Chapter 415

Zachary Evans stared at the video on his computer screen, his brow furrowed. He replayed the footage of Ethan Roscente sitting alone in his office, gazing at a photo of Sophia Lowell. The man’s usually cold profile looked uncharacteristically soft in the glow of the monitor.

"If I don’t send this, it’s a crime against nature," he muttered to himself.

His finger hovered over the send button before he finally pressed it. The video zipped into Sophia’s inbox like a digital grenade.

"Boss, your mouth is tighter than a vault," Zachary sighed, shaking his head. "Guess I’m not just your assistant—I’m your damn Cupid now."

The office clock struck six. His phone remained silent. Zachary drummed his fingers on the desk, nerves coiling in his gut.

Buzz.

He snatched up his phone—only to see a message from the informant tailing Isabella Valentine.

"What? Isabella got into a car accident?" Zachary shot to his feet, papers scattering everywhere.

He bolted for Ethan’s office and nearly collided with the man as he strode out. Ethan’s face was stormy, his phone pressed to his ear. Mr. Roscente Sr.’s frantic voice crackled through.

"Meet me at the hospital," Ethan clipped before hanging up and marching toward the elevator.

Zachary scrambled after him, muttering, "Isabella’s playing dirty—street racing right before the wedding?"

Meanwhile, in Sophia’s apartment.

Her long-dead phone blinked to life, flooding with notifications. She absently scrolled until Zachary’s video caught her eye.

Just as she reached for it, Emily Laurent’s call hijacked the screen.

"You brat! Was your phone broken for a week?" Emily’s voice blasted through the speaker, forcing Sophia to hold the phone away.

"Aunt Emily, I—"

"Listen first!" Emily crowed. "Isabella Valentine crashed her car! The wedding’s postponed! Ha!"

Sophia’s finger froze mid-air. "What?"

"The idiot was street racing and rear-ended someone. Broke her damn leg!" Emily gloated. "It’s all over the news. How’d you miss it?"

Sophia turned to the window. The sunset bled crimson across the clouds. Ethan’s words echoed in her mind: The wedding won’t happen. Her pulse spiked.

The video from Zachary still glowed on her screen—a silent bomb waiting to detonate.