Chapter 149
Izabe got in the car, the windows closed so tightly that no air could get in. It was autumn, and the
temperature wasn''t too low, but she broke out into a cold sweat.
Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDra/ma.O(r)g!
The driver nced at the rearview mirror and saw the sweat on her forehead. "Are you hot? Do you
want me to turn on the air conditioning?"
"I''m not hot," Izabe shook her head, gripping her fingers tightly. "I''m cold."
Out of fear, yeah. How could she not be scared? She knew Lucas was a jerk, but she didn''t expect
him to owe a whopping ten million.
Ten million for Brett was like a grain of sand, but for Izabe, it was a mountain that could crush her.
Izabe looked out the window, her face seemingly covered in a thinyer of ice, ready to shatter at
the slightest touch.
She nced at the time. It was only two o''clock and she was expected by three.
Nevertheless, Izabe was quite impatient. Once she arrived at her destination, she paid her fare
and exited the car. This was R City''s infamous underground gambling den. She had passed by this
ce before, but she never went inside.
There were mainly two types of people who came here: the wealthy and the poor. Two extremes.
Instead of going in right away, Izabe found a coffee shop to sit in and started thinking about what
she would do next, how she would negotiate with the people inside, and how Lucas had gotten
himself into debt with them.
She had a week toe up with five million in cash. Even if she drained her body of blood, it
wouldn''t be enough.
Izabe usually hid her emotions when she was out, sitting calmly as if she had lost her soul, rather
than thinking.
The piping hot coffee was served, and without thinking, she grasped it. It was as if she couldn''t feel
the heat at all until the waiter reminded her, but her hands were already red from the scalding.
In the face of the waiter''s concerned look, all she did was wave her hand and say, "It''s fine."
Izabe had never liked the bitterness of coffee and only drank it when she couldn''t cope with work.
She used to add a lot of sugar---so much so that others would feel nauseated just looking at it. Yet
to her, no matter how much sugar she added, the coffee still tasted bitter.
After being diagnosed with gastric cancer, she followed Presley''s advice and quit coffee. Now that
she was drinking it again, she found that it wasn''t as bitter as before.
Once she finished her coffee, she checked the time again. It was already five o''clock, so she called
Brett.
The waiting tonested for ten seconds before the call was eventually hung up. Izabe
remembered that Liam had told her in the morning that Brett had an important meeting in the
afternoon.
She sent a text to Brett, informing him that she had something to take care of and would be home
late.
After sending the text, Izabe settled her bill.
She looked at the room number the other party had sent her on her phone and headed towards the
underground den. The ce was vast, and the rooms were confusing, so she asked a waiter to lead
her there.
Izabe arrived half an hour earlier than the agreed time, and the waiter knocked on the door.
After a long wait, the door was opened from the inside. Music and flirtatious voices spilled out into
the hallway.
The VIP room was huge, filled with purple-blue lighting. Izabe quickly scanned the room before
taking a proper look at the man standing in front of the door.
Her first impression was that he was very tall and muscr. He wore a short-sleeved shirt, and his
bulging arms were as thick as her thighs. He emitted a horrifying aura.
Izabe steadied herself and calmly asked, "Where''s Lucas?"
With that mention of Lucas, the man knew who she was. The burly man turned his head, his voice
deep. "Boss, Ms. Salotti is here."
"Let her in," came the voice she had heard over the phone.
The man stepped aside to let her in. "Come in."