Isabella's breath hitched in her throat as Mark stepped fully into the room, the shattered glass crunching beneath his feet. The cruel glint in his eyes sent a jolt of fear through her. She felt Charlie tense beside her, his body coiled like a spring, ready to react.
"Mark, what are you doing here?" Isabella demanded, forcing her voice to steady. "You need to leave."
Mark's smile widened, revealing a sinister edge. "Oh, I'm not going anywhere. Not until we have a little chat about your mother's little investigations." His gaze flicked toward the flash drive lying on the coffee table, and a gleam of recognition crossed his face.
"Is that what I think it is? You've really gone digging into things that should've stayed buried." He took a step closer, his presence filling the room with a palpable tension. "You're playing a dangerous game, Isabella."
