Right after that, she flung her hand out and barked at the servants nearby, voice sharp and aggressive.

"You three, grab the kid! Take her to the hospital right now! Don't let this woman drag things down any longer!"

The servants exchanged uneasy glances, visibly hesitant.

"What, even my word doesn't count now?"

That one roar had them frozen on the spot. With no other choice, they moved forward stiffly.

They reached for Olivia, prying her from Isabelle's arms.

Already weak from her illness, Olivia immediately burst into tears, clearly terrified. Her tiny hands flailed in the air as she screamed at the top of her lungs,

"Mommy! Mommy!"

Isabelle fought back, trying desperately to hold onto her daughter, but the servants restrained her tightly.

Her nails dug into their arms, scratching hard enough to draw blood.

"You can't take my baby! Give her back! Please, give her back!"

Her voice had gone hoarse from crying, sounding like it could break any second.

Old Mrs. Hart stood on the side, watching coldly, unmoved by the scene.

"Listen well, Isabelle. From now on, don't set foot in this house again. Pull another stunt, and don't blame me for what comes next!"

With those words, she turned on her heel, ready to leave.

No way she's letting this vixen come in here and ruin Stella and Charles.

Still crying, Isabelle looked around frantically, hoping she'd see Charles appear. But he was nowhere to be found.

Instead, someone else came down the stairs.

Catching sight of movement, Isabelle's eyes lit up for a second-then immediately darkened once she realized who it was.

It wasn't Charles. It was the one person she didn't want to see: Stella.

Stella walked down gracefully, every step measured.

"Isabelle, seriously, save the act. Go home, stop embarrassing yourself."

Isabelle clenched her jaw as those words landed, her expression stiffening. But she quickly put on a soft, pitiful look.

Lifting her tear-soaked gaze, her voice trembled slightly.

"Stella, I'm not trying to steal Charles, really. I'm just... Olivia's sick. I need to get her treated, that's all. Please, just let Charles come see her. She needs her dad."

As she spoke, she suddenly swayed, then collapsed onto the ground with a thud, pretending to have fainted.

Stella watched from a few steps away, lips curling into a sneer.

She dusted off her hands-unnecessarily-then turned to walk inside the villa.

Inside, Old Mrs. Hart was still trying to convince Charles to stay for Stella.

But let's face it-someone who wants to leave can't be forced to stay.

Stella didn't hold back and cut into the conversation.

"Grandma, if he wants to go, let him. I really don't care anymore."

That line made Charles knit his brows in frustration.

Earlier, his grandmother had warned him-if he left now, he needn't call her grandma again.He had already decided not to go, but Stella's snide remarks lit a fire in him again.

He shot up from his seat, a cold laugh on his lips. "Alright, since you're putting it that way, I'll go!"

Old Mrs. Hart's face turned stormy. "Charles, don't you dare!"

"Someone, hold this unfilial brat down and teach him a lesson with the family rules!"

Charles clenched his jaw, then dropped to his knees without resistance. His fists curled tight, veins bulging on his forehead.

Seeing his miserable state, Old Mrs. Hart's anger eased a bit.

She gave a wave. "Bring me the whip. He needs to learn his place today!"

A servant quickly came forward holding the whip. Charles closed his eyes, letting each lash land, steady and silent.

Through it all, his head replayed Stella's words-"Go if you want. I don't care."

He scoffed to himself. That weird hollow feeling creeped in again.

He didn't quite understand it, but his chest ached-more than ever. Still, he shoved the feeling aside.

Was this woman really planning to divorce him?

Just then, a servant rushed in, panicked and unsure.

"Sir! It's Miss Isabelle-she fainted at the front gate! Madame Stella said something in front of her... about you and her being together. She couldn't take it!"

Clearly, the servant was siding with Isabelle, exaggerating a little.

Truth was, it was Isabelle who passed out on her own.

But when Charles heard it, his lips curled into a slow, mocking smile.

Typical. That woman still had feelings for him.

All that talk about divorce? Jealousy, nothing more. Just another one of her tired little games.

A nearby maid cast him a startled glance, brows knitting in silent disapproval. She looked like she wanted to speak-but thought better of it.

The smile didn't stay long. It faltered, then vanished.

A shadow passed over his face. His jaw tightened.

