Chapter 84 Why Don't You Know When to Stop

Clara yanked on Lucas's arm, pinning all the blame on Isabella.

Lucas had never been treated like this before. Not only was he humiliated, but he also didn't get the cash he was supposed to get.

Over at Spencer Manor, Marlowe was trying to calm down a very upset Isabella. "I don't think your dad's gonna let this slide. If he stirs up more trouble, the Spencer family will definitely blame you."

Isabella wiped away her tears, feeling all kinds of emotions and not knowing where to start. "Marlowe, I don't care what the Spencer family thinks of me. They already have their opinions. My marriage with George was always about mutual benefit. Falling for him was just a twist I didn't see coming."

"So," Isabella sighed deeply, "divorce is a relief for me, for George, and for the Spencer family."

"You can't think like that. You can't throw away your happiness out of spite." Marlowe held Isabella's cold little hand and said, "With the Spencer family's power, your dad wouldn't dare to cause too much trouble."

"The Jones Group is done for now. You don't get it, Lucas only cares about money, not me." Isabella sighed.

"Is he really your biological father?"

Isabella gave a wry smile. "Who knows."

There was a knock on the door, and George walked in.

Seeing this, Marlowe straightened up and left, giving the two some space.

Isabella hugged her legs, sitting on the big bed. George gently sat opposite her. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. Patricia's still mad at me, isn't she?" she said.

George gently took her hand. "Probably not."

"It's impossible."

"Let's not talk about her. You should rest and get some sleep."

Isabella frowned slightly and said, "George, you should just sign the divorce papers. I don't want to bring trouble to the Spencer family because of me, and I don't have the energy to deal with this."

"Do you really want a divorce?" George asked.

Isabella nodded lightly. "Yeah."

"No regrets?"

"No regrets."

"Alright."

George was never one to hesitate. He wanted to win her back, to make Isabella see him differently. Even though they made love yesterday, it still couldn't change her determination to leave him.

Suddenly, everything seemed meaningless.

"I'll have Caleb draft a new divorce agreement. Once it's signed, I'll have him bring it to you." George said and stood up, filled with regret and reluctance.

Things that were forced never lasted long.

George understood this, and he believed Isabella did too.

In Patricia's room, Thalia was badmouthing Isabella, which annoyed Patricia.

"Enough. No matter how bad Isabella is, George likes her. Watch your mouth." Patricia said angrily.

Thalia clung to Patricia's arm, whining, "Aunt Patricia, George is bewitched by Isabella's looks. She's bad news, typical Jones. I think George should divorce her ASAP."

"Is George a child? His affairs are none of your business." Patricia said.

"I can stay out of it, but you can't." Thalia said.

Patricia was annoyed by Thalia. "Alright, I need to rest now. You should leave."

"Think about what I said. I'm doing this for your good, for the good of the Spencer family, and for George. Otherwise, what do I gain from it?"

"Just leave."

Thalia got booted out of the room, her face dark. As she passed by George's bedroom, she saw Isabella inside, rudely pushing the door open and barging in.

Isabella was startled and looked up at her. "Why'd you come in without knocking?"

"This is George's room. Why should I knock? But you, why are you still here? Didn't you already ask for a divorce? Don't you think the Spencer family can't accept you?" Thalia sneered. "Isn't George less attractive than the men outside?"

"Watch your mouth. If you keep talking nonsense, I'll be rude to you." Isabella hated Thalia's sarcastic remarks.

"Did I say something wrong? Isabella, stop pretending to be noble. If you don't have a lover outside, why are you divorcing George? Is he not good enough for you? Can't satisfy you? Or do you need many men to fulfill your insatiable desires?" Thalia's words were extremely insulting to Isabella.

Although Isabella wasn't a violent person, she wouldn't let anyone trample on her like this.

Isabella got off the bed and walked up to Thalia, who was two years older than her and wasn't very pretty but was youthful and cute. But her words were so rude.

Isabella's slender fingers lightly slid across Thalia's small face, making Thalia a bit scared. Thalia said, "What are you doing?"

"Thalia, out of respect for Patricia, I won't hold this against you. Why don't you know when to stop?" Isabella suddenly grabbed Thalia's head, pulled it down, and kneed her hard.

Thalia's body went limp, collapsing to the ground, blood gushing from her nose.

She touched the warm liquid from her nose, panicked, and screamed, "Isabella, how dare you hit me! Isabella is hitting me!"

Isabella snorted coldly and kicked her again. "I'm hitting you, so what?"

Isabella eventually left the Spencer Manor, thinking she might never get the chance to come back.

Isabella and Marlowe took the earliest flight back to Riverside City.

At the exit, Marlowe went to get the luggage while Isabella went to hail a cab.

It was hard to get a cab. Standing by the roadside, Isabella tried to call for a ride. A dark business car without a license plate stopped beside her.

The door opened, and a few strong men got out. Before Isabella could say a word, she was dragged into the car, and they quickly drove away.

Marlowe came out and only saw the car's taillights, thinking, 'This isn't good. Could it be a kidnapping?'

After calling the police, Marlowe thought it over and decided to inform George.

Isabella's face was covered by a black hood, and she couldn't see anything. She asked, "Who are you? Did you kidnap the wrong person?"

No one responded to her. The air was filled with the nauseating smell of smoke and men.

"I'm talking to you. Who are you? Do you want money? I have money. I can give it to you. Where are you taking me?" Isabella said, feeling unlucky. She kept getting kidnapped, but this time, her heart was uneasy, with a sense of foreboding.

'Christmas is in three days. Am I going to die before Christmas?' she thought.