Filed To Story: Watch Out! She's a Mastermind Heiress (Isabella Patton) Book PDF Free
“I am a member of the Qiviut Organization—known as Rose. Does that satisfy you? The Qiviut Organization serves the country and its people. Even though Denby holds the highest rank, he cannot simply hand over leadership on a whim. Elton, whether you accept it or not, words mean nothing here. If you want it, you’ll have to prove yourself—by beating me first.”
“Rose?”
Elton’s expression flickered, his arrogance momentarily shaken.
Andrew, too, was momentarily stunned.
His Isabella was Rose? The very same Rose he had unknowingly worked alongside?
Right now, Andrew’s focus was entirely on Isabella.
While he wrestled with his thoughts, Isabella had already set the terms of the challenge with Elton.
Denby had once cultivated Elton’s abilities, so now, with Denby remaining silent, the guards held their ground. They surrounded Elton but made no move to seize him.
Elton was no match for Isabella in physical combat, so they opted for a different test—a battle of tactics.
Each would pose questions, taking turns answering until one failed to respond and admitted defeat.
Denby understood why Isabella had chosen this path—it was to protect him. He was moved by her foresight and silently signaled for the others to hold back until the contest reached its conclusion. Isabella’s gaze was firm as she met Elton’s glare.
“You go first.”
Elton, never one to hesitate, immediately threw out his most difficult questions.
Time slipped by unnoticed as the battle of wits raged on. Back and forth they went, neither giving an inch.
Yet no matter how intricate or deceptive Elton’s questions were, Isabella countered with precise, well-rounded answers that left no room for dispute.
Her past had honed her ability to think critically, anticipate hidden angles, and adapt to unpredictable situations. In contrast, Elton, though calculating, struggled against her unrelenting strategy. Isabella’s questions were not only challenging but meticulously crafted to align with the missions of the Qiviut Organization. Elton’s methodical approach, while effective in measured settings, proved ill-suited for this kind of fast-paced, high-stakes exchange.
And then, after another flawless response from Isabella, just as she prepared to deliver her next question, Elton’s lips pressed into a thin line. A slow, deliberate clap echoed through the tense room.
“I admit it. Your ability is undeniable. Perhaps Commander Thatcher was right not to choose me, but…”
Elton fixed his gaze on Isabella, his movements slow and deliberate as he stepped closer.
“I just can’t fathom why people like you even exist in this world! And why do I keep running into such people, time after time?”
The words had barely left Elton’s mouth when, in one swift motion, he drew a machete from behind his lower back.
Without hesitation, he lunged, the gleaming edge of the machete slicing through the air, aimed straight at Isabella.
The match had ended, and Isabella’s guard had momentarily dropped. No one had anticipated Elton’s sudden attack.
But the moment she sensed danger, Isabella reacted instinctively, stepping back just in time.
The blade barely grazed her arm, the fabric of her sleeve tearing open with a sharp whoosh. Luckily, it didn’t break skin.
Elton’s eyes darkened, his expression turning vicious. He swung again, this time with even more force—but before the machete could reach its target, Andrew moved. In one precise motion, he grabbed Elton’s arm, twisted hard, and with a sickening pop, dislocated it.
“Clang!”
The machete clattered to the floor, and with it, any chance Elton had of continuing his attack. His arm was now completely useless.
“You. You’re simply hopeless!”
Denby, who had been confined to bed, struggled to rise, supported by Lowe.
His trembling hand pointed straight at Elton, his voice shaking with fury and disbelief. The sheer audacity of Elton’s assault on Isabella left him visibly shaken.
Denby knew the power of the weapon all too well—it had been his own gift to Elton, a weapon that, in the wrong hands, could inflict wounds far more excruciating than an ordinary blade. Had Isabella and Andrew not reacted as quickly as they had, the consequences could have been catastrophic.
Yet even now, faced with Denby’s accusations, Elton showed no remorse. Defeat at Isabella’s hands had done nothing to temper his arrogance—if anything, it had only fueled his resentment. His bitterness festered, turning into jealousy, as he was unable to accept that Isabella was the stronger one.
