Isabella offered a strained smile, her eyes dropping to her plate as conflicting emotions swirled within her.

A phone buzzed abruptly.

Lucas retrieved his device and checked the screen.

“Please excuse me,” he said, rising and moving toward the balcony to take the call. “What is it?”

His assistant’s voice was crisp and clear. “Mr. Grant, Mr. Blackwood’s Maybach followed Miss Scott all the way to her residence earlier.”

Lucas’s grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles turning white.

What was Ethan playing at?

“Understood,” Lucas replied coldly before ending the call.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady the storm inside him, and returned to the dining table.

Noticing his tension, Isabella asked with concern, “Is everything okay? Company trouble?”

“It’s nothing serious. Just a minor issue,” Lucas assured her, forcing a smile.

Isabella didn’t push further, though unease lingered.

The next day, as Isabella arrived at her studio, she immediately sensed something was off. Before she could pinpoint it, a large, angry man stormed in.

“Isabella Scott! Show yourself!” he shouted.

Her heart pounding, Isabella stepped forward. “I’m Isabella. How can I help you?”

The man jabbed a finger toward her. “How dare you ask? Don’t play innocent! You’re scamming clients! A designer like you brings shame to the entire industry!”

Confused, Isabella replied, “Sir, please calm down and explain what’s going on.”

“What’s going on? Stop pretending! The design drafts I commissioned are all over the internet! How can my company use them now?” He slammed his phone down in front of her, displaying the designs she had completed just the day before. Isabella’s face paled as the realization hit.

Her finished drafts had been leaked—someone was clearly trying to sabotage her!

“Sir, please don’t worry. I will look into this immediately and give you a full explanation,” Isabella said, striving to stay calm and ease the client’s anger.

“An explanation? How will that help? What about my project now? Who covers my losses?” The man was relentless, dismissing her attempts to reason.

“I’ll create new designs for you right away. I promise they’ll meet your expectations. We still have time,” Isabella insisted.

“It’s too late! I want to cancel the contract! You will compensate me for all losses and pay penalties, or I’ll sue!” The man was immovable, leaving no room for negotiation. Isabella drew a sharp breath.

After considerable effort, she managed to escort the man out. The studio fell silent, her colleagues watching her with mixed expressions.

She struggled to maintain composure, her mind racing to figure out what had gone wrong.

She had been the only one handling the designs yesterday… No, that wasn’t entirely true.

There was one other person—Julian!

Yesterday, after finishing the drafts, completely exhausted, she had gone to the lounge to rest, leaving Julian to handle the final touches.