A brilliant light ignited in Robert’s eyes, his smile stretching wider.

“That’s absolutely wonderful!” he declared. “My son is incredibly gifted and strikingly handsome. The two of you would be a perfect match! How would you feel about…”

His sentence was abruptly severed by a sudden, palpable chill.

Lucas materialized soundlessly beside Isabella, his formidable frame instantly blocking Robert’s view.

A thin layer of ice seemed to coat Lucas’s sharp, handsome features. His gaze was locked intensely on Robert.

Isabella found the entire situation rather amusing.

She offered Robert a kind look. “I truly value your suggestion. However, in matters of the heart, I prefer to trust my own instincts.”

Sensing the dangerous shift in atmosphere, Robert gave a nervous chuckle. Taking the clear hint, he quickly excused himself and retreated.

With him gone, Isabella’s initial surprise faded completely.

A sharp, determined glint flashed in her eyes. “Now,” she murmured with resolve, “it’s time to take out the trash.”

Lucas, standing protectively close, watched her with concern. He leaned in, his voice a low murmur. “Do you require any assistance with that?”

She turned to face him, offering a confident, reassuring smile. “Thank you, but I can manage this myself.”

Elsewhere, hidden in a secluded corner of the grand banquet hall, Oliver clutched his phone. His palms were slick with a cold sweat. His face had lost all color, his lips trembling uncontrollably. He was desperately trying to summon the courage to answer the incessant call.

The phone’s relentless ringing was a menacing echo, pressuring him into action.

Finally, with a white-knuckled grip on his resolve, he stabbed the answer button.

“What is happening?! Why wasn’t I immediately informed about the change in the design draft?!” Sophia’s voice screeched from the other end, sharp and laced with a fury so potent it seemed to physically vibrate through the device.

Oliver flinched so violently he nearly dropped the phone.

Stammering, he tried to explain. “Miss Reed, Miss Scott gave the entire studio a two-day holiday… I only just returned to work today… I assumed she had run out of options… It never occurred to me… It never occurred to me she would select a sapphire over the Rosalia pink diamond…”

“You fool! We’ve walked right into her trap!”

Before Oliver could form another word, his phone was plucked from his grasp.

Whirling around in alarm, he found Isabella standing silently behind him. Her sudden, silent presence sent a violent shiver down his spine.

The noise of the grand hall seemed to mute itself. The only sound left was the frantic, deafening pounding of his own heart.

With utter calm, Isabella raised the phone to her ear. Her voice was firm and carried undeniable authority. “Sophia, my advice is for you to turn yourself in willingly. If you refuse, this situation will become exceedingly messy for you. A peaceful resolution will no longer be an option.”

Without waiting for a reply, Isabella ended the call. She tossed the phone back to Oliver with casual indifference.

Oliver fumbled awkwardly to catch it, his face a mask of pure, unadulterated terror.

“M-Miss Scott…” he stammered, sweat pouring from his forehead and rapidly soaking his collar. His trembling lips struggled to form some plea for mercy, but he was utterly lost for where to even begin.