Chapter 8 8.Spy

"Also, you need to take $20,000 and give it to Mr. Bennett, the intermediary. We've been hiring household staff through him, and you should ask him to find a job for your distant niece, Lily, in our house."

"I understand, Ma'am," Ava nodded. Instead of letting Charlotte insert another spy, it was better for them to take the initiative.

After she had finished giving instructions, Isabella felt tired and went to bed early.

Three days later, Ava brought Lily to meet her.

"Hello, Ma'am," Lily politely bowed. She had her hair in two thick braids, and she appeared quite intelligent.

Isabella smiled and asked her a few simple questions. Lily was two years older than her, twenty-one years old, with a high school diploma. She had come from Blue River town to Ithaca town a year ago and had previously worked as a waitress in a restaurant.

"However, you must remember that in this house, you don't need to reveal your relationship with Ava or me, or even with me," she reminded her.

"I understand," Lily said, seeming quite perceptive.

Isabella nodded in satisfaction and asked her to get to work. It wouldn't be good for a new kitchen assistant to stay in her room for too long.

Lily walked to the door but seemed to remember something and scratched her head, saying, "Miss, when I went to deliver juice to Mrs. Charlotte and Emily in the garden this afternoon, I overheard them talking about 'Moonlit Art Inc.,' shares, and someone having unrealistic hopes about something."

"Is that all you heard? You're obedient but not very attentive," Ava scolded her.

Lily immediately looked nervous, afraid of being criticized.

Isabella, however, encouraged her with a smile, "You've done well; you can go now."

Lily, pleased with the praise, left the room.

Ava, on the other hand, looked worried.

"Moonlit Art Inc. is your grandfather's business, and they're occupying it now. They won't even allow you to intern in the company. What can we do?" Ava was getting anxious.

"I didn't plan to intern at the company anyway. It's just a smokescreen for my father and stepmother," Isabella replied.

The USB drive she had Ava send out should have some results by now.

As expected, the next morning, she received a call from Connor, asking her to meet him at a coffee shop outside the company.

She took extra care with her appearance before leaving.

She wore a white dress and let her long golden hair flow casually to her waist, taking light and brisk steps as she entered the private room. Connor felt a cool breeze as if he were meeting a young and vibrant girl.

"Uncle Connor, hello," she politely greeted Connor.

Despite looking down on Connor for drugging women, he was still her elder, and, besides, she needed something from him.

"Please, have a seat," he gestured.

She sat down in the seat across from him without any reservation. He had already ordered a glass of orange juice for her. She picked up the glass, took a sip, and smiled, as she had always done, taking a few sips.

She wasn't worried that Connor would put anything in her drink. After all, she was the daughter of the vice mayor, the future heiress of Moonlit Art Inc., and her status was quite clear. He wouldn't do something so foolish.

"I remember the last time I saw you, you were only this tall, and now you're a grown-up," Connor said, looking at her and feeling nostalgic.

"I remember the last time I saw Uncle, you were still a young man. But now, Uncle, you're still very handsome," she flattered.

Connor smiled, suddenly finding this little girl so adorable. Despite her little tricks and schemes, he couldn't bring himself to dislike her.

"Isabella, you've been calling me 'Uncle' so affectionately. Great-niece, can you please explain this?" Connor shook the USB drive in his hand.

Isabella gazed at him with a pair of innocent, large eyes. "Uncle Connor, you must have misunderstood. I bought this from someone at a high price. Those people surely have malicious intentions to slander you. How could I stand by and watch you suffer?"

Her explanation had numerous loopholes, but she presented it with utmost seriousness.

He couldn't help but want to laugh.

Both were intelligent people, and they both knew what was happening. Her explanation didn't need to be perfect; it just needed to provide Connor with a way out.

"So, does this mean I owe you a favor?" Connor said with a mischievous smile.

She rested her chin on one hand and nodded impolitely, "I know Uncle Connor dislikes owing favors the most, and I happen to have something I'd like to ask for Uncle Connor's help with."

"Oh, what is it? Tell me," Connor asked in a casual tone.

She placed her juice glass on the table with a serious look, "I heard that Director Davis is preparing to shoot 'The Mermaid Princess,' and I know you have some connections with him. I hope you can introduce me to him."

Connor, somewhat surprised, replied, "I thought you were... "

He had always assumed that she wanted to use secretly filmed videos to blackmail him into helping her get into the company or even the board of directors. Connor even felt that this young girl was somewhat overestimating herself.

But now, he suddenly felt that he had underestimated the young woman in front of him; she was indeed very clever.

David and Charlotte controlled the company, and they would not easily let her get involved. However, if she entered the company as a contracted artist, David might relax his guard. Introducing her to Director Davis was a small favor for him. He was happy to do it.

"It's no wonder you're Mr. Allen's granddaughter; you truly are impressive," Connor sighed, but he also reminded Isabella, "Word is spreading in the industry that your stepsister Victoria is already set to be the lead actress in 'The Mermaid Princess.'"

"It's just rumors, and in the end, it's all about individual talent," she smiled with confidence and boldness.

...

After parting ways with Connor, Isabella didn't immediately return to the Harris family but drove to her apartment. She hadn't seen her son Asher for many days, and she was eager to see him.

She had the key to the apartment, so she let herself in.

She changed her shoes in the entrance and faintly heard beautiful piano music coming from upstairs.

She followed the music upstairs, and the bedroom door was slightly ajar, with the music coming from inside.

She paused at the doorway, the scene inside was so beautiful that she hesitated to disturb it.

The setting sun cast an orange-yellow glow, spilling into the room through the window.

In front of the window stood a black grand piano, and a tall, handsome man sat at the piano. The sunlight outlined the contours of his deep, chiseled features.

He held a small child in one hand and the other hand gracefully touched the black and white keys of the piano. His fingers were long and clean, each joint clearly defined, elegantly and effortlessly pressing the piano keys.

The baby rested against his chest, waving their tiny hands excitedly. The contrast between the burly Andrew and the baby's playful demeanor was quite comical, and she could barely hold back her laughter.

She remained in a trance until the music stopped.

"You're here, come in," he said without turning around or mentioning her name, but she knew he was addressing her. She couldn't help but wonder if the back of his head had eyes.

She took a step and walked over to him. The piano bench was long, and she sat down beside him. With one hand supporting her chin, she looked at him directly.