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CHAPTER HUNDRED AND THIRTY - SEVEN - I AM ALWAYS FOOLISH IN LOVE.

The letter slipped out of Isabella's hands and fluttered to the floor at her feet. Isabella's hands trembled. Her father's words hanging heavy in the air. The sweetness of his invitation felt like a thin veneer, masking the painful history that lay beneath. How could he presume that a single, sugar-coated letter could erase the years of manipulation and hurt? A bitter laugh escaped her lips as she considered his true intentions. The event wasn't about mending their fractured relationship; it was yet another attempt to exert control, to force her hand and maintain appearances. The thought of attending the grand opening of the hotel made her skin crawl. He must have had that disgusting smug smile on his face as he wrote that nonsense. Wait. He definitely would not have bothered writing that by himself. He would have probably shifted the job of writing it to one of his subordinates. His Secretary maybe. Despite the anger coursing through her veins, Isabella knew she couldn't

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