Chapter 599

Isabella's fingers trembled as she reached for Alexander's sleeve, but he stepped back before she could make contact.

The fabric slipped through her desperate grasp like sand through an hourglass.

"Evelyn's participation should be voluntary," Alexander stated coldly, his jaw set. "You can't force someone into a team."

Isabella's lips parted in shock. "Force her?"

His gaze didn't waver. "Pressuring someone against their will is coercion. That's exactly what you're doing."

Frustration coiled tight in her chest.

It was always Evelyn. Everything Evelyn did was perfect in Alexander's eyes.

Her voice turned urgent. "When are you helping me end things with Dominic?"

After Alexander left with Evelyn last night, Isabella had no choice but to leave with Dominic.

She had dropped hints all evening, murmuring, "It's my birthday today. Would it kill him to get me a gift? Or at least a cake?"

Dominic had smirked down at her. "Cake? Sure. But first..."

His fingers brushed something metallic in his pocket.

"...I've always wondered—what do a woman's insides look like?"

The knife glinted under the streetlights.

Isabella's blood turned to ice.

Trapped in his car, she had curled into herself, praying he wouldn't act on his grotesque curiosity.

That night, nightmares of blood and viscera left her gasping awake.

If only Dominic would fixate on Evelyn instead.

Alexander's frown deepened. "I have no standing with the Powells. If you want out, negotiate with them yourself."

Their only connection was through Andrew—now gone.

He'd supported her education, but marriage was different. Intervening would overstep.

"What if you told them you've fallen for me?" Isabella blurted.

Alexander's expression darkened. "Are you out of your mind?"

"I'm married." The words were a blade. "You'd ruin your reputation."

Heat flooded her cheeks.

His phone rang—a merciful interruption—and he left with a clipped excuse.

Isabella stepped into the hallway, defeated.

"Ms. Morgan?"

She turned. A woman with sharp eyes approached. "You voted for me?"

"Vanessa Hart." The woman smiled. "And yes. But more importantly... I overheard your dilemma."

Isabella stiffened. "Eavesdropping?"

"Coincidence." Vanessa leaned closer. "But breaking your engagement isn't impossible. Especially if..." Her whisper sent a jolt through Isabella.

"Drug Alexander? Are you insane?"

Vanessa's smile turned razor-thin. "Burned bridges force accountability. Once compromised, a man like him won't abandon you."

Isabella's pulse raced.

"The Bennetts' moon celebration is coming. Dominic's family will attend—and so will Alexander."

Vanessa's nails dug into Isabella's arm. "Spike his drink there. The blame falls on the Bennetts. No one suspects you."

"Why help me?"

"Because I want you as his wife." Vanessa's eyes gleamed. "And I want Evelyn destroyed."

Meanwhile, Evelyn sat slumped in the music room, forehead pressed to her arms.

Leonard flicked her ear. "The competition's in weeks. Shouldn't you be composing?"

To outsiders, Leonard was intimidating. To her? A teddy bear in a grumpy disguise.

She groaned. "I've never written a full piece. Expecting genius now is like betting on lottery numbers."

Leonard snorted. "Nonsense. You know Natalie Riley?"

Evelyn shot upright. "The prodigy who sold out Vienna's Golden Hall?"

"My student. Couldn't compose at first either." Pride warmed his voice. "Now? Every performance is original."

He tapped her sheet music. "You're my student. You'll excel."

The competition only required a demo—perfection wasn't necessary.

For days, Evelyn drowned in classical melodies, scribbling notes whenever inspiration struck.

Slowly, the chaos in her mind began to harmonize.

Music, she realized, wasn't about perfection.

It was about catching those fleeting moments of magic before they slipped away.