Framed as an Escort? I Exposed Her

Leroy was pinned flat against the table. His face was distorted, but he still thrashed around.

"Let me go! Isabelle Huff, you psycho! I'm calling the cops! I'm suing you for assault!"

Seeing that I was actually using force, the relatives instinctively shrank back, though their mouths didn't stop running.

"She's lost it! She's getting violent!"

"High-class escort? She looks more like a mob enforcer!"

"She knows she's ruined, so she's just going crazy!"

Right then, the front door was kicked open from the outside.

With a deafening crash, the security door slammed against the wall, making everyone jump.

A tall, imposing figure stepped into the house.

He wore a long black trench coat over a gray tailored suit.

He was strikingly handsome, his brows and gaze exuding the authority of someone in charge.

It was Ian.

What was he doing here?

My heart skipped a beat. Then, I remembered my broken phone. The sudden disappearance of my GPS signal must have worried him.

The moment Ian walked in, his eyes swept over the chaotic living room before locking onto me.

When he saw that I was unharmed, the tension in his rigid shoulders eased ever so slightly.

But when his gaze shifted to Leroy pinned under my hand, and then to the relatives pointing and whispering, a violent storm erupted in his eyes.

The relatives had no idea they were looking at the richest heir of the city.

All they saw was an incredibly handsome, well-dressed man bursting through the door.

Jodie's eyes darted back and forth before she suddenly pointed at Ian and shrieked, "I remember now! I've seen this man's photo in the group chat! He's her top customer! The sugar daddy who keeps Isabelle! Oh my god, he actually tracked her down here? Is he here for another transaction?"

With one shout, she neatly labeled Ian.

Despite having his face glued to the table, Leroy managed to spit out a mouthful of bloody saliva and sneered. "Isabelle, you sure are busy, huh? Clients knocking down your door?

"Buddy, you look like a gentleman, but it turns out you're just a john. With skin that fair, you look like a pretty-boy parasite living off women. Are you being kept too?"

Ian froze dead in his tracks.

He slowly turned his head. The way he looked at Leroy was the way one looks at a dead man.

I knew that look all too well. It was the warning sign that he was ready to kill.

Ian stepped up to Leroy without a single word and raised his fist. That punch carried a terrifying force.

If it connected, Leroy would be lucky to escape with a severe disability, let alone permanent brain damage.

I immediately let go of Leroy and threw myself in front of Ian.

Reaching up, I grabbed his raised arm with everything I had. "Ian! Stop! Catching an assault charge over a piece of trash like him isn't worth it."

The raw violence in Ian's eyes finally began to recede under my gentle voice.

He flipped his hand to catch mine. His gaze fell on the red friction burns left on my wrist from the scuffle.

The sheer agony in his eyes made it look like he was the one bleeding.

"Did they hurt you?"

"I'm fine. It's just a scratch."

I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, then reached directly into his trench coat pocket and pulled out his phone.

Mine was broken, so his would have to do.

I deftly unlocked it, dialed a number, and hit speakerphone.

In the dead silence of the room, a gruff male voice rang out from the speaker. "Hello? Mr. Lowe? What are your orders?"

Since I was calling from Ian's phone, the man naturally assumed it was him.

I took a deep breath, instantly switching my voice back into official mode—cold, commanding, and absolute.

"This is Isabelle Huff. Declan, get everyone from Squad Two. Full tactical gear. I want you at my coordinates within five minutes. We're making an arrest on a Class-A wanted suspect for running a prostitution ring and large-scale fraud."