chapter 33: Enemies.

"My apologies," Isabella responded softly, forcing a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

She felt trapped under Evelyn's piercing gaze, her mind racing for an excuse that wouldn't betray her intentions. "I can't say I left something at Christopher's villa... she'll tell him for sure."

She straightened her posture, trying to maintain her composure.

"I guess my ungraciousness was to get ready before he came back," Isabella added, lowering her head in feigned modesty. "After all, once our marriage is settled, I don't want him looking elsewhere."

Her words felt forced, but she hoped they'd play into the image she was trying to project—the dutiful, innocent fiancée.

But internally, Isabella's thoughts swirled with frustration. "Why the hell is she even here?"

Evelyn's smile never faltered, though her eyes sharpened with an edge that made Isabella's skin prickle.

"How thoughtful of you," Evelyn replied, her tone syrupy sweet, but something was chilling in the undercurrent of her voice.

She leaned in slightly, just enough for her whisper to reach Isabella's ears. "But I'm afraid... he might already be occupied."

Isabella's heart dropped, her eyes widening in shock. Evelyn's words were like ice slipping into her veins.

She fought to keep the smirk on her lips, but the tremor of fear in her chest was undeniable. "How does she know?"

Evelyn watched her closely, her smile turning just a bit sharper, more knowing. She had long suspected Isabella's schemes, especially the way she tried to interfere with her and her grandmother, Elizabeth.

Something was gratifying in seeing Isabella rattled, her composure slipping bit by bit.

Sweetheart, you have the wrong prey, Evelyn thought, satisfaction glimmering in her eyes as she savored Isabella's discomfort.

"Anyway, sweetheart, good luck with your goals," Evelyn said, her voice a soft, mocking lilt.

She stepped away with effortless grace, the tension between them almost palpable, crackling in the air like electricity.

Isabella watched her leave, biting down hard on her lip, her fury boiling just beneath the surface.

The rage twisted in her gut, growing with each passing second—Midiana, Evelyn—they're all against me!

Her eyes narrowed into slits as Evelyn's parting words echoed in her mind. Good luck with your goals.

It felt like a taunt, a subtle dig at her ambitions and the fragile hold she had on her position in Christopher's life.

"I'll remember that, Evelyn," Isabella seethed silently, her hands balling into fists at her sides as venom dripped into her heart.

Isabella stormed up to the grand entrance of Christopher's private villa, her heels clicking with purpose against the stone path.

As she reached for the door, a guard stepped forward, blocking her path with a firm hand.

"Stop, ma'am—" he began.

"Get lost!" Isabella snapped, her voice cutting through the air like a whip.

Her eyes glinted with a cold, venomous rage as she glared at him, her sharp gaze enough to make him falter.

"Nor do I need to inform you when I plan to surprise my fiancé with a pleasant night," she added icily, her breath seething with barely concealed venom.

The way she spat the word "fiancé" sent a clear message: she wouldn't be stopped.

The guard, caught off-guard by the sudden outburst, quickly bowed his head in submission.

"My apologies, your grace," he muttered, stepping aside.

He knew better than to cross her, especially when she invoked Christopher's name.

Without another word, Isabella pushed past him, her anger simmering as she ascended the winding staircase.

Her mind raced with thoughts of Midiana—that girl had to be here—and she couldn't wait to get her hands on her.

Each step felt heavier, her pulse quickening as anticipation swirled in her chest.

But when she reached the top and threw open the door to the bedroom, her heart stopped. The room was empty.

Her eyes widened in shock, scanning the neatly made bed and the untouched corners of the room. It was as if no one had been there at all.

"Where is she?" Isabella whispered frantically, her mind spinning as she darted from the bedroom to the bathroom.

The shower was dry, the towels still neatly folded. She moved to the other rooms, throwing open doors, searching, but there was nothing—no trace of Midiana.

A groan of frustration tore from her throat as she threw her hands up in the air. Midiana had slipped away again, evading her grasp just when Isabella thought she had everything planned out.

Just then, a thought struck her, freezing her in place. Her fingers tightened into fists as a slow, burning rage curled up her spine. Evelyn.

