popular, just as she’d anticipated. Even people outside the dance community were stunned that the enigmatic Bella was none other than a 22-year-old like her.
The buzz was palpable, with everyone talking about it.
Interestingly, despite the frenzy, no photos of her had surfaced online.
Isabella pondered for a moment and figured Andrew must have predicted her burgeoning fame and had likely worked discreetly to prevent her photos from public exposure. Without his intervention, her images would undoubtedly be circulating across the web.
The online community was ablaze with comments.
“Is Bella really just 22? I can’t believe it. Could she be a fraud?”
“Don’t question it—I was right there. Her moves were off the charts.”
“Sure, she can dance, but Bella’s choreography? It’s revolutionary. And she’s only 22? Hard to swallow. She probably had a seasoned choreographer in the shadows.”
“Totally agree! My own instructor couldn’t dream up moves like hers. No way a 22-year-old could have created those. She definitely had someone do that for her.”
“I’m starting to feel like it’s just a big show to boost Bella’s profile.”
“Dance is all about raw talent. If it’s merely a marketing stunt, that’s a letdown.”
“Well, the international competition will tell us everything we need to know. If Bella’s as stellar as they say, she should score high. Our country’s been out of the limelight for too long—we need a win. Whether those moves were choreographed by her or not, I just hope she can bring glory to our country.”
The sentiment was echoed across the board, with many believing if Bella was really that incredible, she could clinch the championship.
Isabella’s eyebrow arched skeptically.
The comments felt too synchronized, almost as if orchestrated. Was someone setting her up for a dramatic downfall?
If so, she was ready to take them on!
Just then, her phone buzzed—Gilbert was calling. Without a second thought, she answered.
“Is this true? You’re Bella?” Gilbert’s voice carried a mix of surprise and disbelief. He had just found out from a friend.
Isabella’s expression hardened. “What does that matter to you?”
Gilbert sighed. “So, you’ve been pushing yourself, trying to prove your worth to me and my family? You knew all along you weren’t really a Chapman, right?”
Gilbert started imagining things. If people found out his girlfriend was the acclaimed Bella, they’d be so envious! His relationship with Eliza was strategic, cemented by her status as the legitimate heiress of the Chapman family. Yet, Isabella’s emerging fame as Bella brought its own form of cachet.
“You’re insane!”
Without another word, Isabella ended the call.
In the days that followed, amidst the whirlwind of speculation and unexpected attention, Isabella carved out time to hone her dancing skills. She delved into videos from previous international dance competitions, studying the distinct styles and standout talents of competitors from around the world.
After a few busy days, she received a message from Andrew inviting her out.
“Been swamped lately? Fancy some afternoon tea?”
Feeling the weight of her preparations, Isabella simply texted back, “Sure.”
Andrew was prompt. Within ten minutes, he arrived. He chose a cafe perched high in the cityscape. The place boasted glass walls that framed the sprawling views beyond. They settled in, and Isabella found herself savoring the quaint, exquisitely crafted desserts. With each bite of the light, fluffy cake, the stresses and strains of the past days seemed to dissolve.
Isabella squinted happily, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she savored the moment.
“When are you heading to the competition?” Andrew asked, his elegant all-black suit making him look both refined and distinguished.
“The day after tomorrow,” Isabella responded.
“Aren’t you nervous at all?”
“Nope! Not at all,” she replied, taking another bite of her cake with a relaxed demeanor.
Andrew’s gaze lingered on her. He was captivated by the clear, bright quality of her eyes. They resembled the tranquil surface of a summer lake—effortlessly calm and deeply alluring.
As Isabella enjoyed her cake, oblivious to the surroundings, another pair of eyes watched her intently.
That person was Eliza.
Lately, things at the Chapman Group hadn’t been going well. Eliza had finally managed to lock down a meeting with a key client, Harrison Miller, whose sleazy demeanor she had tolerated because of the potential benefits his partnership could offer.
The meeting had gone well, raising Eliza’s hopes for a boost in Chapman Group’s status.
“Mr. Miller, let me escort you out,” Eliza said with a practiced smile as they concluded their business discussions.
As Harrison stood, his attention was suddenly drawn away by a sight across the cafe—it was Isabella.
Eliza turned to see what had captivated him and caught Isabella in the company of that pretty boy again. The scene piqued Eliza’s interest; the pretty boy with Isabella looked strikingly familiar. Wasn’t he the same guy who had stepped out of that sleek Lamborghini the other day?
It couldn’t be. Could it?
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