Chapter 63

“This necklace was bought through a trusted contact! How dare they scam me!” Penny fumed, her face flushed with rage. She was consumed by the desire to hunt down the perpetrator and exact revenge for making her the laughingstock of the day.

Arial, sensing the tension, excused herself. “Mr. Yates, if there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave now.”

“Of course, thank you for your time, Miss Winters. Someone, please see Miss Winters off,” Thomas instructed.

After Arial departed, Penny turned to Isabel with a strained smile. “Isabel, I’m so sorry; I’ll make it up to you another time.”

“There’s no need,” Blake interjected coldly. “Madam Penny, you should keep it to yourself.”

Penny clenched her fists, her face darkening as she suppressed her fury.

To diffuse the situation, Thomas said, “Dinner won’t be ready for a while. Blake, why don’t you show Isabel around?”

With that, the awkwardness subsided. Blake took Isabel on a tour of the Yates residence. Isabel had seen many impressive houses, but the Yates estate was in a league of its own.

“See over there?” Blake pointed. “That’s our vegetable garden. All the produce we eat is homegrown and pesticide-free. And over there is the orchard—plenty of fruit trees, including mangoes, dragon fruit, and oranges. Want to check it out?”

“Sure,” Isabel said with a smile, intrigued.

Blake, knowing her tastes, omitted the private cinema, swimming pool, and sports courts.

When they reached the orchard, the bright orange trees were laden with ripe fruit, their vibrant color a feast for the eyes. “These are oranges, and over there, we have dragon fruit, mangoes, and more. Here, try this orange.” Blake picked one, peeled it, and offered it to Isabel.

The fruit was deliciously sweet, a testament to the Yates family’s opulent lifestyle.

Just then, the butler arrived with a message. “Mr. Blake, Mr. Yates would like to see you in the study.”

Blake turned to Isabel. “Isabel, I’ll be back soon. Feel free to look around.”

“Certainly,” she replied.

After Blake left, Isabel strolled through the orchard, snapping photos of the vibrant orange trees. She also photographed the lush cabbage rows in the vegetable garden, even changing her WhatsApp profile picture to one of the cabbages. Comparing this to Blake’s profile picture—a pile of cow manure—beside her previous floral image, felt jarring.

Continuing her stroll, she returned to the orchard. Noticing Blake’s absence, she picked a few oranges, savoring their sweetness, before wandering off.

“Hello, gorgeous.” A man approached. He bore a striking resemblance to Blake.

Isabel raised an eyebrow. Must be one of Blake’s cousins, she thought, remembering meeting Thomas's wives but not all their children.

Curiously, Isabel asked, “Who are you?”

The man offered a sly grin. “I’m Timothy Yates, Penny’s son. Technically, I’m Blake’s older brother. So, you must be the fiancée he brought home today?”

“Yes, that’s me. Is there something you need?”

Instead of answering, Timothy stepped closer, a smirk playing on his lips. “Need? Not quite. But look at this orchard. It’s so peaceful. Rather than staying as Blake’s fiancée, why not consider being my woman? I’d treat you so much better.”

Ha! What a shameless playboy.

Before she could respond, Timothy reached out to touch her face. Isabel’s reflexes were sharp; she swiftly grabbed his finger.

Timothy’s face contorted in pain. “Ah! Let go! What kind of woman are you to have such strength?”

Isabel’s voice was icy. “You call yourself a son of the Yates family, yet you behave so disgracefully? Have you never heard the saying, ‘Don’t flirt with your friend’s wife!’ Or is it that you simply don’t care? Let me remind you, I’m your brother’s fiancée.”

Timothy sneered. “That cripple? You think I consider him my brother? Please. Woman, you should be honored I’m even interested. This is your lucky break!”

“Your lucky break! Here, have it back!” Isabel tightened her grip mercilessly, and Timothy doubled over, gasping in pain. “Let go! Let go!” he begged. “I swear I won’t do it again!”

Only then did Isabel release him. However, as soon as he was free, his expression twisted into something vicious. “You bitch! How dare you treat me like this? I’m not letting you off so easily!” he roared, charging toward Isabel.

Isabel dodged swiftly, plucked an orange, and hurled it at him. Thud! The orange smacked him in the left eye, instantly blackening it. “You bitch!” he began, before another orange struck his right eye. Timothy now sported a pair of panda eyes.

The searing pain only fueled his rage. He’d assumed Blake’s fiancée was a naive country girl—easy to manipulate and intimidate. His plan had been simple: humiliate Blake by messing with his fiancée. But instead of a pushover, he found himself facing someone utterly unrelenting.

Seething, Timothy called for backup. Within minutes, ten men rushed to his aid. “Grab her!” he barked. “Whoever gets her will be handsomely rewarded!”

The group lunged, but Isabel leaped onto a nearby orange tree. From her perch, she began picking and throwing oranges with uncanny precision. One by one, the men crumpled to the ground. Not one touched Isabel’s clothes.

“Wow, this is fun,” Isabel chuckled, surveying the chaos. The men looked up, dazed and defeated.

Meanwhile, Isabel casually peeled an orange and ate a slice. “Delicious!” she declared. “The Yates family’s oranges really are as sweet as they look. Timothy, want to try one?”

Without waiting for a reply, she tossed the peel at his face. Smack! The peel felt like a slap, and Timothy winced in humiliation.

“Isabel Galvez!” he bellowed, his face swelling. “You bitch! You’d better stay up there forever, because if you come down, you’re dead meat!”

He had never been treated like this.

Blake was in Thomas’s study. Father and son discussed work. The butler suddenly rushed in.

“Mr. Yates, something’s happened in the orchard!”

Blake immediately stood, his heart sinking. “Dad, I’ll go take a look. Isabel is over there alone,” he said, hurrying out. He was worried something might happen to her. He knew the Yates family were scheming and sinister.

Arriving at the orchard, he froze. Isabel was lounging on a tree branch, calmly eating an orange. Below her, Timothy sported two swollen black eyes, and a dozen men lay groaning.

Seconds later, Penny arrived, gasping in horror at her son’s battered face. Knowing Isabel was responsible, her face turned livid. Adding to her earlier rage over the counterfeit necklace, this new humiliation was unbearable. She was furious beyond measure.

“Isabel Galvez, look what you’ve done to my son!” she shouted, her voice shaking with fury. “You’re out of control!”