Chapter 149

Eleanor Langley sat rigidly on the hospital sofa, her impeccable makeup failing to mask the storm brewing beneath.

"Do we even need to investigate who's responsible?" Her laugh was cold. "With Isabella's scandals exposed, it's only natural our partners would withdraw to avoid the fallout."

She crossed her legs gracefully, disappointment flashing in her eyes. Her daughter's stupidity was truly breathtaking—repeating the same mistake twice.

She'd taught Isabella since childhood: either commit fully or don't bother. Clearly, the lesson hadn't stuck.

"That cursed Evelyn is to blame." Vincent Langley's gaze turned glacial. "Should've smothered her at birth."

Eleanor closed her eyes wearily. Time had been kind to her oval face, still strikingly beautiful with meticulous care.

"Go rest," Vincent said gently. "I'll manage here."

Her eyes snapped open. Rising slowly, she commanded, "Make Evelyn issue a public statement. If that car accident gets investigated, Isabella's finished."

"Relax. I've already taken care of it." His tone brimmed with confidence.

She studied him for several seconds before nodding.

"Come home with me." Her voice brooked no argument. "I won't make another hospital trip today."

Vincent smiled. "I have a meeting with Harrison Macmillan. He gave Evelyn three hundred million. We have no choice but to partner with him now."

At this, Eleanor sat back down. "Alexander Durand and Evelyn were close. I suspect she sabotaged your election campaign."

"That backwater brat?" Vincent scoffed. "She's not capable."

A calculating glint entered his eyes. Evelyn's face bore an uncanny resemblance to... someone.

Perhaps she'd prove useful later.

"Find that painting," Eleanor said icily as she stood. "Six months of searching, and all you've accomplished is landing yourself in a hospital bed. Evelyn's digging into the Durand family affairs. She needs to disappear."

Vincent watched his wife leave, his expression darkening.

This past year had been nothing but endless headaches.