The morning after Victor's chilling warning, Isabella barely slept. Every creak in the house made her jump; every shadow was a threat. She hadn't told Kaya about the note or the missing toy-she didn't want to terrify her. But deep down, Isabella knew the line had been crossed.
Victor wasn’t just after her company anymore; he was after her soul.
At 8 a.m., she was in her office, sitting across from Roosevelt and Lisa. The window shades were closed, and the normally lively room felt stifling.
“We can’t wait for him to strike again,” Roosevelt said, his voice grave. “If we play defense, he’ll keep hitting us until we lose everything.”
Isabella nodded, her complexion pale but determined. “Then we go on offense. We find something—anything—that can take Victor Hayes down.”
Lisa adjusted her
