Chapter 272: Chapter 272
Chapter 272
Isabelle slipped the small black flash drive deep inside the inner lining of her boot, carefully pressing down on the leather to ensure the outline didn't show from the outside. She had spent the last two hours taking a massive risk, sneaking into Sam’s private study while Madame Laroche was distracted on the main floor overseeing the evening estate chores.
Finding the encrypted drive tucked inside an old ledger in Sam’s desk was a pure stroke of luck, but holding onto it meant nothing if she got caught outside her locked room. She hurried down the stone service hallway, stepping quietly over the cold tile until she reached the heavy oak door of the wine cellar. Slinking inside just in time, she pulled the heavy door almost shut behind her, sitting down on the edge of the small wooden cot and folding her hands in her lap to appear completely helpless before Madame Laroche made her final security rounds.
Not even ten minutes later, the sharp metallic click of the external deadbolt echoed through the thick wood. The heavy door swung open wide, and two housemaids dressed in black uniforms walked in first, carrying a wide silver tray laden with fresh hot soup, bread, and covered porcelain dishes. Right behind them stood Sam Keystone, dressed in an immaculate tailored navy suit fresh off his private jet flight from Monterey. He looked completely untired, stepping into the dim, cold room with the easy confidence of a man who owned everything in his line of sight. He motioned with a slight wave of his hand for the maids to set the tray down on the small wooden table in the corner, and the two women quickly set the dishes down before exiting the room, pulling the door shut behind them while Sam remained standing inside.
The moment the door latched, Isabelle stood up from the cot, her eyes burning with pure, unadulterated hatred as she glared at him across the room. “You monster,” she spat out, her voice trembling with rage as she took a aggressive step toward him. “Get me out of here right now! You have no right to lock me in this damn basement like an animal! I hate you, Sam! I despise every single breath you take!”
Sam didn't flinch, nor did he break his calm, polished posture. A slow, arrogant smirk spread across his face as he adjusted the silver cufflinks on his sleeves, looking at her frantic anger as if it were nothing more than an amusing show. “Isabelle, please,” he said smoothly, his voice sickeningly calm as he took a step closer to the table. “You really should eat something before the food gets cold. I had the kitchen staff prepare a proper meal for you the moment my plane touched down in Éze. You look pale, and throwing temper tantrums isn't going to help your physical health.”
“I don't want your damn food!” Isabelle yelled, knocking the silver water pitcher off the tray with a hard shove, sending it crashing onto the stone floor with a loud clang as water spilled everywhere. “I want you to open this door and let me leave! I know what you did, Sam! I know how you set Ethan up, how you stole his family’s assets, and how you played both of us for years! You think you’re so smart, but you’re nothing but a pathetic coward hiding behind your money!”
Sam’s smirk widened slightly, his eyes narrowing into cold slits as he watched the water pool around his leather shoes. He didn't raise his voice, but the warmth completely evaporated from his tone. “Ethan?” Sam asked, letting out a soft, mocking laugh as he shook his head. “You’re still sitting in the dark wasting your breath worrying about Ethan Castellan? Let me enlighten you on how your hero is doing back home, Isabelle.”
He pulled a high-end smartphone from his breast pocket, unlocking the screen and turning it around so she could see the bright digital display. Displayed on the screen were local news articles and broadcast mugshots from Monterey, declaring Ethan a missing, mentally unstable fugitive who had escaped a private medical hold.
“Ethan is officially ruined,” Sam declared, his voice hard as iron as he stepped directly into her personal space, forcing her to look at the screen. “His father stripped his executive voting rights, his bank accounts are completely frozen, and his name is dragged through every major news network in California. He is a broken, disgraced runaway wandering the streets with no money, no allies, and a criminal record. The Castellans are finished, Isabelle, and Ethan couldn't save you if his life depended on it.”
Isabelle stared at the headline on the phone, her breath catching in her throat as a wave of terror hit her chest. Seeing Ethan’s pale face on the news monitor made her stomach twist, but she refused to let Sam see her break down in front of him. She lifted her chin, staring directly into Sam’s cold eyes without backing down. “He is ten times the man you will ever be,” she said, her voice dropping into a dangerous, quiet tone. “You can steal his company and lock me in this room, but you will never control either of us.”
Sam’s expression hardened, his smile disappearing entirely as he grabbed her firmly by the chin, forcing her face up so she had no choice but to look at him. “Listen to me very carefully, Isabelle,” he whispered, his grip tightening enough to leave red marks on her skin. “You are never getting out of this place. This estate is registered under a shell holding company that doesn't exist on paper, and nobody in California knows where you are. You are going to stay right here in this villa, under my care and under my rules, for as long as I decide to keep you.”
He released his grip on her chin with a rough push, sending her stumbling back against the edge of the wooden cot. He pulled a crisp silk handkerchief from his pocket, casually wiping his fingers as if he had just touched something filthy.
“Eat your dinner, Isabelle,” Sam said coldly, turning his back on her and walking toward the heavy door. “Because starting tomorrow, I am hosting my Mediterranean investment partners upstairs, and I won't have time to come down here and play games with you.”
He stepped out into the hallway, pulling the thick oak door shut with a heavy thud, and Isabelle heard the distinct, final sound of the iron deadbolt sliding back into place from the outside. She sat down on the cot, reaching down to feel the hard outline of the flash drive stashed securely inside her boot.