Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus)

Go on, keep praising her. Heap on every compliment you can.

This was exactly the effect she wanted.

She wanted her daughter to become the most dazzling debutante in Capitolion, the star of every party, the envy of every eye.

And if, by some stroke of luck, she could one day marry better than Isadora-well, that would be the dream come true.

But just then, right in the midst of this harmonious atmosphere-

A sudden, jarring voice blared from the speakers mounted along the charity gala's gilded walls, drowning out the gentle music from the grand piano.

"No way... Olivia, you actually... killed her."

The words struck like a bolt of lightning, leaving everyone in the hall stunned, mouths agape.

Another voice followed, cold and resolute: "Yes, it was me. If she hadn't died, who knows, maybe they would have traced everything back to me."

"Olivia, you're ruthless."

"Ruthless? What was I supposed to do, just let them find out I was the one who let that wretched Isadora into the warehouse and opened the freezer, hoping she'd freeze to death? That was my idea, wasn't it?"

"Too bad that woman and her unborn child survived. If she'd lost the baby, she'd be worthless to Victor, and none of this would have happened."

The recording repeated again and again, echoing through the hall, like some terrible nightmare come to life.

Everyone at the gala was frozen in shock, glancing uncertainly at one another.

Murder? Was this... a confession? Who could say such vile things so calmly? People began searching for the source of the voice, trying to place who it belonged to.

After a brief, stunned silence, realization seemed to dawn: the voice in the recording sounded just like Olivia-the Olivia who was standing on stage.

In an instant, all eyes in the room locked onto the stage.

The journalists, already on high alert, pounced like wolves scenting blood. They surged forward, desperate not to miss the scoop of the year.noveldrama

Flashes erupted and cameras whirred, the entire charity gala now ablaze with blinding lights.

Olivia stood frozen in the spotlight, listening in horror as her own voice and Sally Leda's played over and over.

All color drained from her face, leaving her ghostly pale.

She saw the crowd below-gossipmongers, accusers, the righteous and the ravenous—all surging toward her.

There was no hiding the terror in her eyes. Her body trembled.

"Aah!"

She flung aside her priceless cello in a panic.

With a heavy thud, the instrument crashed to the floor.

Olivia leapt to her feet, desperate to escape this pack of wolves.

She barely made it a few steps before the journalists swarmed in forming an impenetrable wall of microphones and questions, pressing in so close she could barely breathe.

Olivia screamed, furious. "Get away! Get out of my way! Don't you understand this is fake?"

"This is a doctored recording! Someone's out to frame me! Get lost!"

The scene descended into chaos.

Offstage, Andrina was completely dumbfounded, spinning in helpless circles.

"What on earth is going on?"

"Turn that thing off! Someone, turn it off, now!"

She fumbled for her phone, frantically dialing the Walsh family for help.

Meanwhile, Isadora rose to her feet, fixing Olivia with an icy glare. Her voice rang out, clear and cold: "Olivia, it was you who locked me in the Walsh family's storage room and left me to freeze. You threw your own nanny under the bus to save yourself. You even killed her with your own hands. You can't run from this."

Trapped in the sea of reporters, Olivia's

eyes blazed red. She jabbot

at Isadora,

spitting with rageen as

"I deny everything! You lying witch, I'll have my lawyer sue you for slander!"

Isadora met Olivia's glare, a cold smile flickering across her lips.

"You'd better hope your lawyer can bail you out before the police get done with you."

Even as Isadora finished speaking, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed from the entrance.

Everyone turned to look.

A squad of police officers, crisp in their uniforms, filed into the gala, one after another.