"Why would I ask you to break up?"
Isabella almost thought she had misheard.
Philip Steele took a slow sip of Early grey, his movements steady and unhurried, as if he had just said something completely ordinary.
"How you two interact is your own business. I don't interfere in that. As for other matters, I've already agreed to your conditions."
Her mind stalled for a moment.
This… was not the script she had prepared for.
He didn't come to force her to leave Victor?
Then why call her here at all?
She steadied herself and spoke calmly.
"My mother is sick. Apart from that, I don't need much money. And if I truly needed it, I could ask Victor directly. What makes you think I would definitely make a deal with you?"
Philip Steele did not look surprised at all.
Instead, the corners of his lips curved slightly.
In his eyes, she saw something faintly mocking, faintly indulgent. It was the look of someone who had lived through too much, looking at youth and thinking, naive.
