My Soul card is a Reaper

Hector Raven smiled faintly.

"If you don't want to learn painting from Mr. Jason Smith anymore," he said calmly, "then of course you can refuse."

Bastard.

He actually dared to threaten her with Master Jason Smith.

Isabella Cruz clenched her teeth so hard her jaw ached.

But in the end, her desire to study under Jason Smith easily crushed the anger in her chest.

She stared at him and finally compromised.

"I'm not interested in sitting in the same car with you and chatting," she said coldly. "If you have something to say, say it here. Once you're finished, stop blocking my way."

Hector Raven looked at her quietly.

Sometimes, he truly admired this little woman's presence.

Even now, after losing almost everything and being surrounded by endless scandals, she still carried a kind of pride and confidence that most people would have long abandoned.

It was the aura of someone who had once believed firmly in herself.

And who refused to let that belief die.

Perhaps that was why he found her so fascinating.

Because the moment his own mother abandoned him, his confidence had disappeared.

Even though he now possessed wealth, power, and influence…

His heart still felt empty.

Hector Raven narrowed his eyes slightly, looking at her as though staring into sunlight.

His expression softened.

"Alright."

He agreed.

Isabella Cruz had not expected that he would actually keep silent about her true identity.

Especially in front of Miss Penelope and Master Jason Smith.

To be honest, although she had been extremely happy earlier, this was the thing that had worried her the most.

And she still couldn't understand one thing.

Why would Hector Raven help her?

The two of them barely knew each other.

They had nothing worth discussing.

Just as she was thinking about it, her phone vibrated.

It was a message from Emily Carter.

Emily: I can't hold Enric Garcia back anymore! Get ready and hide quickly!

Isabella Cruz's heart skipped.

She immediately ended the conversation with Hector Raven, gave him a brief goodbye, and quickly slipped into a nearby coffee shop.

Who was Enric Garcia?

If that man sensed something was wrong, even digging through the entire city of Averton wouldn't stop him from finding her.

So she would rather hide here for two hours and let time pass.

By then, she could calmly return to the Hilton with the group of "bodyguards" he had stationed around her.

The café smelled strongly of roasted coffee beans.

She sat by the window, ordered a drink, and took out her phone to pass the time browsing the news.

But the moment she opened the headlines...

Her entire body froze.

"Steele Group Chairman Victor Steele Appears at Milan Malpensa Airport. Beautiful Woman Seen in His Arms."

The headline continued.

"According to photos taken on site, the woman is highly suspected to be the national goddess Sienna Vale. Three days ago, Sienna Vale was seriously injured, and rumors that Victor Steele rushed to Milan immediately have now been confirmed."

Another headline followed.

"First Socialite Rumored to Be in New Relationship With Her Boyfriend. Two-Timing or Moving On?"

"The first socialite remains silent. Sources claim she has returned to Averton while her rival avoids the spotlight. Was the shocking citywide love announcement nothing more than a joke?"

Another article:

"Witnesses claim the first socialite was seen drinking alone in a café to drown her sorrows. Breakup rumors confirmed? CEO Steele is reportedly spending nights partying with his new lover."

And another.

"CEO Steele, who rarely appears in entertainment news, has recently dominated headlines. Is this deliberate publicity or a coincidence?"

The feed continued scrolling.

One article even wrote:

"International plastic surgery experts were invited to evaluate CEO Victor Steele's appearance. The surprising result: completely natural beauty."

"Many netizens commented that the only person worthy of the naturally beautiful national goddess Sienna Vale is none other than CEO Steele himself. Over 80% of netizens support this 'national couple' and are already calling for their wedding."

Below the article were countless comments.

One of them read:

"Looks like someone's going to scold Victor again. My Victor is just a black-bellied, arrogant man. Sometimes he deliberately teases Isabella to make her jealous. Don't take it too seriously."

Isabella Cruz stared at the screen.

For a long time, she didn't move.

She kept scrolling.

Her fingers moved slowly across the screen as she read every word, every comment, every ridiculous speculation the media had written.

Article after article.

Photo after photo.

Without realizing it, two full hours passed.

When Enric Garcia finally burst into the coffee shop, he was practically out of breath from running.

He scanned the room frantically.

And then he saw her.

