Chapter 1

The ballroom shimmered with opulence. Crystal chandeliers cast a golden glow over the elegantly dressed guests, their laughter and conversation blending seamlessly with the soft melody of a string quartet. The air carried the scent of roses and expensive perfume, mingling with the faint aroma of champagne. It was an evening of celebration—love, success, and a marriage that seemed picture-perfect.

At the heart of it all stood Isabella Marsden, the woman every woman envied.

She moved with effortless grace, the ivory gown hugging her figure in perfection. The diamonds at her throat caught the light, sending tiny prisms of color dancing across the polished marble floors. Her long, dark hair cascaded over one shoulder, framing a face that wore the perfect mask of happiness.

Tonight, she was the embodiment of perfection. The devoted wife. The admired socialite. The woman who had it all.

Across the room, Adrian Marsden held court, his presence commanding attention. In a fitted black tuxedo, he was striking—sharp-featured, confident, devastatingly handsome. People gravitated toward him, hanging on to his every word. He smiled easily, laughing at some joke made by a business associate, but then—his eyes found Isabella.

For a brief moment, their gazes locked.

And then, ever so smoothly, he raised his glass toward her in a silent toast.

To the world, they were a love story written in gold—untouchable, enviable. A fairytale come to life.

But only Isabella knew the truth.

Her fingers tightened around the champagne flute, the cold glass grounding her against the storm inside her chest. She hadn’t been meant to know. The messages, the photographs, the transactions—proof of her husband’s betrayal—weren’t meant to be in her hands.

And not just any woman.

Celeste Laurent.

A name that now made Isabella’s stomach twist. Celeste had always been in their world, another socialite, another face in the endless sea of privilege. Beautiful, poised, harmless.

Or so Isabella had believed.

But the images she had uncovered told a different story.

Adrian’s hand over Celeste’s at an intimate dinner. A weekend retreat under the guise of business. A luxury apartment—paid for by Marsden Enterprises.

The worst discovery of all?

A DNA test.

Twins. His children.

Not hers.

The knowledge had hit her like a freight train, shattering the perfect illusion she had once believed in.

She should have confronted him, demanded answers. Screamed, cried, done anything but what she had done.

She had smiled.

A warm hand slid around her waist, pulling her close. The scent of his cologne—sandalwood and dark spice, once so familiar and comforting—washed over her, but now, it only made her stomach turn.

“Happy anniversary, sweetheart,” Adrian murmured, his lips brushing against her temple.

Isabella turned, meeting his gaze, and lifted her chin. He kissed her softly, and the crowd erupted in applause.

She smiled.

But inside, she felt nothing.

Only the suffocating weight of betrayal.

“Happy anniversary,” she whispered back.

Adrian’s grip tightened slightly as he studied her. “You look breathtaking tonight. I can’t take my eyes off you.”

Did he say the same words to Celeste?

Did he hold her like this? Make her feel like she was the only woman in the world?

The thought made Isabella’s stomach churn.

“Dance with me,” Adrian said, his voice smooth as silk.

She hesitated for half a second before allowing him to guide her toward the center of the ballroom.

The music shifted, a tender love ballad filling the space. Isabella let him lead, their movements effortlessly synchronized, the picture of a devoted couple.

To the world, they were perfect.

To Isabella, it was a cruel joke.

A hollow ache settled deep within her, but she forced it down. She couldn’t break. Not tonight. Not here.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

Their marriage had been a symbol of power, a perfect union between two influential families. Adrian had been the devoted husband, charming and attentive, making her believe—if only for a while—that they had something real. He had given her everything: security, admiration, the illusion of love.

And now, he had taken everything away.

“You’re quiet,” Adrian murmured, his thumb grazing the back of her hand. “Are you happy, Bella?”

The same voice that had once made her feel safe now made her skin crawl.

She let out a soft laugh, effortlessly masking the turmoil within. “Of course.”

His smile was easy, practiced—but something flickered in his expression.

A hesitation. Did he suspect? Did he know that she knew?

She held his gaze, her fingers tracing the back of his neck in a practiced motion of intimacy. A lie in the shape of affection.

“I was just thinking,” she said, her voice smooth as honey, “about how much I love you.”

Adrian grinned, but Isabella saw through the illusion.

The dance ended, and the guests erupted in applause. Adrian lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to her knuckles.

She should have felt something. But all she felt was cold.

Chapter 2

Adrian left for some business partners. Her eyes flashed around the opulent ballroom, Nobody appeared to be out of place. Talk was flowing, laughter was resonating, and Adrian was standing a few steps away, charming a group of investors with ease.

Isabella's fingers clenched around the glass's fragile stem.

Her spine tingled with a profound sensation of uneasiness. She was no longer the only focus of this.

