Back in her office, Isabella sat across from Elijah Chen, her private legal strategist and long-time confidant.
"You were right," he said, dropping a stack of documents onto her desk. "Whitmore Group has been shifting assets to offshore accounts through shell companies in Luxembourg and the Caymans. Classic panic move."
Isabella smirked. "Desperate men make sloppy choices."
Elijah nodded. "We can intercept the transfer if we act in the next 72 hours."
"Do it," Isabella replied without hesitation. "Also, I want full acquisition reports on the subsidiaries. Start with the media arm."
Elijah gave her a long look. "Are you sure you're ready for this much heat? If we corner him financially, he might retaliate… personally."
Isabella leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers. "Let him try."
—
Meanwhile, across town, Liam slammed his fist against his office table.
"Who the hell leaked the press release before I approved it?" he barked at his assistant.
No one answered. No one dared.
He grabbed his phone and dialed a number he hadn't used in years.
"Hello?" a raspy voice answered.
"I need you to dig into someone," Liam said coldly. "Isabella Li. Find out what she's planning, who she's working with, and most importantly—where she's vulnerable."
There was a pause, then a low chuckle. "You sure you want to go down that road, Whitmore? She's not the same girl you crushed years ago."
"I know," Liam replied. "That's exactly why I'm worried."
—
Later that night, Isabella sat alone in her study, staring at an old photo: her wedding day.
She looked at the girl in the picture—the naive smile, the blind hope—and felt nothing but distance.
That girl was dead.
In her place stood a woman reborn.
And this time, she wouldn't just survive.
She'd conquer.