My Soul card is a Reaper

Enric Garcia's brain went completely blank.

Two huge words exploded in his mind.

It's over.

He didn't dare throw her away.

But he couldn't push her off either, because both of his hands were busy holding her.

In that instant, everything clicked into place.

Pregnancy.

Abortion medicine.

Stomach pain.

All lies.

This woman had planned this from the beginning.

Damn it!

These two people were terrifying enough on their own—

And now he was stuck between them.

Especially Isabella Cruz.

If he tried to explain now…

Would Victor Steele even believe him?

Meanwhile, Victor Steele hadn't moved at all.

He stood there like a mountain, completely still.

But the coldness in his eyes could freeze steel.

He watched the two people locked together in silence.

And Isabella Cruz…

Acted as if he didn't exist.

She even opened her mouth slightly and playfully bit his cheek.

When she finally turned her head, a faint smile curved at the corner of her lips.

Her bright eyes met Victor Steele's gaze directly.

The provocation in them was unmistakable.

For a moment, the atmosphere became strangely quiet.

Victor Steele looked at her.

Then he spoke calmly.

"Isabella Cruz. Come here."

His voice wasn't loud.

It didn't sound threatening either.

But for some reason, the moment Isabella Cruz heard it, her heart trembled slightly.

For a split second, she almost obeyed.

Her eyes flickered.

Then she deliberately turned her head away.

The memory of the news headlines she had read earlier flashed through her mind.

Her expression cooled immediately.

She raised her eyebrows slightly and looked at him lazily.

"If CEO Steele has something to say," she said lightly, "why don't you come here yourself?"

"Can't you see that I'm… a little busy right now?"

Her tone was playful.

But the meaning was unmistakably ambiguous.

Victor Steele didn't move.

But Enric Garcia was already on the verge of tears.

"My great grandmother… I'm begging you!" he whispered desperately. "Can you come down now? I swear I didn't harm you! Do you really have to make us brothers kill each other like this?"

"MISS CRUZ, you can't do this!"

Isabella Cruz glanced at him sideways, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Then she leaned closer and spoke softly beside his ear.

"Mr. Garcia…"

"I dare bet that if you keep holding me, Victor Steele won't do anything to you."

"But if you put me down now…"

Her smile deepened slightly.

"You know how good my acting skills are."

"Think carefully about what I might say about the non-existent last night and what might happen next."

Her voice was gentle.

But the threat in it was unmistakable.

Enric Garcia felt like crying.

He suddenly realized something.

Between the two monsters standing in front of him—

There was no safe side to choose.

Mr. Garcia truly felt like crying this time.

In his mind, he could already see the future clearly. First, he would be beaten to death by Victor Steele, and then his corpse would be thrown into the Sea to destroy the evidence.

But just at that moment, Victor Steele suddenly called out in a calm voice.

"Third Brother."

That gentle tone almost scared Enric Garcia's soul out of his body.

He tightened his hold on Isabella Cruz and responded hurriedly.

"Yes—Second Brother?"

Victor Steele spoke casually, as if discussing the weather.

"Throw the brainless woman in your arms onto the ground."

…

Holy hell.

What kind of situation was this?!

Enric Garcia nearly screamed for his mother.

In his entire life, the worst sin he had committed was simply liking beautiful women a little too much. At most, he was a little more flirtatious than ordinary people.

But Heaven didn't need to punish him this cruelly, right?

If these two people wanted to fight, they could just fight!

Why did he have to be the cannon fodder caught between them?

Isabella Cruz tightened her grip on his arm. The warning in her eyes was obvious.

If you dare throw me, I'll kiss you again.

Behind him, Victor Steele stood quietly.

"Third Brother," he said calmly, "don't worry. Just throw her down. If she ends up disabled, I'll take responsibility."

…

Disabled.

The moment she heard that word, Isabella Cruz exploded.

"Victor Steele, stop pretending to be a gentleman after taking advantage of me!" she snapped. "Who asked you to take responsibility?!"

Victor Steele raised an eyebrow.

The corner of his lips lifted slightly, and his tone sounded almost gentle.

"Isabella, if I don't take responsibility… who will?"

