Chapter 55 Isabelle's Gamble

• POV: Isabelle
• The lounge reeks of old money and cigar smoke, a place where men like Regan Thompson sprawl on leather chairs and pretend they own the world. I slip into the room, the click of my heels echoing against the marble floor. His eyes track me before I even reach the table, sharp and lazy all at once, like a predator watching prey decide whether to walk into the trap.
• He doesn’t rise. Of course not. Regan never wastes energy on courtesy.