Chapter 194

Izzy wiped away her tears before entering a bar. She wasn't crying from hurt, but from anger. She wanted to hurt someone—her father-in-law. Or rather, the man who didn't deserve that title.

She'd already booked a boxing session, but it wasn't enough. She sighed.

The bar was quiet, almost sterile in the midday light. No blaring music, no crowd; just the refrigerator's hum and the bartender's rag flicking against glasses. Sunlight illuminated dust motes. It was precisely the kind of place unsuitable for midday visits, making it Izzy's perfect choice.

She pushed open the door harder than necessary, her jaw tight, eyes burning. Her heels clicked on the floor as she slid onto a bar stool without a word.

The bartender looked up. "Something light?"

Izzy didn't hesitate. "Whiskey. Neat."

He raised an eyebrow but asked no questions. He poured the drink and placed it before her.

She ignored the customary thank you, grabbing the glass and taking a long drink. The burn anchored her, steadying her shaking hands.

Her phone vibrated. Calen's name lit up the screen. She flipped it over. It vibrated again, persistently. She let it ring until it stopped, then again. Still Calen. She briefly picked it up, hit "Cancel," and dropped it back on the bar as if personally offended. She'd told him she was sick that morning; he should have left her alone.

She took another sip, slower this time, letting the silence settle as her thoughts swirled.

Olivier Horvath.

She hated the replay of his words in her mind, his smirk, the way he spoke of Liam as if he were rotten, as if Izzy hadn't witnessed Liam's transformation, his struggle to escape a dark past and breathe clean air.

She slammed the glass down.

Liam. God. What kind of father speaks that way about his own son?

She recalled Liam that night—drunk, hollow. It made sense now. Olivier had planted those words in his head. Worse, he believed them; he wasn't just being cruel.

She clenched her jaw. If Olivier were here, she would have punched his smug face.

Another sip. Her gaze fell to her hands; they were still.

She tried to think, to see Liam clearly, as she always had. And she did. She saw the boy who lingered in her grandfather's office, fixing shelves, listening to lectures on hard work and patience. He never boasted, never mentioned it. But he'd been there, even when she wasn't.

If Liam had grown up around Olivier, he would have been different—cold, corrupt, like his father. But he hadn't. He'd learned from his grandfather and his own father's actions, not their mistakes.

She finished the whiskey.

As she set down the empty glass, she noticed the door open behind her, but was too lost in thought to see who entered.

Then, a voice interrupted her stupor. "Well, this is a coincidence," he said. "I'm starting to think you're following me."

Izzy stiffened, slowly turning, her eyes narrowing.

Frederik.

She frowned. "Why are you here?" She hadn't expected him to be the first to appear.

"I should be asking you the same question. A bar? Whiskey at midday?" He chuckled, sitting beside her. "What's got you so upset?"

"That's none of your business."

"Well...you're right," Frederik leaned back, tapping the counter. "I didn't expect you and Mr. Horvath to be this...close. But I guess it makes sense now."

He signaled the bartender. "I'll have whatever she's having."

Izzy frowned, her eyes narrowing. "What's that supposed to mean? Why are you suddenly talking about Liam?"

Frederik shrugged. "Liam Horvath made it clear he didn't like me, especially after we met in Macau."

Izzy snorted and signaled for another drink.

Frederik continued, "But I didn't think Mr. Horvath himself would go so far. Targeting me directly? Is he really that insecure? Or...did you tell him to do it?"

"You're insane," Izzy muttered, avoiding his gaze. "What does any of this have to do with me?"

Frederik's drink arrived. He took a sip, then set it down. "I don't appreciate being ambushed, especially by people I barely know."

Izzy hesitated before speaking. "Whatever Liam did, it has nothing to do with me."

Frederik raised an eyebrow, watching her intently. His gaze was sharp, but she didn't flinch.

After a moment, Izzy slid her glass forward. "Put it on his tab," she told the bartender, gesturing to Frederik.

She stood, grabbing her bag. "Let's not do this again. It would be nice if we didn't see each other anymore. Your presence is enough to ruin my week."

Frederik smiled, leaning forward. "Then you might want to check your calendar. We'll see each other at the board meeting next week. Or did you forget about that?"

Izzy didn't respond. She turned and walked out, leaving him with his drink and a faint smirk on his face.

"Drako..." Frederik muttered. A tall man approached. "You said...Isabella Rossi came from Olivier Horvath's office, right?"

"Yes, sir."

Frederik nodded. While dealing with Liam's actions against his company, he'd had people following Izzy, so he knew her whereabouts.

"First, Olivier visits his son. Then his son gets drunk at a public event. Now Isabella sees Olivier and ends up in a bar drinking whiskey at midday," he said, grinning. "This is getting more entertaining by the minute."

"Shall we add more chaos?" He looked at Drako, who smiled, revealing gold teeth.

"Yes, sir," Drako said.