Chapter 1 Outsmarted

The stout, middle-aged man looked at Isabella with concern in his eyes. "Are you feeling under the weather, miss? Why don't you come with me? I have a room where you can rest," he offered kindly.

Isabella's smile, though forced, was enough to distract the well-meaning Mr. White. "Mr. White, look over there!" she exclaimed, pointing to the distance. "Isn't that your wife? You might want to go say hello."

Mr. White, now thrown off-balance, quickly turned to follow Isabella's finger. "Is that...Oh dear," he muttered, his attention fully on the supposed figure of his wife.

Isabella, taking advantage of the opportunity, hurriedly made her way towards the exit, her hand clutched on her stomach.

In the wealthy circle, it was common knowledge that while Mr. White might be a powerful figure outside, his wife was the undisputed queen of their home.

This fact was not lost on Isabella's mother and sister, who had previously tried to win Mrs. White's favor to climb the social ladder. But Isabella was playing her own game. When Mr. White fell for her clever ruse and turned his head, she knew she had scored a crucial point in the game of intrigue.

Isabella turned and ran. After a while, her speed slowed down, and she began to feel increasingly hot, her steps becoming unsteady.

Mr. White was livid at being outsmarted, and he wasted no time in pursuing Isabella, his curses of "despicable woman" echoing in the hallway.

Struggling with dizziness, the world around her began to blur as Isabella stumbled forward. A door appeared in her path, and she rushed through it, slamming it shut behind her.

What she found beyond the door, however, was not the outdoors as she had expected, but a well-appointed guest room. She had unknowingly entered another part of the house, with Mr. White still hot on her heels.

As Isabella stumbled in the guest room, she bumped into a firm chest. Leaning against the sturdy figure, she felt a wave of relief as the coolness seemed to calm her dizziness.

Looking up, she saw a chiseled face with a strong nose, his features becoming fuzzy as her vision blurred. Isabella, now burning with fever, groped blindly at the man's chest, muttering for help.

The stranger's hands caught her as she swooned, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she clung to him for support.

The woman's voice, low and hushed, did not sit well with Vincent. He grabbed her small hand, his annoyance growing as he realized that the men he was conducting business with must have stooped to desperate measures to get what they wanted.

He looked down at the woman in his arms, noticing her exquisite beauty that was not marred by vulgarity. However, there was an unhealthy flush on her face, indicating that she had been drugged.

Vincent's hand slipped from Isabella's as he made a move to distance himself from her. However, his effort proved futile as she continued to reach out, touching him with seemingly uncontrolled abandon, even going so far as to unbutton his shirt.

"Young lady, please," he pleaded in a gruff voice, "I'm only a man, after all. If you keep this up, I can't be held responsible for my actions."

Isabella, still gripped by the effects of the drug, muttered, "So hot...," her words slurred and unclear.

Vincent's resolve was faltering as Isabella continued to stroke his exposed chest, her hands roaming over his hard muscles with a growing intensity. He could feel himself responding to her advances, his body betraying him in the face of her caresses.

Clenching his jaw, Vincent tried to steel himself against the temptation. "Please," he begged, his voice low and strained, "you don't know what you're doing. You must stop this."

But Isabella, lost in the haze of the drug and her own desire, ignored his pleas, pressing herself against him.

As Vincent's desire took hold, he swiftly swept Isabella off her feet, gently laying her on the bed. His hands worked quickly, untying his tie with fervor as he struggled to contain his longing.

Each movement exposed more of their skin to the chilly air, but their bodies radiated heat that mingled, creating an intoxicating contrast. Isabella, her senses heightened by the drug and her own arousal, was overcome by the dual sensations of cold and warmth.

Vincent's hands moved to the hem of her clothing, sliding it upwards, revealing her smooth skin and the curves of her body.

As the room filled with Isabella's soft, sensual moans, Vincent's pleasure grew. His hands and mouth worked her body with increasing intensity, his movements becoming more urgent.

Isabella's breath quickened, her moans rising in volume as she was brought closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. Her body tensed, then shuddered, surrendering to the intense waves of pleasure that washed over her.

Vincent followed her over the edge, his own release a momentary reprieve from the storm that had been building within him.

After being satisfied, Isabella lay weakly on the bed, her snow-white chest heaving violently.

The dim light flickered in Isabella's eyes indicating the breaking of a new day.

The temperature kept rising, the ambiguous scent becoming stronger...

Sitting in the taxi, Isabella was still shocked. She was still in pain but had woken up to find just herself on the bed.

Given her condition, she definitely couldn't take the bus. She gritted her teeth and hailed a taxi.

