Chapter 161
“So, she’s still unconscious?” Izzy pursed her lips, fingers tapping idly against her desk as she listened to Anna’s update.
Anna nodded, glancing at her tablet. “Yes, miss,” she confirmed. “She’s in the ICU. The doctors say her condition is critical, but they stopped the bleeding. The next twenty-four hours are crucial.”
Izzy exhaled softly, her eyes narrowing. She’d expected Monica to cause trouble—petty schemes or veiled threats, perhaps—but a direct attack? That was extreme, even for Monica. “Stabbing her…” she muttered, fingers drumming a steady rhythm. “I didn’t think she’d go that far.”
“She seems unstable,” Anna continued, biting her lip. “There are rumors Monica’s been acting strangely lately—paranoid, talking to herself, avoiding her usual circles. Some say she’s lost her mind.”
Izzy’s eyes flickered, a shadow passing briefly. “Huh,” she muttered. “Wouldn’t surprise me.”
She leaned back, eyes narrowing at the ceiling. It wasn’t hard to imagine. Monica’s life had crumbled rapidly after the scandal, her mother’s arrest, the freezing of their accounts—everything she’d built her image on stripped away in weeks. Izzy clicked her tongue, her eyes glinting coldly.
But even then, Izzy thought of the past. Her younger self, eagerly trailing after Monica, hanging on her every word, doing anything for her approval. How many times had she smiled, forced and bright, as Monica led her around, whispering schemes and secrets behind closed doors? Despite everything, those memories weren’t all bad. Back then, she’d been… happy. Or at least, she thought she was.
A faint scoff escaped her lips, fingers drumming against the desk. Maybe if Monica hadn’t betrayed her, things would have turned out differently. Maybe they’d still be friends—maybe Monica wouldn’t have spiraled into this. Maybe.
But that was pointless. Too many maybes, no real answers.
“Anything else?” Izzy asked, shaking off the thoughts.
Anna hesitated. “Yes, actually,” she said. “Monica’s mother is still in prison. No one bailed her out. None of her friends even tried to help. Reports say she’s been calling many people, but no one’s answering. She also tried to reach you, but you’d asked me to screen calls from the prison.”
Izzy’s lips twitched—amusement and disdain. “So they’ve finally abandoned her,” she muttered dryly. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”
Anna nodded. “People distance themselves when money’s no longer involved,” she said carefully. “Especially when the law’s involved.”
Izzy hummed, her eyes narrowing slightly. The thought wasn’t new—she’d seen it in business, friendships, even family. Money made people loyal. Losing it made them strangers. It was sad, pathetic, how easily people switched sides when the benefits dried up.
But that’s how it was. Loyalty was a commodity—bought and sold. Maybe she should have learned that sooner.
“Expected, honestly,” Izzy muttered, her eyes glinting faintly. “They’re all vultures. Once you can’t feed them, they find someone else.” She clicked her tongue, rolling her eyes. “Serves them right.”
Anna glanced at her carefully. “Should we proceed as planned?” she asked.
Izzy nodded curtly. “Of course,” she said, her tone smooth. “I want updates on Monica’s whereabouts. Keep an eye on the Weiss family too—especially Calen. I doubt he’ll take this lying down.”
Anna bowed her head slightly. “Understood, miss. I’ll handle it.”
“Good.” Izzy leaned back, her eyes narrowing faintly at the ceiling.
She exhaled slowly, fingers drumming a slow rhythm against the desk. So many people, so many shifting loyalties. The irony almost made her laugh. But there was no time for that now.
“By the way,” Anna started hesitantly. “I submitted my resignation.”
“Good,” Izzy smiled. She’d promised Anna she could continue working for her even after leaving the company, but she’d given Anna a choice: continue with Weiss Inc. or resign and follow Izzy. “Thank you, Anna.”
Izzy closed her laptop with a soft click, stacking documents neatly on her desk. She glanced at the clock—five sharp. Her lips twitched faintly, satisfaction glinting in her eyes. She’d finished everything in her job description—nothing more, nothing less. The resignation had stripped away any reason to exceed the minimum, and she wasn’t giving Weiss Inc. a second of unpaid overtime.
She leaned back, rolling her neck to ease the stiffness. “Anna,” she said smoothly, grabbing her coat. “Focus on the reports first. Don’t bother with anything not urgent. Just keep me updated on Monica and the Weiss family.”
Anna nodded quickly, fingers already flying over her tablet. “Understood, miss,” she confirmed.
Izzy smirked faintly, slipping her arms into her coat. “Good.” She adjusted the collar, glancing at the clock again. Five-twenty. Enough time.
By six, she’d packed up, phone and keys in hand, strolling out of the building with smooth, unhurried steps. The lobby was quieter than usual; most employees were buried under paperwork, but Izzy barely glanced at them. Her heels clicked sharply against the marble floor as she exited, the cold evening air brushing her face.
She went to the parking lot and drove towards Liam’s office.
She hesitated at the curb, eyes flicking up to the sleek glass building across the street. Lights were still on in a few top floors, a faint glow spilling through the tinted windows. Her fingers drummed idly against her phone. For a moment, she considered calling him, but…
She clicked her tongue softly, turning on her heel.
The café on the corner glinted warmly under a canopy of string lights, the scent of roasted coffee and warm pastries wafting through the open door. Izzy slipped inside, the warmth a soft sigh against her skin.
She ordered a cappuccino and settled by the window, one leg crossed over the other, fingers loosely wrapped around the warm mug. The steam curled softly, hazing her reflection in the glass. The streets outside were busy with the evening crowd, headlights cutting through the dark, footsteps and voices muffled by the café’s low chatter.
It was almost amusing how new everything felt. She felt unusually free. In the past, she’d work overtime, eat dinner in the office, and spend nights handling tasks. But now, having decided to move on from Weiss Inc., everything seemed unfamiliar and different.
Izzy’s eyes flickered briefly to her phone—no new messages. Liam was probably still in a meeting. She smirked faintly, lifting the cup to her lips with a soft hum. She could wait a bit longer.
Two women slid into the booth behind her, their voices soft but distinct. Izzy barely paid them any mind at first, fingers tapping idly against the porcelain rim. But then—
“Oh my god, do you remember that trip to London?” one whispered, excitement glinting in her voice. “Mr. Horvath and that woman from Europe—what was her name again? Felicity?”
Izzy’s fingers stilled, her grip tightening slightly on the cup. Her eyes narrowed faintly.
“Oh, right!” the other woman gasped. “I remember. They were all over the rumors back then—everyone thought they were a thing.”
“I know, right?” the first woman giggled, her voice dropping conspiratorially. “I heard Mr. Horvath even left an important meeting because she texted him. Can you imagine? He never does that for anyone!”
The other woman practically squealed, nearly sloshing her latte. “No way! That’s insane! Do you think they actually… you know…”
“Well,” the first woman drawled, smirking behind her cup, “they did look good together. I wouldn’t blame him, honestly. And Mr. Horvath doesn’t seem like the type to run after just anyone. Besides, if nothing’s going on, why was she visiting him? He just got back from London, right?”
Izzy’s grip tightened briefly, the porcelain warm and smooth beneath her fingers. Her eyes narrowed dangerously, glinting with something cold and sharp.
She exhaled slowly, tapping a finger against the rim of her cup. Liam never mentioned Felicity. But then again, he didn’t have to tell her everything. Not technically.
Her eyes flicked sharply to the glass doors of the building across the street, a faint smirk curling at the edges of her lips. Rumors, huh? Leaving meetings for a text?
She leaned back, her eyes glinting coldly. Well. This was interesting.