KEY TO THE CEO'S HEART

CHAPTER THREE

The sharp echo of Margaret Ashbourne's heels tapping against the chilly marble floor was the only sound in the room. She paced, anger and incredulity roiling in her head. As she browsed through the countless stories strewn throughout the news, her fingers grew tense around her phone. Her blood ran hot as the taunting words pierced her gaze.

"Socialite Scandal: Camera Captures Isabella Ashbourne's Secret Fling"

"Is Isabella Ashbourne a Perfect Disaster or a Perfect Heiress?" Isabella Ashbourne's Most Recent Entanglement Makes People Take Notice.

The images, which featured Isabella in a stylish black dress with her palm resting assuredly on a man's chest, were incriminating. Her ex-boyfriend, a notorious playboy who thrived on drama and had a smile that shouted trouble, was well-known in high society. The captured moments were too personal and irresponsible. Who witnessed it didn't matter to Isabella. Unaware of the camera and engrossed in the moment, she was giggling. It was impossible to ignore the pictures.

It was a blow to everything Margaret had fought for, a slap in the face. Isabella's carelessness could not be excused, particularly at this time when the Ashbourne name needed to be restored. It was one step too far for Isabella, who had a tendency to make everything about herself.

Margaret's chest grew constricted. She had been shaping Isabella into the ideal daughter for years. Grace. Poise. Honesty. All she desired was for the Ashbourne legacy to represent. And now Isabella was ruining everything in a single, ill-planned moment. Margaret always had higher expectations. However, this? No. It was impossible for her to ignore this.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the study door sprang open. Isabella stood there with excellent posture, appearing as if nothing had occurred. As if she weren't on the verge of her family's total disintegration, she kept her chin high and her eyes glittered with an almost bored smile.

Margaret was unable to contain herself any longer. Her low voice cut sharply through the silence. Would you mind telling me why half of London is aware of your most recent transgression before I am?

Unconcerned, Isabella entered the room with a smile that bordered on amusement. "Mother, it's not a giant thing. The press often exaggerates stories. The press typically exaggerates everything they report. It will pass in a few days.

"Blow over?" Margaret lowered her voice to a perilous murmur. "Do you really believe that?"

With the tiniest hint of irritation on her face, Isabella raised an eyebrow. In a blatant display of defiance, she folded her arms across her chest and shrugged. "You're going overboard."

Beneath the surface, Margaret's anger simmered. How could she remain so unmoved, as though everything around them wasn't crumbling? There was an unspoken tension in the silence that hung between them. Every word Margaret had refrained from saying hung in the room like a burden.

Margaret's comments were purposeful, and her voice was icy. Isabella, you're a symbol. Others admire you. And now that this scandal has surfaced, all of our hard-earned gains are at risk. Are you aware of the impact this has on the family?

Isabella didn't flinch, but her eyes hardened. A tiny, sarcastic grin pulled at the corners of her mouth. "Maybe, Mother, you ought to have considered that before bringing me into this family. None of this was something I requested.

Margaret's throat tightened with breath. The words hurt. They both made a concerted effort to disregard the truth, yet there it was. Their relationship was on the verge of collapse. The years-long gap between them had been widening.

She tightened her jaw. Isabella had sacrificed everything for her future. However, this? Her self-destructive conduct and defiance in all of her actions were unacceptable.

Margaret remarked coldly, "You've had your chances." "And now is the right time to consider a change." She let the weight of the words sink in as they hung in the air.

Isabella's eyes flickered with uncertainty as her smirk wavered for a second. She remained silent, but it was clear that she was tense, as though she could feel the ground beneath her feet changing.

She was not given an opportunity to speak by Margaret. Maybe it is time for Emily, your sister, to play a bigger part in this family. At least she knows how to be respectful and elegant. You seem to have forgotten something.

Isabella's reaction was immediate, and the mention of Emily was like a stab to the heart. Her eyes narrowed, and her lips formed a scowl. "Emily? Do you believe she could take my place? Does she have the potential to replace me within our family? The words came out of her like poison.

Margaret had unwavering eyes. She maintained her poise as she stood tall. Indeed. Even though Emily isn't as famous, she has something that you don't. humility. the capacity to comprehend the significance of this family.

Isabella laughed bitterly, her face contorted. "You're going to give her everything, then? This is a girl who hasn't spent much time in this home. She has no idea what she's doing.

With firmness, Margaret stated, "She is willing to learn." "You can no longer respect this family the way she does." She didn't speak louder, but it was clear that she meant what she was saying. "I'm beginning to question whether I've wasted my time, Isabella, as I thought you'd develop into this role."

The room was silent for what seemed like an age. For the first time, Margaret noticed a glimmer of terror in Isabella's eyes as her rage erupted. She was afraid of losing herself in the process— not of losing the legacy of her family. She had always thought of herself as invincible.

"You're really going to put her in place of me?" Isabella's voice, brimming with emotion, was barely audible beyond a whisper. "Mother, she means nothing to me. I understand you better than she does.

Margaret's will did not waver, but her expression did. Maybe you're correct. She may not fully comprehend me, but she is prepared to make an effort. And that's all I have to say for you at the moment.

Isabella flinched back, her face turning white with anger. Her voice was sharp yet quiet as she turned away. Allow her to engage in her little game. She will never be me, though. She will never be able to compete. Not to this family, not to you.

Margaret stood there, her heart thumping with a mixture of rage and fatigue, as Isabella turned on her heel and ran out of the room without saying another word. The room seemed to close in on her as the weight of her own words pressed down on her. However, something changed within her as she gazed out the window, her gaze tracing Emily's progress in the garden below.

Emily was down there, quietly concentrating on the flowers. Margaret stopped for a moment because of her presence and her composed resolve. She noticed something in Emily for the first time that Isabella had long since given up on. Maybe now was the moment to try this new strategy.

Margaret felt her heart tighten. Making the choice wasn't simple. It would never be. However, when she saw Emily's gentle motions in the garden, she came to the conclusion that perhaps—just possibly—this change was the only viable option.

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