Chapter 142 Plotting Something Bigger

Chapter 142 Plotting Something Bigger

"Boss." Caius set down the decanter, brow furrowed, his tone carrying undisguised resentment. "If you were alive this whole time, why didn't you come to me first? If that idiot from the Bonello family hadn't crossed you and forced you to use the encrypted signal, how long were you planning to hide this from me?"

He ruled Wall Street, but standing in front of Isabelle right now, he looked like an abandoned dog, eyes full of grievance.

Isabelle took a sip of wine and calmly cut into her steak.

"This body is too weak." Her voice was flat, like she was describing something that barely mattered. "When I first woke up, the original owner had left behind a mess — the Morgan family back in River City acting as her parents, bullying at school, and some fake rich girl who'd bribed her way into stealing her grades. I didn't even have enough leverage to protect myself. What was I supposed to contact you with?"

As Caius listened, the veins on the back of his hands stood out against his grip on the knife and fork.

He couldn't wrap his head around it — Nyx, who had once cut through gunfire without blinking, had been trapped inside a high schooler's body, pushed around by a bunch of nobodies who didn't know any better.

"Where are they?" The murder in his eyes was barely contained, his voice dropping to something icy. "I'll send people to River City tomorrow and tear the Morgan family out by the roots."

"No need." Isabelle swallowed her food and glanced up at him. "They were my problem. I already handled it. Stay out of it — I don't want a trail left behind."

Caius bit down and forced himself to let it go.

He knew how she was. Once Isabelle made up her mind, nobody changed it.

The private room went quiet for a moment, filled only with the faint clink of silverware against porcelain.

Caius set down his knife and fork, his expression turning serious.

He looked at Isabelle and finally asked the question he'd been sitting on all evening.

"What about Mason?" He watched her closely. "After you disappeared, he nearly tore apart the entire European operation. He's been acting like a man unraveling, searching everywhere for any trace of you. When are you going to tell him the truth?"

Mason — the Syndicate's top enforcer, and in her past life, the person Isabelle had trusted most.

Isabelle's knife paused for just a second.

She set down her utensils and reached for her napkin, dabbing the corner of her mouth.

She leaned back in her chair. Her dark eyes held no warmth — just cold, clear-headed calculation.

"Not yet." Her voice was sharp.

"Why?" Caius didn't follow. "Mason's loyalty to you has never been in question. Having him here to protect you would make Washington a lot safer."

"That's exactly the problem." Her gaze cut like a blade. "That explosion came from someone at the top of the organization. The Syndicate isn't clean right now — there are eyes everywhere. The fewer people who know I'm alive, the better."

Isabelle picked up her water glass, her fingertips tracing slow circles along the rim.

"Mason is too reckless. He acts before he thinks. If he found out I was alive, he'd drop everything and come straight to the capital. A killer at his level crossing international borders would trigger the organization's surveillance systems immediately." She looked at Caius and spelled it out, word by word. "Until I've found the traitor and cut out the rot at the top, any contact is a risk. Telling him would just tip them off and bring more trouble down on us."

The words had barely left her mouth when someone knocked on the door. Without waiting for a response, the heavy wooden door swung open.

Sean walked in wearing a dark custom suit, one hand in his pocket, long strides unhurried.

His gaze swept the room from behind his gold-framed glasses, pausing on Caius for a beat before settling back on Isabelle.

"I heard you were here. Just stopped by to say hello." His voice was low and easy as he moved to Isabelle's side like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Caius's eyes narrowed, and he made no effort to hide the hostility.

He'd dealt with enough capitalists on Wall Street. He had no patience for men who treated people like pieces on a board.

And the way this particular man looked at Isabelle — that kind of hunger wasn't something you could cover up. The possessiveness was written all over him.

"Everlight's Sean, quite the timing." Caius stayed where he was, not bothering to stand, voice cool and flat. "This is a private dinner. No need for Mr. Morgan to go out of his way."

Sean ignored the dismissal. He pulled out the chair beside Isabelle and sat down, completely at ease, as if he'd been invited.

"Mr. Strand came all the way from out of town. As the host, it's only right I make sure the evening goes well." He smiled slightly, though it didn't reach his eyes. He let the question land casually. "Isabelle runs cold — she barely gives the Cameli boy the time of day. Doesn't happen often that I see her this comfortable with someone. Have you two known each other long?"

Caius let out a short laugh and was about to respond when Isabelle spoke first.

"Friends from when I was abroad." She picked up her napkin and touched it to the corner of her mouth, her tone flat, closing the door on Sean's probing.

Friends.

Sean caught the word instantly. Something flickered in the depths of his eyes.

The tension along his jaw eased, visibly. The restless feeling that had been sitting in his chest for the past while dissolved.

He leaned forward slightly and picked up the decanter, refilling Isabelle's glass with quiet ease.

They were close. The sleeve of his suit brushed her arm, carrying a clean, cool scent of cedar.

Isabelle didn't move away. She lifted her glass and let him stay.

That small concession didn't escape Caius. His eye twitched.

Sean lingered a few more minutes, and once he'd made his point, stood without being asked.

"I've got a video call with the company. Take your time." He glanced down at Isabelle, voice soft. "Get home and rest." He'd already taken care of the bill.

The door closed behind him. His footsteps faded down the hall.

Caius stared at the door, then turned back to Isabelle, who looked exactly the same as before. He couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Boss. You and this Sean — something's off."

Isabelle set down her glass. "What's off about it?"

"He's clearly after something. And you didn't throw him out." He sounded like he still couldn't believe it.

Back in Mexico, Nyx had shut down every top-tier tycoon and underground power player who'd ever tried to get close to her. She hadn't thought twice.

But just now, Sean had crossed a line in plain sight — and she'd let him.

Caius shook his head, half joking, half warning. "You'd better keep this buried. Do not let Mason find out. You know how that man is — he'd be on a flight to Washington the same night and put a bullet in this Sean before morning."

Isabelle's expression didn't change. Her dark eyes were still.

"Mason couldn't take him."

Caius opened his mouth. And found he had nothing to say.