She blew out gently, trying to keep a straight face. Neither tonight nor here would there be a scene. However, she would no longer hold back once they were home.

Adrian would finally have to confront the reality tonight.

The drive home felt oppressive.

With one arm casually slung along the seat, Adrian sat next to her in the rear of their elegant black limousine. With his other hand, he browsed through his phone and responded to messages, most likely related to work or anything significant.

As she gazed out the tinted glass, Isabella watched the city lights flicker by.

Her thoughts were racing.

There was no denying the evidence.

Adrian's personal account was always used to pay for the receipts from upscale hotels that were under Celeste's name. The texts were full of whispered promises and late-night meetings. He had created a second existence there, in the apartment lease.

The DNA results are the most damning evidence of all.

Furthermore, Isabella was completely unaware of their existence.

Her throat constricted.

She turned to face him, the guy to whom she had dedicated her life. She had given everything she had to the guy she had defended, loved, and fought for.

Feeling her gaze, he looked up and gave her a slight smile. "You’re quiet."

Isabella's heart was screaming, but she forced herself to smile back. "Just tired."

Adrian's eyes grew softer. His thumb lightly brushed her wedding band as he grabbed for her hand. "Tonight was wonderful. You were flawless.

The harsh laugh that threatened to burst out of her throat was swallowed. Did he also tell Celeste that?

The vehicle arrived at their estate's lengthy driveway. The mansion's tall windows glowed warmly as it loomed in the darkness. The ideal house for the ideal pair.

However, it would be reduced to a battlefield tonight.

Isabella turned abruptly as soon as they entered, her voice breaking the stillness.

"Sit down."

Adrian's eyebrows went up. "What?"

"Sit. Down."

He paused at something in her tone. He lowered himself slowly onto the spotless white couch in the living room after unbuttoming his jacket. Tension crackled in the air between them.

Isabella remained seated. Her fists were gripped at her sides as she stood in front of him, her heart thumping in her chest.

"I know, Adrian."

The words cut through the delusion they had been living in for years.

Adrian's forehead wrinkled a little. "Know what?"

Her laugh was hollow and icy. "Avoid doing that. Don't make fun of me. Don't tell lies.

He kept a neutral expression. "Bella, you’re not making any sense."

After taking her phone out of her purse, she held it up and tapped the screen. The void between them was filled with pictures of Adrian and Celeste in a restaurant, his hand on hers. He had rented her a separate apartment, and Adrian was leaving it.

And then, the final image—a quick shot of two kids.

Adrian's face could not be read. He tilted his head and leaned back a little. "Where did you get these?"

Isabella gasped for air. Don't deny. No surprise. Simply remain calm.

She clenched her fingers around the phone. "So it’s true."

They were silent for a long time.

Adrian then ran a hand through his dark hair and let out a deep exhale. "I never wanted to hurt you, Bella."

Her vision blurred as she exhaled sharply. However, you did. You ruined me.

His elbows rested on his knees as he leaned forward. "It’s not what you think."

Unshed tears blazed in her eyes. "Not what I think?" With a wave of disbelief, she shook her head. "There is another life for you. A mistress. Kids. How come I don't think that?

Adrian's face was unreadable as he stroked his fingers over it. "It was difficult for Celeste and me. It took place prior to our marriage.

She stopped.

Previously?

Her thoughts were racing, figuring out the years and the chronology. The twins were two years old. That implied—

"You knew." She hardly raised her voice above a whisper. "You married me knowing you had children with another woman."

Adrian remained silent.

The last betrayal was the stillness.

Isabella thought her lungs had been robbed of their air. She stepped back unsteadily. "Why?"

Adrian stood, immediately oppressed by his imposing presence. "Because I love you."

She shook her head and laughed. "Love? "You refer to this as love?"

His mouth tightened. "This was not something I had anticipated happening. I have no intention of—"

"To get caught?"

She merely needed his quiet as an answer.

Her vision was obscured by tears, but she resisted letting them go. She refused to shatter—not in his presence.

She pivoted on her heel and made her way to the stairs.

"Bella—wait."

At the bottom of the steps, she stopped and clutched the railing until her knuckles were white. "Do they call you ‘Daddy’?"

Like a loaded pistol, the question lingered between them.

Adrian took a deep breath. He didn't respond.

He was not required to.

Something deep within her was broken by the silence.

Isabella forced herself to breathe, swallowing the lump in her throat.

She left Adrian standing in the living room, alone, and went upstairs without saying another word.

The crushing weight of his betrayal descended over him.

Adrian Marsden had a sensation that was dangerously near to terror for the first time.

Chapter 3

Isabella was sitting on the chaise couch in her bedroom, gazing out of the floor-to-ceiling windows at the metropolitan skyline. She hardly knew the lady whose hollow face was reflected in the glass. Three days had passed since the altercation.

