Chapter 41

Their gazes collided like thunder.

Harrison met Nathaniel's piercing stare, her voice steady despite the storm inside. "Nathaniel, I swear on my life, I didn't send that photo to Eleanor. I won't confess to a crime I didn't commit."

Isabella tugged Nathaniel's sleeve with practiced innocence. "Nathaniel, look at her! Still lying through her teeth. No shame at all!"

Nathaniel's expression turned glacial. "Harrison. Apologize. Now."

His command sliced through the air like a blade.

Harrison's silver-blue eyes shimmered, but her spine remained steel-straight. "I'll say it one last time—I didn't do it. No apology."

Nathaniel's obsidian eyes darkened dangerously. "Harrison. Your friend Gabrielle works at Vogue Paris, doesn't she?"

Ice flooded Harrison's veins. Was he threatening her loved ones now?

Isabella and Victoria exchanged triumphant smirks, their satisfaction practically radiating heat.

Harrison's fists clenched. In this moment, Nathaniel had stripped her bare, and these vipers were savoring every second. Humiliation burned behind her eyelids, but she forced the words through numb lips.

"Isabella... I'm sorry."

Defeat tasted like ashes.

Isabella's grin turned predatory. "This time, I'll be generous. But cross me again..."

"Harrison, clinging to Eleanor's favor won't save you. Nathaniel doesn't love you," Victoria purred.

Harrison's face drained of color, leaving her ghostly pale.

Nathaniel strode out without a backward glance. The room now held only three: Harrison, Isabella, and Victoria.

Harrison turned slowly. "So this was your little lesson?"

Isabella dropped the act, smirking as she examined her manicure. "Consider it a free tutorial, darling. Women like us? We conquer men, not grandmothers."

Harrison's breath hitched. "Isabella... you sent that photo?"

Isabella's silence was confirmation enough.

"You risked Eleanor's wrath on purpose." Harrison's voice shook. "This whole thing was staged."

"Bravo, Harrison." Isabella's laugh was poison wrapped in silk. "Eleanor despises me anyway. If she wants to lose her precious grandson? That's her funeral."

Harrison recoiled. "She's Nathaniel's grandmother!"

Isabella's eyes glittered with malice. "And? She's in my way."

"You're monstrous."

Harrison turned toward the door, but Isabella's voice followed like a curse.

"This was just Act One, sweetheart. Remember—neither you nor that meddling old bat can touch me."

Harrison's back remained rigid, hiding the icy smile spreading across her face.

Oh, Isabella had miscalculated. Badly.

As Harrison stepped into the hallway, Nathaniel stood silhouetted against the window, phone in hand.

The call she'd placed earlier was still connected—he'd heard every damning word.