The Billionaire Who Stole My Heart

Chapter 879

As Soren peered at the documents spread before him, his face drained of color, and the fire in his lungs for a good curse seemed to fizzle out.

“Don’t worry, we’re family here,” Isaac said, his voice smooth as whiskey but with an edge sharp as a knife blade. “You can sell your shares to me or keep them. Either way, I won’t shortchange you when it comes to the annual dividends.”

It was a velvet glove cloaking an iron fist as Isaac suggested, “Soren, you’re getting on in years. It’s time you stepped back, spent your days playing with the grandchildren and enjoying your golden years.”

Dazed, Soren drifted away from the confrontation.

Isaac, methodical as a chess master, neutralized the peripheral family members and placed his own pawns in power.

Marcel, upon learning his months of hard graft had evaporated into thin air, was so furious it was a miracle he didn’t have a stroke on the spot.

And to add insult to injury, Leda had been whisked away by the cops, her fate unknown.

Manuel, seething at being cuckolded by Leda, refused to lift a finger to help.

Marcel’s influence waned, his voice barely a whisper in family matters.

When Zella sought out the Andersons, echoing Marcel’s plea, they flatly refused to get involved. They even advised her to divorce Marcel.

Divorce? Zella wouldn’t hear of it. She had a blazing row with the Andersons and cut all

ties with them.

Marcel still resided at Salter Manor, his mind spinning, yet failing to secure Leda’s release. Watching Marcel’s spirit wither, Zella’s heart softened.

contemplation, she bought fruits and some health supplements and went to

Brittany nodded with à detached air that hinted at expectation. “Are you here to

struck

the situation, and

down her peace offerings, Zella had a sudden change of heart. “I

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were,” she said instead.

“Regardless, won’t be

with Brittany’s frailty, Zella found herself at a loss for

until sleep claimed her once again.

of the ward, she

alley. Lost within it’s labyrinth, she circled

ended abruptly with a sharp click.

a foul mood. Desiring to figure a way out on her own, she found herself growing increasingly lightheaded with each step,

crested the rooftops, casting a misty glow, enveloping the alley in a chilling,

the dark.

of light, sent tremors through her body.

faint echo of

fists

shadows stretched long and ominous, and Zella’s lips turned pale with fright.

brink of panic, the sound of

“Zella.”

It was Marcel.