"Within three days, I will breach the firewall of the Ascot Group."

Such an email would have been dismissed as a joke in the past. But this time was different. The servers of the Ascot Group, touted as the most secure in Riverdale, were truly on the brink of capitulation.

"Find him. Bring him back."

In front of the screen, a man lounged on a sofa, his presence exuding an aura of undeniable authority.

He was none other than the Young Master Windsor of Riverdale, the architect behind the leading business empire in the country, the Ascot Group—Alexander Windsor.

His approach to problems was notoriously direct and efficient; he believed in using money where it could solve problems, and where it couldn't, he wouldn't hesitate to employ force.

If these incompetents couldn't fend off the invading hacker, then the solution was simple—track them through the net and bring them back by any means necessary.

Meanwhile, in a rundown rental apartment, Isabella Sterling watched the characters dance across her screen with satisfaction. At this rate, the firewall of the Ascot Group wouldn't last three days.

She had heard that Alexander had spent a fortune to acquire a piece of land that the city hall had intended for the reconstruction of an orphanage. His ruthlessness and lack of compassion seemed boundless.

"Perhaps it's time he learns a lesson. Even if the Ascot Group doesn't crumble, the losses Alexander will suffer from this attack are astronomical."

Isabella's lips curved into a smirk at the thought. Glancing at the time on her screen, she realized she was late again and braced herself for the inevitable consequences.

At Sterling Manor, her stepmother, Eleanor Sterling, and half-sister, Charlotte Sterling, were leisurely enjoying fruit on the couch. Eleanor's uncharacteristic approach upon Isabella's entry was alarming.

"Isabella, you've finally returned. Just in time, I have some good news for you."

Skeptical, Isabella recalled how even a half-minute delay in the past would result in a tirade or worse, physical punishment. Ever since being adopted from the orphanage by the Sterlings, such treatment had become the norm.

"Ungrateful girl, are you deaf to my words?" Eleanor's patience was thin, especially for an adopted child who couldn't grasp the gravity of the conversation.

Charlotte stood up, her red dress billowing like a declaration of her aristocratic status. "Sister, given the recent troubles our corporation has faced, our parents worry about your future. They've found a wealthy suitor for you. Marrying him will ensure you a life of luxury."

Isabella's eyes flickered with amusement but she remained silent, fully aware of the Sterlings' intentions. Their recent financial blunders had pushed them to this desperate measure of marrying her off.

"Why shouldn't Charlotte take this wonderful opportunity?" Isabella countered, watching Charlotte's face sour instantly.

Eleanor interjected, "Charlotte and Mr. Alexander have been childhood sweethearts. Only someone of Mr. Alexander's caliber is worthy of our Charlotte. You should realize your place."

Their words made Charlotte beam with pride. Despite Isabella's beauty, they viewed her as nothing more than a pawn in their game—destined to marry a detestable old man, while Charlotte would bask in the glory of union with Riverdale's most powerful man.

"From what I've heard, he might be older, but he's wealthy and caring. It took a lot of convincing to arrange this marriage. Don't disappoint our parents," Charlotte pressed, with Eleanor quickly adding, "This matter is settled. Your agreement is irrelevant. The engagement ceremony is tomorrow night. We're doing this for your own good."

"I understand. Let's proceed as you wish," Isabella complied, her docility catching Charlotte off guard, who expected more resistance. It seemed, after all, that an orphan could only be so fortunate to secure a benefactor, leaving no room for choice.

Isabella ascended the stairs without betraying any emotion, her room situated at the very end of the second floor. It was a converted storeroom, less comfortable than even a servant's quarters, shadowy and damp.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, she pulled out her phone to scroll through Riverdale's latest news flashes. The cyber attack on the Ascot Group had made headlines, sparking a myriad of speculations in the comments. Yet, no one guessed that the "mastermind" behind it all was a woman.

In the CEO's office of Ascot Group, Alexander sat with his eyes closed, resting against his chair, his distinguished face devoid of any expression. The air in the office felt stagnant, as if presaging the apocalypse.

His subordinates, freshly returned from that dilapidated apartment building, stood before him with heads bowed, hearts lodged in their throats.

The office was in disarray; except for the chair Alexander was sitting on, everything else had been caught in the storm of his fury. Even the valuable ornament gifted by foreign royalty lay shattered on the floor, a testament to the magnitude of his rage.

“A bunch of incompetents.”

After a prolonged silence, Alexander’s voice, cold as winter snowflakes, fell, making everyone sharply inhale.

“Boss, we’ve checked the surveillance along the way. That woman last went to The Sterling…”

The mention of The Sterling made the assistant's voice tread lightly, well aware of the special relationship between Charlotte and their boss.

Charlotte? No, she lacked the skill and the courage.

Could it be The Sterling’s adopted daughter?

…

On the other end, Isabella set down her phone and pulled out her old, chipped laptop, her eyes forming crescents of satisfaction.

At last, the firewall of Ascot Group had been breached.

Viewing the lengthy string of digits in Ascot Group's accounts, Isabella’s lips twitched. Alexander was already so wealthy, yet he had the audacity to eye the orphanage’s funds!

Fueled by indignation, her slender fingers danced over the keyboard. Moments later, ten million from Ascot Group’s account found its way to the Riverdale Children’s Foundation.

"Why stop there? Let’s make some investments on your behalf, shall we?"

Soon, a significant amount of Ascot Group's funds flowed into the stock market, targeting plummeting stocks. Only after executing these transactions did Isabella feel a sense of vindication.

Having done all this, Isabella took a shower and slept contentedly, bracing herself for the engagement ceremony with that detestable old man, as arranged by The Sterling, the following day.

The next evening, Sterling Manor was all set, the invitations having been sent out early. Being just an adopted daughter, there was no need for extravagance—a few close friends and relatives would suffice to keep up appearances.

Isabella was stationed at the entrance to greet the guests. Despite her mental preparation, her stomach couldn’t help but churn at the sight of the short, fat, balding greasy man stepping out of the car.

The Sterlings really weren't picky.

This was Oliver, the man The Sterling intended to marry her off to, a nouveau riche who made his fortune in real estate.

Isabella’s gaze deepened as she approached confidently, extending her hand in greeting.

“You must be Mr. Vanderbilt. My name is Isabella, your fiancée.”

Oliver glanced at her, his eyes widening in shock. He had seen Isabella before, but back then, her plain appearance hardly caught his eye.

Today, however, with just a change of clothes and a touch of makeup, she seemed transformed, as if reborn.

Internally, Oliver rejoiced, thinking he had struck an incredible bargain.

Lost in his thoughts, he felt a delicate hand on his shoulder, and the next moment, Isabella whispered in his ear, her breath almost making him weak at the knees.

“Mr. Vanderbilt, thank you so much for the great favor you’ve done for The Sterling.”

“We’re practically family now, no need for such formalities…”

Oliver’s mind raced with thoughts of quickly getting through the engagement ceremony to cherish the beauty before him. However, Isabella’s next words sent a chill down his spine.

“Of course, I’m grateful. Marrying you means I won’t have to serve those disgusting men anymore.”

Serve... other men?!

Even Oliver, with his limited understanding, grasped the insinuation. He had heard rumors about The Sterling’s adopted daughter being marginalized, but he never imagined she was implied to be involved in such demeaning activities!

Isabella maintained a calm demeanor, as if discussing something utterly mundane.

The Sterlings had groveled before him, seeking his investment to save themselves from financial ruin. He agreed, thinking it a simple business transaction. Now, to be deceived with someone considered undesirable by society, felt like an utmost betrayal!