Since his instinct told him something was up, it meant Isabella’s death wasn’t due to natural causes. Still, it was simple enough to see whether she was truly dead. Darius had a smile on his face as he walked to Sierra Stevens Soderbergh, whose breathing was almost undetectable.

He raised an eyebrow—now, he knew why Isabella had been so weak earlier despite her being only slightly weaker than him. As an enlightened martial artist, it was unfathomable for her to have sustained such serious injuries from a single cry, but now it seemed she’d sacrificed herself to protect Sierra.

Darius raised an eyebrow again. This conclusion seemed ludicrous, but it was the only one he could think of. Whatever the truth was, it wouldn’t change the result—Isabella was not a humane person with a conscience.

She had to have her reasons for protecting Sierra; perhaps she could’ve gotten something out of it. Darius frowned. He wanted to know what her motivations were—an enlightened martial artist’s body