Isabella remained perfectly composed. “I’ll deal with things as they come. The gossip will die down once they see it doesn’t affect me. Truth always finds a way to the surface.”

Chloe admired her friend’s calm demeanor, though it also stirred a hint of sadness within her.

Just then, Isabella’s phone buzzed.

She glanced at the screen. It was Oliver, her assistant.

“Hello,” she answered.

“Miss Scott, I found the paparazzo. He agreed to meet tonight at The Crystal Cafe.”

“Understood. I’ll be there at seven. You’re coming with me.”

“Of course, Miss Scott.”

She ended the call and placed her phone on the desk.

Chloe looked at her, uncertainty clear in her eyes.

“Isabella…” she said softly.

Isabella looked up and offered a faint smile. “I’m fine. Just some loose ends to tie up.”

As evening fell, the city lights began to twinkle.

The Crystal Cafe was cozy, bathed in soft, warm lighting.

Isabella and Oliver sat by the window, waiting.

Oliver glanced around nervously while Isabella calmly reviewed some documents.

Soon, a man in a black jacket and baseball cap approached and sat across from them.

He removed his cap, revealing a shifty face. “Derek Jones.”

Isabella met his gaze. “You’re the one who took those photos?”

Derek smirked arrogantly. “Yeah, that was me.”

“Who hired you?” Isabella’s stare was intense and direct.

He flinched slightly, caught off guard.

“I did it on my own…”

Isabella let out a soft, dismissive laugh. “Really, Mr. Jones? Do I look like I believe that?” She leaned forward slightly.

Derek shifted in his seat, uncomfortable under her scrutiny.

“The technique was advanced. The angles were deliberate. You’re a professional. Most paparazzi go for clear, simple shots. You focused on blurring my face and capturing the exact moment Sophie handed me that gift. You wanted to sway public opinion.”

She paused, letting her words sink in. “So, who paid you? Five hundred thousand? A million? More?”

Sweat beaded on Derek’s forehead. His eyes darted around uneasily.

He thought it would be simple. Take the photos, get the money, disappear.

Now he felt trapped.

Oliver stayed quiet, observing everything closely.

He was impressed by Isabella’s control.

Isabella waited patiently for his response.

“You know how this industry works, Miss Scott,” Derek said, trying to sound calm but his voice wavered.

He rubbed his hands together, hiding his anxiety.

Casually, Isabella pulled a bank card from her purse and slid it across the table.