Chapter 365
"Evelyn, may I stay at Château Blanc for a few days?"
Isabella Langley's voice was sweet and soft, but her eyes flickered with unease.
Evelyn Roland set down her wine glass and exchanged a glance with Bianca Savigny.
In the past, she might have agreed to her sister's small request without hesitation.
But times had changed.
The International Wine Tasting Championship was about to resume, and even the slightest disturbance could undo all their hard work.
"No."
"Evelyn!"
Isabella's eyes immediately welled up with tears as she tugged at her sister's sleeve, whining like a child. She deliberately softened her voice, swaying Evelyn's arm just as she used to when they were younger.
Evelyn remained unmoved, calmly withdrawing her hand.
"Was there anything else?"
The dismissal was clear. Isabella felt blood rush to her head, her nails digging into her palms to keep her expression in check.
She lowered her lashes, the long strands shielding the venom in her eyes.
"Then I'll take my leave, Evelyn."
As she turned, she sensed a sharp gaze boring into her back.
Evelyn watched her sister's retreating figure with an unreadable smile, her fingers lightly tapping the table.
Her sister's restraint was more impressive than she'd expected.
Isabella nearly fled in panic.
She always felt as if Evelyn's piercing eyes could see through every facade, leaving her nowhere to hide.
Bang!
The car door slammed shut.
Inside the confined space, Isabella let out a hysterical scream, her flawless makeup twisting with rage.
"Evelyn Roland! Just you wait!"
She pounded the steering wheel until her hands turned red.
Meanwhile, the Valrose residence in Beverly Hills blazed with light.
"What do we do now?"
Lydia Valrose paced anxiously, her stilettos clicking rapidly against the floor.
Owen Valrose hurled his glass onto the coffee table.
"This is all your daughter's fault! That ungrateful wretch!"
Shards of glass scattered, making the servants flinch and lower their heads.
Lydia's face darkened, and she shot a venomous glare at the curious staff.
"Keep staring, and I'll pluck your eyes out!"
She stormed upstairs, each step reverberating as if she meant to shatter the floor.
The next morning, Isabella fidgeted restlessly in the manor.
Her phone buzzed—an unknown number sent a message that chilled her to the bone.
"Same place. One hour."
Her fingers clenched around the device, knuckles whitening.
"Why won't they just leave me alone..."
Half an hour later, in a secluded corner of a café.
Isabella stared blankly at the middle-aged couple across from her.
"Lydia, Owen, don't push your luck."
"Is that any way to speak to your parents?" Lydia smiled sweetly, but her voice dripped with venom. "We could always pay the Rolands a visit and discuss your... origins."
Cold sweat trickled down Isabella's back, but she forced a mocking laugh.
"What do you want?"
Owen stirred his coffee leisurely.
"Simple. Make the Rolands cooperate with us."
Isabella sucked in a sharp breath.
This was pure delusion.