Fated Marriage Spoiled by My Ice Billionaire novel Chapter 212

Chapter 212 A Final Warning

Celeste stepped inside gracefully.

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“Ms. Snow.” Isabelle said with a slight, composed smile, gesturing toward an empty cushion across from her.

Celeste looked at her. Her profile and the elegant line of her neck were strikingly distinctive, almost reminiscent of Muddlehead’s, or perhaps…

She was Muddlehead?

No, that couldn’t be.

If she were, why wouldn’t she claim the title openly?

If she were, why hadn’t she exposed Celeste’s lie on the spot last night?

She must be mistaken.

Celeste’s eyes flicked to Damian, who appeared to be dozing nearby. She considered greeting him but decided against disturbing his rest.

“Mrs. Cross.”

Isabelle nodded and poured her a cup of coffee.

“Ms. Snow, your leg must be healing well by now?” Isabelle remarked casually.

“Thank you for asking. It’s improving,” Celeste replied coolly, not keen to dwell on the subject. “I haven’t seen Muddlehead here today. I wanted to inquire about the progress on my gown.”

“The preliminary sketches will be sent to you tonight,” Isabelle assured her with the same polite smile.

Isabelle made no effort to clarify the truth about Muddlehead. She wasn’t intentionally using Celeste–she simply believed a woman who wove such intricate webs of deceit deserved to experience the discomfort of her own inflated claims.

Isabelle was not a particularly forgiving person, and she saw no reason to start now.

This woman had set her sights on Isabelle’s husband, dropping subtle hints and maneuvering in the shadows. How could Isabelle simply let that pass?

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Chapter 212 A Final Warning

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The other side had made her move. Was Isabelle supposed to just sit back and take it?

Besides, this entire predicament was one Celeste had authored herself.

A faint, knowing smile touched Isabelle’s lips. It was the first time she had taken it upon herself to decisively handle one of Damian’s persistent admirers.

In the past, Damian had been the one to swiftly clear the field. Now, she found herself stepping forward to protect what was hers.

She realized, almost unconsciously, just how deeply possessive she had become over this

man.

Celeste tried several times to steer the conversation back to Muddlehead, but Isabelle deftly sidestepped each attempt. It seemed everyone present was adept at avoiding the subject.

Earlier, at the entrance, she had discreetly questioned a few staff members as well, but they had all remained tight–lipped about the designer’s identity, so she hadn’t thought much more of it.

Diana, who had remained standing nearby, naturally sensed the growing awkwardness. She offered a faint, professional smile but did not intervene in Celeste’s probing.

“Please review this when you have a moment,” Diana said, handing a tablet to Isabelle.

The tablet had a privacy screen filter, so Celeste could not make out its contents.

Isabelle openly tapped and scrolled through the information. Diana did not linger and excused herself to manage the remaining guests outside.

Celeste watched Isabelle, who remained focused on the documents. She carried herself with the quiet authority of someone in charge, the de facto leader of the studio’s affairs.

Diana was a renowned designer in her own right–many clients came specifically for her reputation. Yet even Diana seemed to treat Isabelle with a certain level of deference.

Celeste frowned. If that were the case, then Muddlehead must hold Isabelle in very high

esteem.

Isabelle had earned recognition from respected mentors during the annual design awards hosted by Cross Group’s fashion division. It stood to reason that a talent like Muddlehead would value someone with such proven skill.

Still, Celeste couldn’t shake the feeling that Isabelle was merely mediocre. She certainly didn’t regard her as a significant threat.

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Chapter 212 A Final Warning

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“Ms. Snow, you came specifically to see Muddlehead, correct?” Isabelle said without looking up from the file. She took a measured sip of coffee, closed the tablet, and leveled a calm gaze at Celeste’s increasingly uneasy expression.

“Yes,” Celeste admitted, a hint of embarrassment coloring her tone.

She feared Isabelle might see right through her real motive for being there.

In truth, Isabelle understood her intentions completely.

Isabelle smiled, opened a messaging app on the tablet, and displayed a QR code on the

screen.

“Business account,” she stated simply.

Celeste paused. A business account?

She wasn’t particularly eager to add it, but considering she might not leave entirely empty- handed, she reluctantly scanned the code with her phone.

“You don’t actually know Muddlehead,” Isabelle stated. It wasn’t a question.

She was offering Celeste one final opportunity to back down with a shred of dignity intact- and also, in a way, thanking her for the unintentional publicity she had generated for the Muddlehead brand.

Celeste grew visibly tense. Being so transparently seen through by Isabelle left her flustered, unsure whether to confess or double down.

“Muddlehead isn’t making an issue of it. You should probably head back,” Isabelle suggested, her tone dismissive yet final.

“How could you possibly know that?” Celeste retorted, her defensiveness surfacing as she struggled to maintain a facade of composure. She was putting on a brave face.

As if Isabelle wouldn’t notice the act.

“I’m very close with Muddlehead,” Isabelle repeated, a line she had used many times before.

It made Celeste seriously question again if Isabelle was Muddlehead. But if that were true, why would she keep it such a secret?

Isabelle was no fool. If her alter–ego were exposed, that 200,000–dollar custom gown commission would be mired in complications long before the first cut of fabric.

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