Chapter 271
Isabella strode directly to the balcony’s edge.
She swiftly secured the rope around her waist.
Her gloves were pulled on with practiced efficiency.
“Both of you will anchor the rope,” she commanded. “Maintain a firm grip. Do not falter.”
Adrian’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What? Isabella—I mean, Boss! You can’t be serious! You’re going over? This is the eleventh floor! If something goes wrong, how do I explain it to your grandfather?”
Julian’s brow furrowed deeply. He stepped forward. “I’ll do it. You take the rope.”
If any harm came to Isabella, he would be held responsible by countless people. He was the one who brought her back to Westchester.
“We are out of time for debate,” Isabella stated flatly. “Besides, are either of you more capable than I am in this?”
Her words left both men speechless. Julian, especially, knew her skills were unparalleled. His own abilities paled in comparison.
Even so…
A rope descent rescue was incredibly perilous. A single mistake would be unforgivable. He could never face his superiors.
Before he could protest further, Isabella thrust the rope and spare gloves into their hands. “Stay calm. Do not startle her.”
She then climbed onto the balcony railing, fifty meters above the ground.
She stood against the vast expanse of sky, her silhouette sharp and defined against the clouds.
Adrian’s heart hammered in his chest. “Boss, please! Get down! We can find another solution! You’re the only cousin I actually like. If you get hurt…”
“Enough! Hold the rope. Tightly,” Isabella cut him off.
Then, she pushed off the railing, turning to face them as she descended.
Julian instinctively braced, his grip tightening on the rough rope. Adrian squeezed his eyes shut, fear gripping him.
She actually jumped. From the eleventh floor. It was a fifty-meter drop.
On the opposite building, news crews had secured their positions. Their cameras were live-streaming Arabella’s suicide attempt.
The直播 platform’s viewer count skyrocketed. The comment section flooded with vitriol.
[Gigi never pulled a stunt like this. How dare she?]
[Just jump already! Stop faking! Disgusting!]
[The audacity of the homewrecker to play victim. Unbelievable.]
[Vile. Absolutely vile.]
Arabella stood on the ledge, her face a mask of anguish and despair. Silent tears traced paths down her cheeks.
She slowly closed her eyes. Her arms spread wide, as if ready to embrace the air.
She began to lean forward.
A dark figure suddenly shot down from above.
A sharp kick connected with Arabella’s side.
The force sent her tumbling backward onto the balcony floor. A loud crash echoed.
The black figure continued its rapid descent, movements sleek and precise, like a shadow agent.
Reporters and live-stream viewers gasped in unison. Shrieks of shock filled the air.
Julian and Adrian strained against the rope. The sudden weight and velocity were immense.
The rope seared through their gloved hands, generating tiny, fiery sparks.
In a heartbeat, Isabella plummeted past the seventh floor.
Both men hauled back on the rope with all their strength, muscles screaming. The descent halted abruptly.
Isabella now dangled precariously in mid-air.
Assessing the situation instantly, Adrian and Julian exchanged a determined glance.
They began pulling the rope upward together, heaving with concerted effort.
A faint, ominous snap sounded.
Their eyes shot downward.
The rope was fraying dangerously just outside the balcony’s edge.
It was on the verge of breaking.