And just like that, the smugness drained away, replaced by something far grimmer.

Stella... how could she be so cruel? All just to crush Isabelle?

He sprang to his feet, turning toward the entrance, ready to go check on Isabelle.

"Charles, if you dare leave, I'll bring out the whip again!" Old Mrs. Hart snapped.

"Grandma, Isabelle fainted at the door. For the sake of our family's dignity, we can't just-"

"Hmph, so what? That's her own problem!"

Old Mrs. Hart's tone was ice cold.

"If you still acknowledge me as your grandmother, you'll sit right back down. Do you even see me as family anymore? All over that woman-you ignore everything else, even the rules of this house!"

While they argued, Isabelle stumbled into the room, pale and trembling.

Her voice broke with tears. "Charles, it's Olivia-she's burning with fever. They took her away. Please, help her..."

"Grandma, where's Olivia? What did you do with her?"

Charles's face changed instantly. When it came to his daughter, he couldn't keep calm.

Old Mrs. Hart just scoffed at his question, her face full of disdain.

"She's sick, so I obviously took her to the hospital. What do you think, that I'd hurt her?"

Her tone turned flat, but a sarcastic arch of the brow followed.

"Unlike that woman-came into our house, made a scene, made us look like fools. And barged in uninvited! Isabelle, you are not welcome here. If you don't leave, don't blame me for going old-school and enforcing family rules!"

Isabelle stared at Charles, who was kneeling on the floor, his clothes torn and marked with whip lashes.

Despite the scene, a flash of satisfaction crossed her eyes.

He must've taken the punishment for her.

Ignoring the threat from Old Mrs. Hart, her voice trembled with restrained sobs.

"Charles, you... you did this for me..."

Clenching his jaw to mask the pain, Charles lowered his voice.

"Don't worry about me. You should go."

But Isabelle shook her head firmly.

"No, Charles... wherever Olivia is, that's where I have to be. She's my daughter. I won't leave her alone."

Old Mrs. Hart had seen her fair share of clingy women-this one was just another drama queen.

Refusing to walk away? Easy fix.

She slammed her hand on the table. "Someone come! Take her away-and give her a beating she won't forget!"

The servants rushed in, not daring to hesitate.

Isabelle's eyes went wide, and her knees nearly buckled from fear.

Still, she gritted her teeth, forcing herself to stay put.

"Old Mrs. Hart, you can do whatever you want to me. But please... give me back Olivia."

Old Mrs. Hart frowned, waved her hand with annoyance.

What followed was brutal. Isabelle trembled with every whip, cold sweat soaking her.

Still, she stayed quiet, refusing to beg for mercy.

After the servants were done, she lay motionless, clothes stained red, looking like she could barely breathe.

Her hair stuck to her face, her whole body a mess.

Without a hint of sympathy, the staff dragged her out of the Hart mansion and dumped her by the entrance before going back inside.

Charles didn't say a word-saying anything now would only piss his grandmother off more.

"Grandma, I want to see Olivia," he said carefully.

Seeing that Charles hadn't defended Isabelle during the punishment, Old Mrs. Hart relaxed a little.

"Fine. Go. But if I catch you meeting with that woman, you'll regret it."

...

When Charles got to the hospital and walked into the room, he froze.

Stella was sitting next to Olivia's bed, chatting casually.

The little girl giggled, clearly comfortable around her.

Charles narrowed his eyes. He didn't buy it for a second.

This woman had tried to hurt Olivia before-there's no way she just came to visit out of the kindness of her heart.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was sharp, icy.

Stella glanced at him, her tone calm.

"Grandma asked me to check up on her. Her fever was pretty high."

Hearing that, Charles frowned and quickly walked over, pulling Olivia into his arms.

The little girl clung to his neck, voice soft and choked with emotion.

"Daddy, I missed you so much... Are you leaving me too?"Charles gently stroked Olivia's head and spoke to her softly, full of tenderness.

"Sweetheart, why would Daddy ever stop loving you? I'm here now, aren't I?"

But right after that, his tone shifted, going cold.

"Stay away from her."

"Daddy, don't blame Aunt Stella. She's been really nice to me," Olivia piped up.

Stella shrugged like it didn't bother her. She wasn't surprised-the little girl had been wary of her when she walked into the room. Clearly, Isabelle had said quite a few nasty things about her. Olivia being scared made perfect sense.

