Chapter 457

"Isabella, don't stress. I'll get someone on it right away. Did something happen? Why do you need to find him so urgently?"

Atticus was one of the few who knew Michael's secret, so when Isabella mentioned wanting to see Michael, his first thought was that something had gone wrong.

Isabella didn't have time to explain everything, so she quickly shared the information she had with Atticus.

"Uncle Atticus, I just heard that the Brown Group's had a major shake-up. Michael's been kicked out of his position. He must be feeling awful right now."

"You know he got hurt because of me. If something happens to him now, I won't be able to live with myself."

The real reason, however, was something Isabella was too embarrassed to admit.

Over the years, she hadn't been able to care about anyone else. Michael's every move affected her deeply. Even though he had never really fulfilled his role as a husband during their marriage, and his treatment of her was inconsistent, her concern for him had become an unspoken habit. She could only attribute it to their fateful encounter years ago.

Right now, she just needed to know he was safe. Everything else could wait.

Atticus, for once, didn't press further. "Got it. I'll send someone to check right away. Don't worry, I'll update you as soon as I have news."

"Thank you, Uncle Atticus."

Isabella breathed a sigh of relief. She had also kept the matter with Nolan from Atticus. Michael's safety was her top priority; she would deal with Nolan later.

Within ten minutes, Isabella received a message. It was brief.

[Starlit Tavern.]

Michael's usual haunt.

Seeing the location, Isabella quickly changed clothes, went to the garage, and drove to the tavern as fast as she could. Once inside, she headed straight to the front desk to ask for Michael's room.

The receptionist pointed to the far end of the hallway.

Isabella thanked her and, in her red high heels, hurried down the hall. Before she even reached the door, she was startled by the loud, angry voices coming from inside.

"Drink! Keep drinking! No one leaves until we're all drunk!"

"Did you hear me? No one leaves!"

Isabella knew she had found the right place just by the sound of his voice. She had only been a little late, and Michael had already drunk himself into a stupor.

Then, a sweet, delicate voice came from the room.

"Mr. Michael Brown, it's not that we don't want to drink with you, but why are you doing this to yourself? No matter how upset you are, you shouldn't neglect your health."

"Yes, Mr. Michael Brown, you've had so much already. If you keep drinking, your body won't be able to take it. Please, stop."

But a drunken Michael wasn't listening. He waved his hand, pushing everyone away.

"Get out! I don't need your advice. If you won't drink, then leave!"

"Get out!"

The sound of breaking bottles and women's screams filled the room. The next moment, the door to the private room burst open, and people rushed out, eager to escape. Only Michael, sprawled on the sofa and completely out of it, and the woman who had been trying to comfort him remained.

The woman, taking advantage of Michael's drunken state, was busy unbuttoning his shirt, hoping to seize the opportunity to climb the social ladder. She didn't even notice Isabella standing outside.

Isabella, in her high heels, stepped over the broken glass and walked straight to Michael.

At that moment, he was frowning and impatiently pushing the woman away. "Didn't I tell you to leave? If you're not drinking, don't get in my way."

"Mr. Brown, I just didn't want you to drink alone. I wanted to keep you company."

The woman's soft hands climbed onto his shoulders, her body writhing seductively in front of him. Michael's status was well-known, and any woman who saw him wanted to use him to get ahead.

"He doesn't need company, especially not from someone like you!"

A cold voice came from behind. The woman froze and turned to see Isabella, dressed in a red coat, her delicate features cold and stern.

"You're the daughter of the Wilson Family?"

Thanks to the media, Isabella was always recognized wherever she went.

Isabella couldn't stand the sight of the woman clinging to Michael. She pointed to the door.

"You're not needed here. Leave."

People in this line of work were all about the money, and Isabella didn't want to make things too difficult for her. So, she spoke as politely as she could.

But the woman saw Isabella as an easy target. Instead of leaving, she acted like she owned the place.

"How ridiculous. Why should I leave just because you say so?"

"Mr. Brown paid me to be here with him. He's not done yet, so why should I go? If anyone should leave, it's you. Who do you think you are?"

The woman adjusted her strap and looked Isabella up and down with a mocking smile.

"I say Ms. Taylor, you're no longer his wife. You two are divorced, yet here you are, chasing him to a bar. It's the first time I've seen something like this."

"To be blunt, even if we did something, what could you do about it?"

Isabella's eyes darkened at her words. She was right. Isabella had no standing to demand that Michael not be with other women. She had never had the power to make him do anything for her. But as the eldest daughter of the Wilson Family, she had never encountered such an insolent woman.

She raised an eyebrow, her face expressionless.

"You're right. Michael and I are divorced. I have no right to control what he does or to make you leave. But..."

The woman on the sofa looked smug. "But what? You just said you have no right."

Before she could finish, Isabella, in her high heels, stepped up to her. The woman, sitting down, felt an overwhelming pressure as Isabella loomed over her, making her too scared to look up.

At that moment, Isabella's cold voice sounded above her.

"I gave you a chance, and you didn't take it. So don't blame me for exercising my rights."

Isabella took out her phone. Within seconds, the door to the private room burst open with a bang. A group of men in black security uniforms rushed in, followed by a pale-faced manager.

"Ms. Taylor, I didn't know you were here. It's all my fault."

Isabella didn't let him continue.

"Do you know how much Michael has drunk? If something happens to him here, can you take responsibility?"