Her world had fallen apart three days prior.

Not even the house staff, who knocked courteously every morning and offered her meals that she never touched, had talked to her or left her room.

On the nightstand, behind an unfinished meal from the previous evening, was a plate of unfinished breakfast. Her stomach rumbled with hunger, but she ignored it. She wasn't sure if she wanted to continue eating, so she didn't.

It had been impossible to sleep. She saw them each time she closed her eyes.

Celeste and Adrian.

The pictures. The invoices. The twins. His kids.

She had experienced all phases of grieving, including heartbreak, anger, and denial, but now she had just one thing left.

emptiness.

A gentle knock reverberated around the room on the fourth morning.

"Sweetheart?"

Isabella tensed: Adrian.

He spoke softly and calmly, as though nothing had happened.

She didn't respond.

He didn't enter even though the door creaked open a little. "You haven't had any food. You must look for yourself.

She nearly let out a sour laugh. Look after herself?

Her knuckles whitened as she held the silk sheets under her fingertips. How could he act as like nothing was wrong?

Adrian let out a sigh. "I understand that you're upset, Bella. However, isolating oneself won't resolve the issue. We ought to speak.

Speak? He wanted to chat now?

Her voice was scratchy from days of solitude as she gently turned her head. "Go away, Adrian."

After a moment of hesitation, he let out a quiet exhale. "I’ll be downstairs if you need me."

The door closed with a click.

Isabella forced herself not to cry as she clamped her eyes shut.

For three days, things had been this way.

Nevertheless, Adrian arrived home simultaneously. continued to behave like the loyal husband. Nevertheless, she texted her phone good night.

But she knew exactly where he was headed as soon as he left for work.

To her.

Isabella sat still that afternoon, browsing through her phone.

There were so many unread texts in her inbox. Some were from well-meaning friends who were worried about her abrupt silence following their anniversary celebration. Some were from her mother-in-law, reminding her of a charity function that was coming up. Adrian didn't.

There was no need for him to text her. He was down the hall acting like a husband.

A notification appeared as she was ready to lock the device.

An unknown number. An attachment with a video.

Isabella tapped it open and frowned.

Her heart ceased beating.

Heavenly.

Celeste, wearing a silk robe that barely covered her body, started the film by calibrating the camera. The scene—the palatial condo Adrian had purchased for her—was all too familiar.

Celeste gave the lens a languid smile.

"I thought Isabella, you ought to see this. because it appears that you still think your husband is yours.

The screen moved.

And there he was.

Adrian.

Isabella's throat tightened each breath.

The guy who declared his love for her. She was misled by the man who told her everything. The man who pretended that nothing had changed in their life.

Adrian was seen in the video leaning on the bed while holding a glass of whiskey. He was only wearing dark pants. He still wore his wedding ring.

Celeste climbed onto his lap and purred, "You're so tense tonight."

Adrian tipped his head back a little and laughed. Isabella had fallen in love with the same laugh.

"Maybe because my wife is suspicious."

Celeste touched his jawline with her fingers. "Darling, she already knows. Why don't you simply release her?

Adrian grinned.

"Because she’s mine."

The video ended.

Isabella's lungs tightened as she sat still.

As if she had been branded, her skin scorched.

This actually happened. Everything.

She had been stuck in grief for days, wondering whether Adrian would choose her, if he regretted his decision, or if he had made a mistake.

However, he had already responded to that query in the seclusion of another woman's bed.

"Because she’s mine."

A claim of possession. Not affection.

Something snapped inside her.

She set the phone on the table slowly, gazing at it as though it were about to blow up.

A profound, unnerving serenity enveloped her.

She had two options.

She was welcome to remain.

Permit him to deceive her. Give her to him. While she suffocated under the mirage of the ideal marriage, let the world believe in it.

Or...

She was free to go.

Not as Adrian had anticipated. Not during a tumultuous divorce that he would use to his benefit.

Asking for answers he would never provide, but not in tears.

No. He would be ruined by the manner she would go.

She stood up, initially shaky on her feet. But suddenly, with her head held high, she straightened.

She was aware of her obligations.

He would never see the Isabella Marsden he had known.

She grabbed up her phone and typed quickly with her fingers.

Just one message. One person she could rely on.

“Keira I need your assistance.” But no inquiries. Simply answer "yes."

A few seconds went by.

Then—

Keira: In agreement.

With a sigh, Isabella put her phone in her pocket.

She felt alive for the first time in days.

The faint hum of the metropolis outside her bedroom window felt distant, almost surreal. Her hands did not shake, but her heart beat steadily. No more.

She was done. There was no going back.

The strategy was well underway.

Everything had been managed by Keira, including the plane disaster, paperwork, and transportation.

Isabella Marsden will be gone by tomorrow.