Chapter 182

“Well, we are making peace with each other,” Pamella said, tightening her grip on Izzy’s hand and pulling her closer. “Isn’t that right, Izzy?”

Izzy didn’t respond.

Seeing Izzy’s disinterest, Pamella turned to Calen. “What a surprise. I thought you were in a meeting? What brings you here?”

Calen didn’t answer immediately. His mind raced back to Albert’s warning—minutes earlier, Pamella had barged into Izzy’s office without an appointment. Albert’s concern was palpable; he’d mentioned Pamella’s overconfidence and the potential for chaos. This had prompted Calen to leave the boardroom immediately.

Calen cleared his throat. “I came to ask Izzy about the final reports she needs to submit before leaving the company.”

Izzy stepped back from Pamella and straightened her blouse. “They’re done. I’ll ask Anna to send them to your office, or shall I send them to the boardroom?”

“Just give them to Albert,” Calen said, looking between them. “Then I won’t keep you both.”

Neither of them spoke.

“I’ll see myself out,” he said.

Once the door closed, Pamella’s posture remained unchanged. She returned to her seat across from Izzy, crossed her legs, and rested her hands on her lap.

“I want to discuss the wedding preparations,” she said.

Izzy rolled her eyes inwardly. She picked up her pen and tapped it against her notebook. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but I already said I’m not going to be one of your bridesmaids. If you’re feeling idle, go to Calen’s office. Don’t come here.”

Pamella smiled, but didn’t move. “I wasn’t asking you a question, Izzy,” she said.

“Excuse me?”

“I know what you did,” Pamella said.

Izzy said nothing, watching Pamella without blinking.

Pamella took this as permission to continue. “I know you were the last person to see Monica before she stabbed Cecil.”

Izzy rolled her eyes and leaned back. She remained silent, waiting for Pamella to continue.

“Cecil is still in a coma,” Pamella said. “Monica is in prison. And I know exactly why all this happened.”

Izzy gave a small smile. “Please. Tell me.”

Pamella didn’t hesitate. “You knew about the affair—Monica and Calen. You knew everything before making it public. You let it happen to play the cheated fiancée. You knew people would take your side, making Calen look like a fool.”

Izzy said nothing, her arms now crossed.

Pamella leaned forward. “You wanted Weiss Inc. You planned this from the beginning, using the scandal to undermine him and shake the board. You pushed Monica into doing something stupid. You knew she would snap.”

When Pamella finished, Izzy laughed.

“How did you come up with that?” she asked. “Are you on something?”

Inwardly, she wondered the same thing. Pamella sounded unhinged.

“Truly… it seems I underestimated you and your connections,” Pamella said. “Now… before I reveal anything to Calen, I suggest you do what I say and—”

“What makes you think I care, Miss Johnson?” Izzy interrupted.

Izzy let out a quiet breath and stood, circling her table, her eyes fixed on Pamella.

“I didn’t know people could use this kind of nonsense to threaten others,” she said. “Only you could come up with something so creative… and use it to force someone to be your bridesmaid. It’s eye-opening.”

Pamella stood and stomped her foot. “Are you that confident? You think Calen won’t hate you after this?”

Izzy gave a small smile. “He can hate me however he wants. I don’t care.”

She pointed toward the door. “Now leave. I’m still working. And no, I can’t be your bridesmaid. I’m busy. You wouldn’t understand, of course.”

Pamella’s jaw tightened. Her eyes narrowed.

“You’re evil,” she said. “You fooled everyone. But not me.”

Izzy shrugged. “I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Pamella opened her mouth, but Izzy raised a hand.

“Take my advice. In this world, it’s better to mind your own business. Focus on your wedding. But don’t forget, you still haven’t paid me back for what you pulled last week. Maybe think about that instead.”

“You—”

“You didn’t really think I would let that go, right?” Izzy beamed. Without Liam, she would have been dragged down by that actor.

“Are you threatening me, Miss Rossi?”

“That’s a warning, Miss Johnson. I’ll leave you alone—if you do the same,” Izzy said with a cold smile. “You should focus on your wedding. Use that energy for something that actually matters. And if you’re worried I’ll take your man back… don’t be. I don’t pick up what I already threw away. He’s trash now—and I’m not in the business of collecting garbage.”

Pamella narrowed her eyes, but this time, she remained silent. She grabbed the invitation she’d given Izzy and left without another word.

Once alone, Izzy sighed. Why couldn’t they just leave her alone? She shrugged and returned to work.

Time passed quickly. When Izzy checked the clock, it was already six in the afternoon.

She stood, shut her laptop, and placed it in her bag. There was no time to waste. Tonight, she had another event—with Liam. It was the opening ceremony of a new luxury hotel, and he had a plus-one. Obviously, he was taking her.

In the past, she’d never attended such events. First, she was always traveling for work. Second, Calen never invited her. But now that she was leaving the company, things felt different.

When she stepped out of the building, a sleek black Mercedes waited. Mondo opened the door and greeted her.

“The food you wanted is inside,” he said.

“Thanks,” she replied. Since Liam was still at the office, she’d asked Mondo to pick up takeout. “Can you get him something as well? He probably forgot to eat again.”

Mondo nodded. “Consider it done.”

She slid into the backseat, settled her bag, and opened her food. She ate a few bites as the car pulled away—not heading home, but to a well-known design studio across town.

When they arrived, a stylist waited at the private entrance. They led her into a clean, minimalist room filled with garment racks and soft lighting. Three assistants appeared instantly. One took her bag, another a warm towel, and the third guided her to a velvet chair before a large mirror.

The lead designer, a short woman with sharp eyes, stepped forward with two dresses.

“I pulled a few options,” she said. “Liam said you might want something bold. I brought this deep green with a structured neckline, and this black one with a slit. Either works for the venue.”

Izzy examined both and chose the black one.

However, just as the designer was about to speak, a voice interrupted from outside.

“I already told you, I want the black dress! That’s Cindy’s signature dress! Where is she? Let me talk to her!” a voice echoed before the door opened.