Chapter 150

Isadora hung her head, turning her face away.

She couldn't bear for this man to see her looking so utterly defeated and humiliated.

It was supposed to be her 24th birthday—a day for celebration. Instead, it had become a cruel joke.

She could face the world with icy detachment, could withstand almost anything.

But this one small act of tenderness shattered the protective armor she'd fought so hard to maintain.

Her fingers clenched tighter; she bit down on her lip, leaving a faint mark on its soft curve.

The jacket draped over her shoulders was heavy with the faint scent of pine- Victor's scent—its warmth pressing down on her, making her shiver involuntarily.

A lump formed in her throat.

Victor, ever domineering, reached out and hooked a finger under her chin, insisting she look up at him whether she wanted to or not.

He made her meet his gaze.

Victor's eyes bore down on her, dark and intent, his voice dropping even lower. "Who hit you?"

His shadowed gaze swept the room, sharp as a blade, leaving a chill in its wake.

The crowd instinctively stepped back, cowed by his presence. No one dared provoke the infamous heir.

Prescott was slowly dragging himself out of

water was cold,

single person had bothered to help

out of your minds?

to react, his voice suddenly

his usually stern face now wearing a sycophantic smile

presence. I apologize for not welcoming you properly. This is just a family matter that got

years, had never actually

usually so proud, bowing

grew. "Dad, he's the one who kicked

don't understand. This is

The most powerful family in Capitol

had their hands

synonymous with power. A world-class

chill ran down Prescott's

flicked over to him, a glint of ice in

handprint on Isadora's face. That

shivering, now shook so hard his teeth chattered, unable to

his tie, rolled up the sleeves of his black shirt, and

given him as

steps toward Prescott. Each

drained of color; he stumbled backward

next moment, Victor seized him by the collar and slammed his head against

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