The car stopped at the entrance of an old apartment building. Isabella lived on the third floor of this building, which had no elevator. She could only climb up step by step, stopping every few steps.

As soon as she opened the door, she was almost exhausted. Isabella couldn't help cursing the man from last night in her heart.

As soon as she entered, her agent Audrey called. Isabella took out her phone and answered, hearing Audrey's excited voice from the receiver.

"Isabella, where are you now? A director contacted us about a script, saying you're perfect for this role. I've carefully read the script, and it's not bad. It's for a supporting female role. If it's possible, I'll arrange it for you?"

Without hearing Isabella's response, Audrey raised her voice, "Isabella, are you listening to me? This production is really good. Although it's a supporting role, the character is well-rounded. If you perform well, you'll definitely get promoted. I'll send you the script later, so prepare well!"

It took Isabella a few seconds to come back to her senses. She replied to Audrey, "Audrey, you handle it. I trust you."

As soon as the call was hung up, another call came in.

The caller ID showed "Mom". Isabella sneered and threw the phone aside, but the person on the other end apparently didn't want to let her go, and the phone rang several times in a row.

Isabella picked up her phone again, and a barrage of curses followed.

"You shameless thing, Mr. White's wife even called the house. Come back immediately and see what you've done!" Without waiting for Isabella to respond, she hung up.

Isabella quickly changed her clothes, covering the marks on her neck, and hurried to the Casey family.

As the door to the house opened, Isabella was met with the sight of her sister, Angelie, standing in the foyer. Angelie's expression was a mask of feigned concern, but her eyes betrayed her true feelings as they gleamed with derision.

"There you are, Isabella," she said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. "Mother is furious with you, and you'd better hurry in and make your peace with her before she becomes even more angry. Don't make a scene, or you'll only make things worse for yourself."

Mary, Isabella's mother, was livid when she spotted her daughter walking through the door. In her rage, she hurled her phone at Isabella, hurling insults.

"Just look at what you've done," Mary seethed, her voice rising to a shout. "How dare you show your face after what you've done? You've brought shame on the Casey family name. Mr. White's wife has even contacted us about your disgraceful behavior!"

Isabella's heart sank as she bent down to pick up her mother's phone. As she straightened up, she caught sight of the top trending search on the screen: "Entertainment Circle Female Star Suspected of Using Sleeping Around to Advance."

As Isabella's eyes traveled over the image on the phone screen, she saw a fuzzy, provocative picture that seemed to capture the moment just before an intimate act was to occur. A man's hand was reaching towards her, their bodies close and suggestive, leaving no doubt in the viewer's mind about what was about to happen.

But instead of cowering in shame, Isabella found herself bursting into laughter.

"What's the big deal?" she said, her voice filled with defiance as she met her mother's gaze.

Isabella took a step towards her mother, the laughter fading from her face as she spoke with a cold, calculated tone. "If you're going to yell at someone, yell at the person who told me to go to that event. And who told me it was just a business meeting?"

Mary shot back, her tone defensive as she attempted to shift the blame onto her daughter. "I trusted you to make a deal with Mr. White, but you took it too far. I told you to negotiate, not to throw yourself at him like some cheap streetwalker!" she seethed, her nostrils flaring.And don't try to deny it," Isabella added, her voice rising in volume as her anger grew. "You're the one who told me to go to that event, knowing full well what Mr. White is like. You must have known he would try something like this. You set me up."

Angelie jumped into the fray, her expression contorted in faux concern as she defended their mother's actions. "Isabella, how could you speak to our mother that way? Apologize to her immediately," she chastised, her voice laced with false innocence.

"After all, Mother is only trying to help you. And what are you going to do when Timothy finds out about what happened with Mr. White? Our family's reputation will be ruined!" Angelie exclaimed, casting a sideways glance at their mother as if to gauge her reaction.

Isabella couldn't help but let a small, mocking smile cross her face as she regarded her sister's performative act of sympathy.

"Stop this charade," she said, her voice cutting through the tension in the room like a knife. "The only reason you're doing any of this is so you can have Timothy to yourself. Well, he's all yours. Why bother with this whole song and dance? As far as you're concerned, I slept with someone else. You can take my place as Mrs. Newhouse, the sole heiress to the Casey family's wealth and prestige."

The words from Isabella's mouth were like a bolt of lightning in the room, striking at the heart of Timothy who was standing just outside the door, eavesdropping on the conversation.

Timothy's expression darkened in an instant, his jaw clenching tightly as he processed the insult that had been hurled at him. As the newly appointed head of the Newhouse family, he had never been spoken to in such a manner, let alone by someone he considered to be beneath him.

"Who does she think she is?" he seethed, his thoughts a storm of anger and indignation.