Her eyes narrowed into slits as she turned on her heel, venom coursing through her veins. Of course.

Evelyn must have had something to do with this. She always knows too much, always meddling.

"But why protect that little nobody?"

Isabella's lips curled into a snarl, her mind fixating on Evelyn with a newfound fury.

"If Midiana was gone, then Evelyn had surely played a part." Isabella muttered under her breath, venomous determination flooding her chest as she stormed out of the villa.

Her heart pounded with bitter resolve—if Evelyn thought she could undermine her, she was sorely mistaken.

Meanwhile, In her elegantly decorated room, Evelyn leaned back in her plush armchair, a smirk playing on her lips.

Her thoughts danced with satisfaction at the image of Isabella's dismayed expression when she discovered Midiana had slipped away.

"After all, dear Bella," Evelyn mused internally,

"it was all thanks to me that you're now painfully aware of the relationship between my foolish brother and that young daughter of Walker." The faintest of smiles curled her lips as she imagined Isabella's reaction.

Her room, bathed in soft afternoon light, exuded an air of refined tranquility. The maids, heads bowed in respect, moved quietly around her as she settled onto the couch, its cushions a deep, luxurious blue.

Julie, her ever-faithful maid, approached with a porcelain teapot, pouring a steaming cup of tea with practiced elegance. The rich aroma of jasmine filled the air, mingling with the subtle fragrance of fresh roses from a nearby vase.

Evelyn took a delicate sip, savoring the warmth and the calming effect of the tea. Her gaze was distant as she reflected on her recent machinations.

She had orchestrated Isabella's discovery of the relationship between Christopher and Midiana with meticulous care.

She had Julie first whisper hints to one of the kitchen maids, Nia and then ensured that Isabella's loyal maid, Erica, overheard a conversation about the affair while collecting Isabella's breakfast.

"Poor thing," Evelyn sighed softly, her voice almost a whisper as she stared into her tea.

"If only she knew Christopher's infatuation with her was fleeting." Her tone was laced with a tinge of pity and amusement.

She continued to ponder the situation, her thoughts drifting back to the earlier hours. She had instructed one of Christopher's guards to inform Midiana she was free to leave.

Evelyn found herself almost bemused by Christopher's behavior—he tended to grow bored of relationships after a few months, and yet he seemed to be holding onto this one longer than usual.

"I suppose he truly knows what he wants, after all," Evelyn thought, a hint of admiration mixed with her typical shrewdness.

Christopher was unpredictable, always keeping her on edge and requiring constant adjustment of her strategies.

"Midiana Thorne, huh?" Evelyn mused, her eyes narrowing as she studied the delicate swirl of her tea.

Her smile widened slightly, filled with anticipation and a touch of hope.

"To think I still feel this way after all these days," she reflected, feeling a slight tinge of self-criticism due to hope of something she has. The emotion seemed out of character for her, a rare vulnerability in her otherwise calculated demeanor.

Evelyn stared out of the large window in her room, her gaze fixed on the encroaching twilight.

The sky, once a vibrant blue, was now a tapestry of darkening hues, as the first drops of rain began to tap gently against the glass.

Her mind churned with thoughts of her father, a man whose oppressive presence had long shackled her to this estate.

"My initial thought of stepping away from the duke's responsibilities was driven by a desire for vengeance against that bastard of a man," Evelyn seethed internally, her resentment clear as she gazed at the distant horizon.

The estate, sprawling and imposing, seemed to mirror her feelings of confinement and frustration.

She sighed heavily, her breath fogging up the cold windowpane momentarily before she composed herself.

"But until he dies, I'll have to continuously keep my low profile and avoid being seen." The darkness outside deepened, casting long shadows that seemed to echo her sense of entrapment.

Evelyn's eyes shifted toward the distant outline of Midiana's grandmother's cottage.

"That girl's appearance could not be more perfect," she mused, her voice a soft murmur against the backdrop of the rain's steady rhythm.

She moved away from the window, feeling a slight chill from the cool breeze that had drifted into the room.

"There's still hope, Evelyn," she reassured herself, her thoughts shifting to the small, yet significant glimmer of opportunity that now presented itself.