Chapter 186

Isabella Langley's words hung in the air, plunging the living room into dead silence.

Evelyn Roland's lips curled into a mocking smile.

"You seem to have overlooked one crucial detail."

Isabella shivered under that piercing gaze. Those sharp eyes seemed capable of seeing straight through her, exposing every hidden thought.

"W-what detail?" She instinctively took half a step back.

"Is there any problem with me entering my own company?"

Isabella's pupils constricted violently. "What do you mean?"

Evelyn leisurely pulled out her phone and displayed an electronic document. "CH Jewelry. Mine."

The screen clearly showed the corporate registration information, with Evelyn's photo and name prominently displayed.

"Evelyn!" Alexander Roland stood up excitedly. "You're the founder of CH?"

"Mhm." She responded casually.

The room erupted.

"My daughter is amazing!" Sophia Roland's eyes welled up with proud tears.

"We never properly thanked you for the KL incident." Alexander rubbed his hands together, suddenly realizing their 90-10 profit split had been an enormous favor. Without his sister's intervention, that astronomical penalty...

"Family doesn't keep score."

Isabella's nails dug into her palms. Impossible! How could that bitch be CH's CEO? She forced a smile. "I'm sorry, sis. I was just worried about big brother..."

Her head bowed in false contrition, but her gaze remained locked onto Evelyn.

"Isabella!" Sophia frowned. "Making accusations without knowing the facts is unacceptable."

"This can't happen again." Mr. Roland's expression darkened.

Isabella gritted her teeth through the apology, secretly wishing she could tear that composed face to shreds.

Sophia watched her adopted daughter's insincere expression with growing unease. She hadn't forgotten those divisive words earlier...

Evelyn's attention, however, was entirely focused on the photos on the coffee table.

These surveillance shots... didn't seem like Olivia Valdemar's style.

She narrowed her eyes. This required investigation.

Back in her bedroom, her fingers tapped rhythmically against the desk.

Over thirty photos spanning nearly two months. Someone had been very patient.

A cold laugh escaped her lips as she dialed a number. "Dylan Orlando."

"Boss?"

"Trace the source of these." She sent the file package. "After two months of stalking, they're bound to have slipped up."

A sharp intake of breath came through the phone. "Someone's been tailing you for two months?"