The black Maybach pulled up in front of a towering building—Whitmore Group Headquarters.
Isabella stepped out, dressed in an ivory pantsuit, her heels clicking with quiet authority as she entered the lobby.
The receptionist blinked. "Ma'am, do you have an appointment?"
Isabella smiled politely. "No. But Mr. Whitmore is expecting me. He just doesn't know it yet."
Before the woman could react, Isabella was already inside the executive elevator, swiping an access card.
Liam's access card.
Thirty seconds later, she stepped into his top-floor office.
Liam was mid-conference, surrounded by board members.
A stunned silence followed as she entered, her gaze sweeping the room.
"Gentlemen," she greeted, "I'll only take a moment."
Liam stood slowly. "Isabella…"
She placed a slim envelope on the table.
"My legal team has completed the paperwork. The Whitmore-Li joint venture has been dissolved. All assets revert to me as agreed—clause 12, subsection 4."
A murmur rippled through the room.
One of the directors whispered, "Clause 12? That's the silent clause she wrote into the prenup…"
Liam's eyes narrowed. "You had this planned."
She smiled. "No. You did—when you chose betrayal over honesty."
Then she leaned closer.
"This is my opening move, Liam. I hope you're ready for the game you started."
She turned and walked out, head held high, the sound of her heels echoing like a war drum in the marble halls.
Liam sat down slowly, the room spinning.
He had underestimated her.
And now… the queen was back on the board.