Betrayed and Claimed by the Lycan King Chapter 326

Isolde's POV

The sleek black car pulled up to the entrance of Silver Moon Group's conference center, and I felt my stomach clench with apprehension. A security guard approached and opened my door with practiced efficiency.

"Thank you," I murmured, stepping out onto the sidewalk and immediately inhaling the crisp afternoon air. The city buzzed around me, but all I could focus on was the imposing glass structure before me.

I ran my fingers through my windswept chestnut curls, trying to tame them back into some semblance of order. My eyes swept the area, taking in the luxury cars dropping off other participants. Designers and their team members emerged from sleek vehicles, their faces wearing the same confused expression I probably had.

*What the hell is this about?*

My heart hammered against my ribs as I watched the steady stream of people filing toward the conference center entrance. The email had been cryptic—an urgent meeting called by the competition committee for all remaining participants. On a Sunday afternoon, no less.

"Isolde!"

I turned to see Holden jogging toward me, his laptop bag bouncing against his hip. His usually styled hair looked disheveled, and there was a tension in his jaw that mirrored my own anxiety.

"Thank God you're here," he said, slightly out of breath. "The rest of the Liberty Designs team is already inside. Any idea what this is about?"

We fell into step together, joining the flow of people heading toward the main entrance.

"Not a clue," I replied, scanning the crowd. "But look around—no design materials, no setup stations. That's a good sign, right?"

Holden's eyes followed my gaze, and I saw some of the tension leave his shoulders. "Yeah, you're right. So what do you think—important announcement about the finals?"

I nodded, though something in my gut still felt wrong. We found our designated seats in the main hall, and I settled into the plush chair, trying to shake off my unease. The murmur of confused voices filled the space as more participants took their seats.

*At least no one seems to be gossiping about me and Ezra,* I thought with relief.

Holden shifted restlessly beside me, and I could practically feel his frustration radiating off him in waves.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered, pulling out his phone and scowling at the screen. "They couldn't just post this on the designer forum? I had plans today."

"Tsk." The sound of disapproval escaped him as he shook his head, clearly agitated.

I couldn't help but smile despite my own anxiety. "You know what's funny? You're more worked up about this than I am, and I'm the one actually competing."

Holden turned to look at me with the kind of exasperated expression usually reserved for girlfriends who were being completely unreasonable. He didn't say a word, just stared at me with furrowed brows.

The silence stretched between us, and I found his grumpy expression absolutely adorable. "You know, you look particularly cute when you're frowning like that."

His response was to roll his eyes dramatically and let out a long-suffering groan. Without another word, he pulled out his wireless earphones and deliberately put them in, making a show of ignoring me.

I bit back a laugh. *Well, I definitely hit a nerve there.* Holden's ego was clearly bruised, and I had a feeling he wouldn't be speaking to me for the rest of the meeting.

The hall had filled to capacity now, with barely an empty seat in sight. Then, suddenly, the conversational buzz died down to whispers as figures began filing onto the stage.

My breath caught as I recognized the familiar sight of the competition judges taking their positions. Jeremy Wright, the head judge, strode to the podium with his characteristic confidence. Even from this distance, his presence commanded attention.

The hall fell completely silent.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Wright began, his voice carrying easily through the sound system. "Thank you all for coming on such short notice. I want to assure you that this meeting was called for a very serious reason."

"We are here today to address an extremely disturbing violation that has come to our attention. A type of behavior that was explicitly prohibited from the very beginning of this competition."

My heart started racing. Violation? What kind of violation?

"Earlier this week, before Monday's competition round could begin," Wright continued, his voice taking on a harder edge, "equipment belonging to the Liberty Designs team was deliberately sabotaged, preventing them from working effectively."

A collective gasp rippled through the audience. I felt Holden stiffen beside me, and whispers began breaking out around us.

My team and I exchanged shocked glances. Hearing it announced so formally, in front of everyone, made the violation feel even more real and vicious.

"Our security team has completed a thorough investigation," Wright announced, his tone becoming dangerously cold. "And I'm afraid to say that we have identified the individual responsible for orchestrating this attack."

The entire hall seemed to hold its breath.

"Furthermore," Wright's voice cut through the silence like a blade, "the person who planned this sabotage is in this room with us today."

Chaos erupted. Designers and team members began murmuring frantically to each other, heads turning as people tried to spot the guilty party. I felt my own heart hammering as I looked around, trying to process what I was hearing.

*Someone actually risked being permanently blacklisted by Silver Moon Group just to sabotage me?* The thought was almost incomprehensible. The power that Ezra and his organization wielded was absolute. Anyone foolish enough to cross them would find themselves shut out of every major opportunity in the industry.

"Now," Wright said, his voice cutting through the nervous chatter, "I will be announcing the name of the individual responsible. And I want that person to step forward."

I could barely breathe. My hands were clenched so tightly in my lap that my knuckles had gone white.

Wright raised his hand for silence, and the hall immediately complied.

"EW Design's CEO and lead designer," he announced with cold precision, "Ms. Ivy Price. Please step forward."

Every head in the room turned toward one section, and my gaze followed automatically.

And there she was.

The blonde woman who had been a thorn in my side at every industry event I'd attended. I should have known.

Rage bloomed hot and fierce in my chest as recognition clicked into place. Of course it was her.