Chapter 259

Chapter 259:

Isolde let go of her mother’s hand, turned, and walked out of the trauma bay.

When she stepped back into the hallway, her eyes were completely dry — flat and black as two pieces of ice. Saul stood up.

“Where are you going?”

“To see the great philanthropist,” Isolde said, her voice devoid of any human emotion. “I want to look him in the eye.”

Isolde drove across the city to New York-Presbyterian. It was past midnight, and the VIP parking garage was mostly empty.

As she pulled into a spot, her headlights swept over a bright red Porsche 911. She recognized the license plate. It was Cheryl Juarez’s car — Belle’s mother. Isolde let out a low, dark laugh. The vultures were already circling, celebrating their kill.

T𝗵𝗲 𝘮oѕt 𝗉𝗼р𝘶𝗅𝗮𝘳 n𝘰𝗏𝘦𝗅s 𝗈𝗻 𝘨al𝗻𝘰𝗏е𝗅𝗌.co𝘮

She walked into the hospital and took the private elevator up to the VIP wing. She flashed her old Lancaster family ID at the night security desk, a card she hadn’t destroyed yet. The guard, half-asleep, waved her through without a second glance.

She stared at her reflection in the polished metal doors. Her hair was messy, her clothes were wrinkled, and her eyes were red. But she didn’t look like a victim. She looked like a wolf that had just been backed into a corner.

The elevator dinged. The doors slid open.

As Isolde stepped into the quiet hallway, she heard it — the distinct, celebratory pop of a champagne cork, followed by Belle’s high-pitched laughter, drifting from the slightly open door of Grayson’s suite. Cheryl must have smuggled the bottle in past the nurses, a flagrant violation of hospital rules that perfectly matched her character.

Isolde clenched her fists. Her nails pressed back into the open wounds on her palms.

Show time.

Inside the VIP suite, Cheryl Juarez held up a crystal flute filled with golden champagne.

“To the new era of InnoTech!” Cheryl cheered, her diamond bracelets clinking musically. “And to Grayson’s speedy recovery!”

Belle sat on the edge of the bed, smiling radiantly. She tapped her glass against her mother’s. “We really have to thank Gray. Without his strategic advice on resource allocation, we never would have landed that Department of Defense contract.”

Grayson leaned back against his pillows, holding a simple plastic cup of ice water. He looked exhausted, but offered a faint nod. “Your engineering team executed the build. I simply pointed you in the right direction.”

Cheryl took a sip of champagne and smirked. “I heard the Carson matriarch collapsed today. Stress-induced hemorrhage. The old woman should have retired years ago.”

Belle put a hand over her heart, feigning sympathy. “Oh, that is so sad. But business is business. It’s a harsh world.”

The heavy oak door of the suite hit the wall with a deafening crash.

The laughter died instantly. Cheryl froze, her champagne glass suspended in mid-air.

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