Chapter 75

Levi's Pov

Elena let out a soft chuckle. "Oh please, don’t lie to Dad. We both know why you don’t want this marriage." She turned to my father, gracefully rising from the couch. "Dad, don’t tell me you didn’t know yet?" she teased, casting a sly glance my way. "Levi has been messing around with one of his staff."

The room went dead silent.

"What?!"

I felt the blood drain from my face. My heart slammed against my ribs as I looked at Elena in pure shock. How the hell had she found out about Isabella?

She was positively glowing with satisfaction at my reaction, feeding off my stunned silence.

"Oh, come on," she drawled, tilting her head. "You both weren’t as discreet as you thought. I feel insulted that you thought I wouldn’t find out."

I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to react—refusing to give her the satisfaction. This was calculated. Planned. She had been waiting for the perfect moment to use this against me.

Then the pieces started to fall into place. If she knew about Isabella, that could only mean she had her claws in Ferrari—spies, most likely.

Was she the one sabotaging our game out of spite?

"Levi, I warned you to stay away from the staff, didn’t I?" My father’s voice was dangerously low. "This could ruin our reputation! My God, what were you thinking?"

"It would ruin nothing. Nothing at all that I cannot fix," I said, hoping to sound as sure as I wanted to feel.

"Oh, now. Now you think you know it all?" Veins bulged at his temples—a look of a man on the verge of losing control. His hands clenched at his sides as though debating whether to strike me or strangle me with his bare hands.

This wasn’t how I had planned for any of this to unfold.

"You want to bring a low-class woman into this dynasty?"

Then, suddenly, the television in the room flickered to life, its glow casting eerie shadows across the walls. My breath caught in my throat as I turned toward it.

"Lena, what the hell?" I said when I saw her holding the remote, wondering why she had turned on the TV at such a crucial moment.

"Oh, calm down, my love. Patience." She stood beside the screen, her smirk widening.

I thought she had gone crazy. But almost at once, I understood why she seemed so excited. And my blood ran cold when I saw the image on the screen.

Isabella.

Her face was plastered beside a news anchor—a dark-skinned woman—with a bold red banner flashing beneath her image.

TRAITOR AT FERRARI CORPORATION FOUND!

And below that, in even bolder letters:

ISABELLA CHARGED WITH THE MURDER OF HER LOVER AND CO-WORKER, FRANCO DOMINIC.

The words blurred together as a ringing filled my ears. My breath hitched, my chest tightening as the world around me tilted.

No.

No, this couldn’t be happening.

This had to be some kind of mistake. A ploy. Another one of Elena’s manipulations.

coiled around my chest. Where is she? What have they done to her?

My God.

I knew—I knew—I shouldn’t have left her. A wave of nausea rolled through me, twisting my insides. My hands clenched into fists, nails biting into my palms.

Then came Elena’s voice, slithering through the thick, suffocating silence like a serpent.

“Well, Levi,” she murmured, her tone dripping with sick amusement. “Looks like sweet, innocent Isabella isn’t so sweet and innocent after all.”

She took slow, deliberate steps toward me, her heels clicking against the marble floor.

“Oh, shh, shh, don’t look so shaken,” she cooed, pressing a mocking finger under my chin.

Her arms wrapped around my rigid form, her touch like ice against my skin.

Then she leaned in, her breath warm against my ear as she whispered, "Looks like you have to marry me now."

The End of Book 1.
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