"There are plenty of men in this world who can take responsibility," she shot back coldly. "Why should I let you get away with it so easily?"

"Isabella," Victor Steele said calmly, "don't forget the agreement between us."

If he hadn't mentioned that agreement, Isabella Cruz might have been able to endure.

But the moment he brought it up, the anger in her chest surged even higher.

She paused for a moment.

Then suddenly smiled.

"Yes… speaking of that agreement, we really do have one."

She tilted her head slightly, her smile elegant and distant.

"So tell me, CEO Steele… if I take that agreement to court, how much compensation do you think I could get?"

"It doesn't matter. I, Isabella Cruz, may be a little short on money, but I'm not so desperate that I have to cling to a big tree like you."

"As long as you pay enough, we can part peacefully."

"I promise I won't delay you national couple from getting married as soon as possible."

Her smile was perfect.

Polite.

Flawless.

It was the exact same smile the "First Socialite" wore in front of the cameras.

Like a beautiful mask made of human skin.

Victor Steele's gaze darkened slightly.

But he said nothing.

He didn't explain.

Isabella Cruz had already expected that response.

Even though her chest tightened painfully, she continued smiling.

"CEO Steele, you really don't need to worry," she said lightly. "Look, I found a spare tire so quickly."

"Even without you, I can live perfectly well."

Victor Steele suddenly laughed softly. But there was obvious displeasure hidden in that smile.

"You seem very confident," he said slowly.

His eyes shifted briefly toward Enric Garcia before returning to Isabella Cruz. "You probably don't know this yet. Enric Garcia's goddess isn't you. His goddess is the national goddess."

"If there really is a 'national couple,' the male lead definitely isn't me."

He paused.

Then his voice cooled.

"If you still want to throw a tantrum, come home with me."

"And you—Enric Garcia."

His gaze turned icy.

"Are you deaf, or do you not understand what I said?"

The moment Enric Garcia heard that tone, his brain shut down completely.

Without thinking—

He let go.

Isabella Cruz was instantly thrown from his arms.

She landed on the ground with a heavy thump.

Fortunately her backside hit the ground first. Although it hurt badly, it didn't seem like anything serious.

"Kya..."

Isabella Cruz wanted to glare viciously at Enric Garcia.

But the moment she lifted her head...

That coward had already vanished.

No shadow. No trace. As if he had evaporated into thin air.

And standing above her now…

Was another face.

Sharp. Calm. Infuriatingly handsome.

Victor Steele.

He stood there looking down at her for a moment, then naturally extended his hand.

Isabella Cruz saw it.

And deliberately turned her head away, pretending she hadn't.

Victor Steele didn't react.

His expression remained perfectly calm.

"If you want to keep sitting here on the floor of a public airport with no regard for your image," he said lightly, "I won't stop you."

He paused.

"But Sienna Vale will probably come out from another exit soon. When she does, reporters will definitely follow her."

His tone remained lazy.

"When that happens… are you sure you want them to see you like this?"

Before he could finish speaking...

Isabella Cruz grabbed his hand and jumped up immediately.

Once she stood steady, she quickly smoothed her clothes and fixed her hair.

After all, she was still the Number One Socialite of Averton.

If someone took an ugly photo and posted it online, she would still have to face the world as a woman. Her beauty still mattered, alright?

She looked around nervously.

"Where are the reporters?"

"Where?"

Victor Steele narrowed his eyes slightly.

Watching her flustered expression, a faint smile suddenly appeared in his eyes.

Without warning, he pulled her into his arms.

Isabella Cruz froze.

Victor Steele lowered his head slightly, breathing in the familiar fragrance of her hair.

The scent was exactly the same as he remembered.

His lips curved faintly.

His mood improved instantly.

Then he spoke slowly.

"I said they'll come out later."

"It might be after we leave."

"Or maybe long after we've already gone."

Isabella Cruz stared blankly for a moment.

Then realization hit.

Her face turned bright red.

"You—!"

She tried to push him away.

But Victor Steele was much taller than her, and his arms held her firmly in place. After struggling several times, she still couldn't break free.

In the end, she gave up.

She simply let him hold her.

A moment later, she heard his voice rumbling softly against her hair.