Still, Stella never dragged kids into adult messes. Olivia was innocent.

Charles didn't respond to that part and quickly changed the topic.

"Sweetheart, once you're all better, Daddy will take you to get your favorite toy. Sound good?"

Hearing that, Olivia's tears dried instantly, and she nodded with a big grin.

Watching the sweet father-daughter moment, Stella felt a dull ache in her chest.

She couldn't stay any longer. Without a word, she turned and walked out of the room.

After Olivia fell asleep, Charles tucked her in carefully and exited the room quietly.

Sure enough, Stella was still standing outside.

Just like he thought-this woman clearly had something to say.

All that playing it cool earlier was just an act.

He approached her, cleared his throat, and asked, "Stella, what are you waiting for?"

Bet she was about to try and apologize, beg for forgiveness or something.

Too bad-Charles had no plans to let her off easy. He might as well enjoy watching her squirm.

"Grandma's been paying a lot more attention to us lately," Stella said calmly. "I'm just asking... could you pretend to be on good terms with me in front of her? Just for show."

He scoffed.

Fake it for Grandma's sake? Seriously?

How lame did she think he was?

"One line like that, and you expect me to forgive you?" he sneered, an amused, mocking smile on his face.

Stella sighed, rubbing her forehead and taking a breath.

"Charles, I'm not asking for your forgiveness. I said 'pretend.' You get that, right?"

"What, you don't understand plain English?"

That hit a nerve. He gave a sharp laugh, his tone biting.

"Stella, seriously, quit while you're ahead. This little act? It's getting old."

She let out a bitter smile.

"Then let me put it this way-pretend for Grandma's sake, and you'll still get to play the happy family with Isabelle in front of her. Win-win."

That shut him up. He shot her an icy glare.

"Stella, you-"

"What? Mr. Hart, if you're not interested, then go ahead and leave," she said coldly.

Charles's heart clenched again.

How many times had she thrown that word at him?

Leave.

She really had the nerve.

"Let me see Sophie, and I'll go along with this."

Stella, who had already turned to leave, froze at his words. She looked at him expressionlessly, holding back whatever she was feeling.

"Charles... you were the one who said she should never see you again. Remember?"

Had he...? Thinking back, yeah, maybe he had. He looked away, annoyed.

Stella didn't say another word and left.

Charles, getting irritated, pulled out his phone and shot her a message:

"Stella, if you keep using Sophie as leverage, I'll call the cops."

Once again, that annoying exclamation mark popped up-it was clear she still had him blocked.

Charles frowned, more annoyed than surprised. He switched to another private account and shot Stella a message.

"I agree to your terms."

He stared at the screen like it owed him money.

And sure enough, the same exclamation mark showed up again.

"This woman's insane," he muttered under his breath, gripping the phone tighter before flinging it onto the chair nearby in frustration.

Not giving in, he picked up the phone again and called his assistant.

"Use your phone and send Stella a message-just say, 'I agree to your terms.' Word for word. Don't change a thing."

At that moment, Stella got the text from an unfamiliar number. She skimmed the message once and instantly knew it was from Charles, probably relayed through his assistant.

Got it. No need to reply.

She tossed her phone aside like it meant nothing and didn't spare it another glance.

Charles, on the other hand, waited for her to respond-kept scoping his phone all night. But nothing. Not a single word. He was so annoyed, he didn't sleep at all.

After that, in front of Old Mrs. Hart, he and Stella put on quite the show-always hand in hand, all lovey-dovey.

Old Mrs. Hart, seeing the two so seemingly in sync, was happy with the sight and eventually stopped meddling in their business.

...

Later, in the Hart Corporation's conference room, the air was thick with tension.

Charles sat there with a stone-cold face, quietly listening to department heads give their updates. His pen moved quickly over the reports, marking notes and circling key points.

When it was the marketing department's turn to present their latest expansion plan, Charles cut in midway.

"The risk analysis here is shallow. And your strategy for dealing with competitors? Too conservative. We need to rethink this approach entirely," he said calmly but firmly.

From the far end of the table, Edward Hart let out a soft scoff.

"Come on, Charles. I think the plan's solid. No need to nitpick every detail. The market shifts all the time-if we go too aggressive, it might backfire on us."

