Reborn Heiress Is Remarrying
Chapter 121: Time To Set The Traps

Chapter 121: Time To Set The Traps

Chapter 121:

The whiskey in her glass had long been forgotten, her mind racing with questions.

Gabriel’s fingers traced slow patterns along her back, right over the scars she had carried for so long.

It was a silent comfort, one she hadn’t realised she needed until now.

"You’re thinking too hard," Gabriel murmured against her hair.

Diane smirked, tilting her head up to look at him. "You always say that."

He chuckled softly, his dark eyes studying her. "Because it’s always true."

Diane exhaled. "I have a plan."

Gabriel arched a brow. "Of course, you do."

Diane sat up slightly, rolling her shoulders before turning fully to face him.

"Victor wants power. Isla wants relevance. Both of them are desperate. That makes them reckless."

Gabriel leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "Go on."

Diane’s lips curled. "We give them what they want."

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. "Explain."

Diane reached for her laptop, pulling up financial records she had been analyzing for some time.

"Victor has spent years building himself up politically, cleaning up every loose end that could ever connect him to corruption. But there’s something he can’t hide—his funding."

Gabriel’s jaw tightened. "Illegal money?"

Diane nodded. "Exactly. His hands aren’t as clean as he pretends. And Isla? She’s been using her father’s name to pull strings, but she has nothing of her own."

Gabriel’s smirk returned. "So, we pit them against each other."

Diane’s eyes gleamed. "We make Isla think Victor is cutting her out faster than he actually is. We feed her just enough real information to push her over the edge."

Gabriel exhaled. "And then?"

Diane’s smile was dangerous. "Then we watch her burn everything down for us."

Later That Night – Bedroom

Diane sat at the edge of the bed, running her fingers over the fresh medical reports Gabriel had handed her.

Scar treatment.

Something she had tried before. Something that didn’t have time to work.

Gabriel leaned against the doorway, watching her carefully. "What are you thinking?"

Diane traced a hand down her arm. "That I shouldn’t get my hopes up."

Gabriel sighed, stepping forward and kneeling in front of her. "Diane."

She met his gaze.

He reached for her hand, pressing a kiss to her wrist. "I know you don’t believe in miracles. But this isn’t about fixing anything." His voice softened. "It’s about healing."

Diane swallowed hard. "Gabriel, I—"

He shook his head. "Just think about it."

Diane exhaled, brushing her fingers against his jaw. "You really don’t give up, do you?"

Gabriel smirked. "Not when it comes to you."

Diane leaned forward, pressing her lips to his.

And for the first time in years?

She wanted to hope...

The next morning, Diane sat in the sleek black car as it wove through the streets of the city.

The plan was already forming in her mind, every move calculated, every possible outcome weighed.

Beside her, Gabriel was reviewing messages on his phone, his expression unreadable.

He hadn’t said much since they left the penthouse, but Diane could feel his mind working, always ten steps ahead, just like hers.

She tapped her fingers against the leather seat. "Are you sure you want to let me handle Isla?"

Gabriel smirked but didn’t look up from his phone. "I wouldn’t dream of taking that away from you."

Diane scoffed. "Good. Because I want her to feel it."

Gabriel finally looked at her, his dark eyes sharp with amusement. "That’s what I love about you."

Diane arched a brow. "What?"

"The way you don’t pretend to be the better person."

Diane smirked, turning to the window as the city skyline blurred past. "I never claimed to be."

The car slowed as they approached a luxury hotel downtown—the kind of place Isla would go when she wanted to remind people she still mattered.

Diane didn’t wait for Gabriel’s approval.

She stepped out of the car, adjusting the silk blouse she wore, her heels clicking with purpose as she walked through the grand lobby.

-Hotel Lounge – Meeting Isla-

Isla was already waiting.

She sat near the window, sipping a mimosa like she didn’t have a care in the world, dressed in designer clothes and dripping with effortless wealth.

But Diane saw the truth.

The tension in her shoulders. The slight twitch of her perfectly manicured fingers against the glass.

Isla was losing control. And she knew it.

Diane slid into the seat across from her, offering a slow, amused smile. "You wanted to talk?"

Isla set her glass down. "I see you came alone."

Diane shrugged. "I didn’t think you’d try anything stupid."

Isla smirked. "Smart girl."

Diane tilted her head. "So, let’s hear it. What exactly do you think you can offer me?"

Isla’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. "I know my father is cutting me out." She leaned forward, her voice dropping lower. "And I know he’s planning something bigger than you realize."

Diane exhaled, feigning mild interest. "Go on."

Isla swirled the stem of her glass between her fingers.

"He’s making a deal. A major one. And when it’s done, you and Gabriel?" She smirked. "You’ll be irrelevant."

Diane arched a brow. "And you’re telling me this because...?"

Isla leaned back. "Because if I can’t have my father’s legacy, I’d rather burn it down."

Diane’s lips curled into a smirk.

Now that was something she could work with.

Diane leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand, studying Isla.

"So, let me get this straight—you want to betray your father, and you think I’m the best person to help you do it?"

Isla smirked, but there was an unease in her eyes.

"I think you and I have a common enemy. That makes us temporary allies."

Diane exhaled, tapping her nails against the table. "And what exactly do you want in return?"

Isla tilted her head. "A seat at the table."

Diane chuckled, low and cold. "You think there’s going to be a table left once I’m done?"

For the first time, Isla hesitated.

Diane leaned in, voice softer now, but no less dangerous. "You’re desperate, Isla. And desperate people make mistakes."

Isla’s jaw tightened. "And you’re so sure you won’t?"

Diane smirked. "I don’t lose."

A tense silence stretched between them.

Then—

Diane picked up her glass, swirling the liquid inside. "Fine. Let’s play."

Isla exhaled, her grip tightening around her mimosa.

Diane had her exactly where she wanted her.

Now?

It was time to set the trap.