Sweet Flash Marriage with the Restrained Tycoon (Isabelle and Damien) novel Chapter 78

Her mind was still replaying his words from earlier. "Tonight, I'm going to..."

She took a steadying breath.

"Ding—

The elevator doors slid open.

Everyone froze on the spot, a few letting out sharp gasps.

Isabelle was so startled the folders and notepad in her hands clattered to the floor, her gaze locked on the scene inside.

In the elevator, Oliver was on his knees, his left hand cradling his right, his face contorted in agony, veins standing out on his neck.

A pen was impaled through his right hand, the point emerging from the other side, blood steadily dripping.

A small, dark pool had soaked into the elevator carpet.

A thick, metallic smell wafted out, turning stomachs.

Standing beside Oliver was another figure—Damian.

He wore only his suit trousers, the cold glint of his belt buckle catching the light. The sight was unnerving.

He was calmly wiping blood spatter from his glasses with a tissue. Droplets of red marked his toned abdomen.

His eyes showed no emotion.

Isabelle's gaze swept over him, and their eyes met.

No one dared to speak until the elevator doors began to slowly close.

"What did Oliver do...?"

"Is Mr. Cross always this intense?"

"Did you see that? Mr. Cross has abs for days!"

"What a waste, I should've taken a picture. He's unreal."

"I heard he harassed Ms. Foster the other night, and Ms. Debose and Mr. Blake witnessed it."

"Mr. Cross wouldn't go that far just for a regular employee, would he...?"

"Ms. Foster, Mr. Cross isn't... interested in you, is he?"

"Ms. Foster, are you alright?"

All eyes turned to Isabelle, hungry for a clue.

"I... I'm a bit queasy around blood..." Her heart was hammering. "Go ahead without me, please cover for me..."

Eleanor, seeing her pale complexion, quickly moved to support her.

"We'll go up first then, Ms. Foster."

The group looked at her with a mix of concern and curiosity.

The adjacent elevator arrived, and the others filed in.

"Eleanor, you go ahead. I need to check on something. Message me if anything comes up," Isabelle said.

"Alright," Eleanor replied, knowing full well her friend had no issue with blood.

As the elevator doors closed, Isabelle hurriedly gathered her dropped files and walked to the opposite bank of elevators.

She rode up to the 30th floor. A trail of blood droplets led from the CEO's office to the elevator lobby.

She rushed into the office and picked up his discarded dress shirt and suit jacket from the chair.

On the desk lay a small pool of blood and a fresh puncture mark.

She could visualize it—him pinning Oliver's hand to the desk and driving the pen through without a second thought.

A shiver ran through her. Her hands trembled slightly as she held the garments.

She took the elevator down to the lobby.

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