Sonia's POV
I paced back and forth in my penthouse, glaring at the flat-screen TV. Isabelle's face was all over the news, her stupid little smirk plastered across the screen. He didn't even scratch her. My fists clenched so hard my nails dug into my palms. The plan was perfect—or at least it should have been.
The phone in my hand buzzed, snapping me out of my furious spiral. I didn't need to check the screen to know who it was. Sandra.
"What the hell happened?" I hissed the moment I answered.
"You tell me, Sonia!" Sandra's sharp voice cut through the line. "It was your plan! And it failed miserably."
I grit my teeth. "How is this my fault? I wasn't the one holding the knife!"
"You might as well have been! Now Isabelle looks untouchable—invincible! And we're the ones left looking like fools."
"Then do something about it!" I snapped. "When are we releasing the damn video? I'm done waiting."