Denby approached, his gaze cold, his disappointment cutting deeper than any blade.
“Elton, do you even realize what you’ve done? That task was the last one for Alvina. And from the moment you entered the military region, I have been training you—to be my successor.”
Elton’s breath caught. He met Denby’s unflinching stare, the weight of those words hitting him like a blow. Successor? The word stuck in his throat, leaving him speechless.
Suddenly, it hit him—Denby wasn’t lying.
For the first time, panic flickered in his eyes. If Denby was telling the truth… But before he could find his voice, Denby had already turned away, his decision made.
“Take him away.”
“Yes, sir!”
At his command, the guards and Lowe stepped forward, dragging Elton from the room.
Silence settled over the ward, the once-crowded space now occupied by only three people. Denby exhaled, a long, weary sigh. Slowly, he stepped forward, bending down to retrieve the fallen machete. As his fingers closed around the hilt, he stared at the weapon. His voice, when he finally spoke, was laced with regret.
“If I had known he would turn out like this… I never would have trained him at all.”
Isabella watched him, a pang of sympathy twisting in her chest.
“Denby, we always have more than one path to choose from when facing challenges,” she said gently.
“You trained him with the best intentions. He was the one who allowed his own prejudice to lead him astray. This isn’t your burden to bear.”
Denby nodded slowly.
“Thank you, Isabella. We were lucky to have you this time.”
A man who had seen more than his fair share of hardship, Denby did not let the weight of disappointment linger. He steadied himself, gathering his composure, and returned to the matter at hand. He secured the machete, then turned to face Andrew and Isabella.
“You both kept your roles in the Qiviut Organization from each other before. But now, the truth is out.”
He looked directly at Andrew.
“The truth about your mother’s death has been revealed. It’s time to let go of the past and move forward with Isabella.”
Then, his voice lowered slightly.
“And as for the organization… as I’ve told you before, you always have the choice to step away.
“No.” Andrew’s answer was immediate, unwavering. He met Denby’s gaze with firm resolve.
“1 may have joined the organization because Of my mother. But after everything I’ve been through, I know one thing for certain—this isn’t just about her anymore.” He reached for Isabella’s hand, his fingers lacing with hers.
“Grandpa, my original goal for joining hasn’t changed. If anything, my resolve has only grown stronger. Now, I have someone by my side, someone I love. who fights alongside me.” Isabella didn’t need to speak. She simply squeezed Andrew’s hand, her eyes reflecting the same unwavering determination. In that silent exchange, everything was understood. Denby watched them both, his battle-worn heart moved by their devotion—to each other, and to their cause.
“‘Good. I respect your decision. The country’s future depends on people like you.” When they left the military hospital, Denby went ahead to handle Elton’s situation. Meanwhile, Isabella and Andrew drove to the Klein Manor, eager to see Damari. The past few days had been tense, and Damari had been deeply concerned. As Isabella and Andrew sat in the car, the weight of everything that had just unfolded still lingered between them. Elton’s actions had been reckless, fueled by resentment. But if nothing else, the ordeal had only strengthened their understanding of each other. And now, they cherished that bond even more.
The plush leather seats cradled Isabella and Andrew as the car glided through the streets, their hearts beating in rhythm with each gentle sway of the vehicle.
In that perfect moment, something stirred within Andrew’s soul. His eyes flickered to the road ahead before he decisively turned the wheel at the intersection.
Isabella, her face previously lit with contentment, let out a surprised gasp.
“Andrew, you’re going the wrong way!”
“I am not.”
A mysterious glimmer danced in Andrew’s dark eyes as he stole a glance at Isabella, guiding their vehicle onto Ansport’s most magnificent bridge, where the city sprawled out before them like a canvas of lights.
With a smooth motion, he opened the car’s roof, letting the evening breeze dance around them, carrying promises of tomorrow.
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