Two days later, Isabella sat in her father's study, the scent of old leather and ink filling the room. Mr. Iyke was busy reviewing documents when she entered, but his stern features softened slightly at the sight of her.
"Father," Isabella greeted warmly, bowing her head before taking a seat.
"What is it, Isa?" Mr. Iyke asked, adjusting his glasses.
"I wanted to speak with you about the Cole partnership," she said evenly.
At once, his expression sharpened. "That is business not meant for you."
"Perhaps," Isabella agreed, lowering her gaze just enough to appear respectful. "But as your daughter, I worry for the family. I've been studying the Cole family's recent investments."
Her father raised an eyebrow. "You've been… studying?"
"Yes." Isabella slid a small folder across the desk — one she had carefully prepared with notes, numbers, and trends she remembered all too well from her previous life. "The Cole Corporation has been funneling funds into unstable overseas ventures. Their debt ratio is climbing, hidden beneath layers of flashy profits. If we bind ourselves to them now, we'll share in their collapse."
Mr. Iyke frowned, flipping through the pages. Each detail was precise, undeniable. His eyes narrowed with the weight of consideration.
"Where did you get this information?" he asked.
"I keep my eyes open, Father," Isabella replied, meeting his gaze with quiet strength. "You taught me never to trust appearances. I only wish to protect our name."
Silence stretched between them before her father finally leaned back in his chair, thoughtful. "You've grown sharper, Isa," he admitted. "Perhaps I should not dismiss your instincts so easily."
A flicker of satisfaction burned in Isabella's chest, though her face remained composed. Good. The first seed is planted.
What Adrian and Clarissa did not know was that their golden opportunity was already crumbling beneath their feet. And Isabella had barely begun.