Chapter 9 Framed
Grace hit the ground, clutching her wrist and looking all innocent, tears welling up in her eyes like she was seriously hurt. She glanced up at Isabella, her voice shaky. "Why'd you push me, Olivia?"
A crowd started to gather, everyone looking confused. Isabella was floored, anger bubbling up inside her. She hadn't even touched Grace, yet she was being blamed. "I didn't push you!" Isabella shot back, secretly fuming at Grace's audacity.
Then, a lightbulb went off in Isabella's head. She quickly pulled up the hospital corridor's surveillance footage, which clearly showed Grace tripping and falling all on her own.
"Check this out!" Isabella held up her phone, showing the video to Grace and Zoey from a distance, clearly capturing Grace's self-inflicted tumble.
Grace's face went ghostly pale, her fake innocence vanishing in an instant.
"Still wanna argue, Grace?" Isabella asked coldly, a smirk playing on her lips.
"I..." Grace stuttered, panic written all over her face. Under Michael's watchful eyes, she finally admitted, "I tripped on my own. It wasn't Isabella's fault."
Michael, who had seen the whole thing, felt his disappointment in Grace deepen. He had thought she was sweet and kind, but her actions were a real eye-opener.
To reclaim a bit of dignity, Grace forced a cold smile and snapped, "If she hadn't dodged, I wouldn't have fallen! She did it on purpose! My heirloom bracelet from my grandmother is broken because of her! Ms. Smith, I know you're mad about your divorce from Michael, but don't take it out on me. Is it my fault you two split up?" Grace's tone was dripping with sarcasm, clearly trying to provoke.
Isabella was momentarily taken aback, anger flaring up inside her. Grace's words were like a dagger to her heart. Michael's face darkened too, clearly fed up with Grace's attitude.
"Grace, that's enough!" Michael snapped, his voice tinged with anger.
Isabella smirked. So Michael could get mad at Grace too; she had thought he would always coddle her.
Not wanting to be slandered, Isabella picked up the broken bracelet pieces from the ground, held them up to the light, then disdainfully handed them to Zoey and wiped her hands, like she had touched something gross.
Zoey asked, "What do you mean?"
Isabella replied, "Just suggesting you get your jewelry authenticated next time. Wearing fakes isn't a good look."
With a cold sneer, Isabella turned to leave. Then she came back, patted David on the shoulder, and said, "David, remind Mr. Johnson to buy better jewelry for his mistress next time. Don't let her wear cheap stuff, it's embarrassing! I have some decent jewelry at the Johnson Manor, give them to Grace. Got it?"
"Got it, Mrs. Johnson!" David responded automatically, then quickly covered his mouth, silently regretting his slip-up.
Grace was fuming, glaring daggers at David and Isabella as they walked away. 'Olivia, just wait. One day, I'll get you!' she thought bitterly.
Isabella couldn't care less about Grace's anger. She felt a wave of relief wash over her as she left the hospital, almost laughing at how embarrassed Grace had been. She was making her way out of the building when she heard hurried footsteps behind her.
"Olivia, wait!" Michael called out, chasing after her. He had questions—why had she hidden her identity? Who was she really?
Isabella gripped her car keys, trying to stay calm. She jumped into her new sports car, the engine's roar breaking the silence and soothing her nerves.
Michael's anxiety spiked. Seeing her about to leave, he quickened his pace. Just as he was about to reach her, Isabella floored the gas, speeding away and kicking up a cloud of dust.
"Olivia!" Michael shouted, quickly instructing David to drive.
The scenery blurred as the two cars raced. David gritted his teeth, focusing on the sports car ahead, pushing their car to its limits, the tires screeching against the road.
Isabella glanced in the rearview mirror, seeing Michael closely following. She felt a mix of emotions but mostly disdain. She knew running wouldn't solve anything, but she didn't want to talk to Michael.
Should she tell Michael that thirteen years ago, in that terrifying darkness and rain, eleven-year-old Isabella had remembered his deep eyes? Should she tell him that he had saved her life, and without him, she wouldn't be alive today? No, she would never say any of that.
'Sure enough, men are indeed despicable. When you care for them wholeheartedly, all you get is their disdain; but when you ignore them, they come to please you.' Isabella sneered, glancing at the rearview mirror.
Michael, sitting in the passenger seat, was anxious, gripping the handle tightly. He turned to David, his tone firm. "Speed up, catch her!" But Isabella's car was incredibly fast, disappearing around a corner in an instant, leaving David frustrated.
"I can't catch up with her even at full speed!" David shook his head helplessly. Despite his good driving skills, the power and speed of the sports car were unmatched by their regular car.
"Keep chasing!" Michael's eyes were fixed ahead.
David took a deep breath, floored the gas pedal, and the car sped through the dark night, trying to catch up with Isabella. But no matter how hard he tried, it seemed impossible to close the gap with that agile shadow.
In no time, Isabella's sports car disappeared into the distance, turning into a secluded alley, while Michael's anxiety and anger grew stronger. Finally, as Isabella's car faded from view, a burning sense of frustration and anger ignited within him.
"I can't believe she just got away like that!" His voice erupted, tinged with helplessness and frustration. He was determined not to give up, to find Isabella and uncover her secrets.