Charles' gaze turned icy. His fingers rhythmically tapped the table.

"Companies grow through forward-thinking decisions, not by clinging to old ways. That's how we get left behind."

But Edward clearly wasn't backing down. He leaned in, tone sharp.

"Charles, I'm just being practical here. If this plan tanks, it's the whole company that pays. Not all of us can afford to blindly follow orders like certain people do."

Charles wasn't exactly known for his patience. His voice carried a cold edge.

"Edward, if you've got a better plan, speak up. But if all you're here to do is throw shade, then shut your damn mouth."

Edward shot up from his seat, palms flat on the table.

"Don't act like this company only belongs to you, Charles. It's the Hart family's legacy. If you can't lead it properly, then maybe it's time someone else took your place."

"That's enough!"

Charles slammed the table and stood up.

"Edward, you've crossed the line and disrupted the meeting. Take a few days off. We're done here."

After the tense meeting, Charles returned to his office, face grim as ever.

He knew Edward had already won over a chunk of the company's people. That internal shift wasn't just a small nuisance-it was dangerous.

If he didn't take action soon, everything they'd built could start to fall apart.Just then, his phone started buzzing-it was a call from Old Mrs. Hart.

Charles let out a slow breath, adjusted his tone, and answered, "Grandma, what's up?"

"Charles, I heard you and Edward had a fallout at the office. You're both part of the Hart family, can't you sit down and resolve things properly? Don't give outsiders a reason to gossip."

Wow, someone tattled real fast, huh.

"Grandma, there's a misunderstanding. He's trying to seize control. I can't let him mess up the company just like that," he said flatly.

Old Mrs. Hart paused for a second.

"I know you've been doing everything you can for the business, Charles. But still, try and find time to talk things through with him. We can't let the Hart family crumble from within."

Charles rubbed his temples, his voice low. "Alright, Grandma. I'll try to talk to him."

Ever since Isabelle was injured by Old Mrs. Hart, she'd been staying at the Rosehill Villa recovering.

After Olivia's fever broke, Charles sent her back to Isabelle.

And since that incident, Charles rarely went over to the villa.

Given that Jason lived just next door, yet she'd rather run all the way to the Hart residence to stir up trouble, there was no way Charles didn't see what she was doing.

But dragging Olivia into her schemes? That crossed the line. He was pissed, obviously.

Isabelle, on the other hand, didn't have the faintest clue. Right now, she was lazily sprawled on the plush couch, her pale fingers absentmindedly caressing her phone screen.

Her health had mostly bounced back after some rest, but her hatred for Stella had only deepened.

Narrowing her eyes, Isabelle bit her lip and dialed Edward's number.

He picked up almost instantly, his tone laced with sarcasm. "Well, well, Miss Smith. What made you remember my number today?"

Swallowing her disgust, Isabelle forced a sugary voice. "Edward, I need a favor... Stella's gone too far."

She gave him a full rundown of what had happened.

Edward chuckled coldly. "All those tricks of yours are useless now-even Old Mrs. Hart isn't buying them anymore."

Isabelle gritted her teeth. "Cut the crap. I want you to kidnap Olivia. Make her look half-dead if you have to. Then frame Stella for the whole thing."

"Charles cares about Olivia more than anything. Once he suspects Stella, he'll be done with her. That's your chance to gain more company shares, and for me... well, it gets Stella out of my way."

Edward went quiet for a beat, then laughed under his breath.

"Damn, Isabelle. You really don't hold back, huh? But hey, the idea's kind of fun. Still, I'm not doing this out of goodwill. You know the deal-I need something in return."

No hesitation. Isabelle's eyes gleamed, voice firm.

"Fine, I'm in. As long as it gets Stella out of the picture and brings Charles back to me, I'll do whatever it takes."

They went on to fine-tune the plan, then ended the call.

Isabelle tossed her phone aside, lips curling into a smug little smile.

Just then, Olivia came bouncing into the room, clutching a giant cotton candy, her voice sweet and cheerful.

"Mama! I brought you my favorite cotton candy. I love you so, so much!"

Isabelle reached out and gently stroked Olivia's hair. "Aw, sweetie, Mommy loves you most too."

Yes, Mommy loves you... because you're the key to getting rid of Stella.