Isabella Cruz was sitting quietly by the window, staring at her phone with complete concentration.

From a distance, she looked almost calm.

Almost foolishly calm.

Enric Garcia's anger exploded instantly.

He rushed over, ready to complain about the nightmare he had just endured chasing her all over the city.

But the moment he glanced at her screen...

He saw the photo.

Victor Steele.

And Sienna Vale.

His face changed immediately.

"F*ck!" he blurted out. "Second Brother is unbelievable! He promised he wouldn't touch my goddess, and now he actually took her away?"

He slapped the table in indignation.

"This is injustice! My goddess is so beautiful, how could she fall for that stone-faced tyrant?"

A sudden chill spread through the air beside him.

Enric Garcia shivered instinctively.

He slowly turned his head.

And met Isabella Cruz's eyes.

Her expression hadn't changed.

Her posture was still relaxed.

But those eyes… Cold enough to make his scalp go numb.

For a moment, Enric Garcia felt a terrifying sense of familiarity.

It was the exact same pressure he felt whenever Victor Steele looked at him like that.

His heart skipped.

Did he just step into a disaster without realizing it?

He quickly opened his mouth, intending to explain himself before things got worse.

But Isabella Cruz had already locked her phone screen.

She stood up calmly.

Without looking at him again, she walked gracefully toward the door.

Enric Garcia didn't even dare breathe loudly.

He followed behind her like a guilty servant.

Just as they passed the bar counter, Isabella Cruz suddenly stopped.

She leaned slightly toward the waiter and said something softly.

The waiter nodded politely and asked her to wait.

A moment later...

The waiter returned with a bottle of deep burgundy red wine.

Enric Garcia's eyes widened.

Burgundy.

And judging by the label...

At least a 1995 vintage.

It was probably the most expensive bottle in the entire café.

His brain stalled.

Why did this great-aunt want wine in a coffee shop?

Before he could figure it out...

Isabella Cruz suddenly turned around.

She looked straight at him.

Her eyes were still cold.

But now there was a faint smile on her lips.

Unfortunately...

That smile made Enric Garcia feel even more uneasy.

A terrible premonition surged through his body.

Three seconds later...

Isabella Cruz lifted the bottle high above her head.

And in that instant...

Enric Garcia understood everything.

"WAIT—!"

He lunged forward.

Too late.

The expensive bottle of Burgundy flew from her slender hand.

CRASH.

Glass shattered across the floor.

Dark red wine spread like blood across the marble tiles.

Enric Garcia's heart shattered along with it.

Money wasn't the problem.

But as a wine enthusiast...

Watching such a bottle die in front of his eyes was pure torture.

Before he could even mourn properly...

Isabella Cruz spoke calmly."Waiter," she said lightly, "please remember to charge that bottle and my entire bill this afternoon to Mr. Garcia."

She glanced toward him politely.

"Thank you."

Enric Garcia nearly collapsed.

What kind of karmic disaster had he committed in his past life?

How had he ended up trapped between these two monsters?

—

On the way back to the Hilton apartment, the car ride was painfully silent.

Isabella Cruz sat quietly by the window.

Her mood was clearly terrible.

And Enric Garcia...

Well.

He was still grieving for the murdered Burgundy.

The silence stretched for several blocks before he finally snapped.

Unable to hold it in any longer, he pulled out his phone and began typing furiously.

Then he sent a desperate message to the group chat.

"Big Brother! Fourth Brother! Fifth Brother!"

"MAYDAY!"

"Second Brother is abusing the labor force of the people!"

"I can't take this anymore!"

"I demand liberation!!!"

When Enric Garcia's WhatsApp message arrived, Victor Steele was already on the private plane flying from Milan back to Averton.

His aircraft was specially customized.

The space he was in was his private bedroom suite, with a soft reclining bed, a leather sofa area, and a small bar filled with wine and various entertainment equipment. The steady hum of the engines vibrated faintly through the cabin walls, making the quiet interior feel even more secluded.

At the airport earlier, Victor Steele had already noticed reporters waiting nearby.

Originally, he thought it was enough that the media had captured a few photos of him and Sienna Vale appearing at the airport together. That alone would satisfy their curiosity.

But when they were passing through security, Sienna Vale's high heel suddenly snapped.