After years of enduring an abusive marriage, Isabelle Rivers discovers a shocking truth: her husband has another family. Betrayed by the people she trusted most, she escapes only to find herself at the mercy of her past and the threats that follow. A fateful encounter with her childhood friend-turned-billionaire, Liam Anderson, sets her on a path of healing and rediscovery. But as old wounds resurface and dangerous secrets unravel, Isabelle must decide whether to trust a man again or walk away for good.
Lihat lebih banyakThe mansion buzzed with a quiet kind of excitement. The long dining table was set with care—silver cutlery gleaming under the golden glow of the chandeliers, delicate flower arrangements gracing the center. The aroma of seasoned lamb and buttery pastries wafted through the air, hinting at the feast to come.Isabelle stood near the front door, hands clasped nervously in front of her. She had dreamed of this day—having everyone she loved under one roof again. After all she had endured—the loss, the memory gaps, the painful separation from Liam—this moment felt like a long-awaited exhale.And right now? She was glowing.Liam walked past her with a wine glass in hand, stealing a kiss on her cheek.“Stop looking so nervous,” he whispered, grinning. “They’re not coming to judge you. They're coming to love you.”She swatted his arm playfully. “I know, I know. But still... it feels surreal.”First to arrive was Mary Jane, the warm, kind-hearted housekeeper who’d become more like family. She w
Isabelle stirred slowly, the warmth of Liam’s arms wrapped protectively around her. The early sun filtered through the curtains, casting soft lines across the sheets. Her phone buzzed on the nightstand.With a soft groan, she reached out for it, trying not to wake him.Frank.She swiped to answer. “Hello?”“It’s almost 7:30, Isa. Remember the reporters. You meet them at 9:30.”“Yeah… thanks for the reminder,” she said softly.As she ended the call and set the phone down, Liam shifted behind her, pulling her closer with a sleepy murmur.“Where are you going…?” he whispered, his voice husky.She turned to face him, brushing her fingers through his hair. “To tell my truth.”“I don’t want you to leave yet…” he murmured, resting his forehead against hers.“I have to.” She smiled gently and kissed him. “But I’ll come back to you.”He held her gaze. “Should I go with you?”“No,” she whispered. “This… I want to do myself.”He sighed, then reluctantly let her slip from his embrace.—A few hou
The front door creaked open as Liam stepped inside, shoulders sagging under the weight of exhaustion. The house was quiet, too quiet. He called out softly, "Isabelle?"No response.He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Maybe he was imagining things again, letting hope trick him into thinking she'd magically stay since she said she was coming to check the house. But then—there it was. The faint clinking of a spoon against porcelain, coming from the kitchen.Liam's heart jumped. He moved swiftly, quietly, not daring to believe.There she was.Standing by the kitchen counter, back turned to him, wearing his hoodie. Her hair fell over her shoulders in soft waves, and she was stirring tea. Calmly. Casually. As if nothing had happened."Isa?" he breathed.She turned.Their eyes met.It felt like the world slowed down. Her lips parted, her eyes welled with tears, but her expression was warm. Familiar." Wanted to see if your hoodie fits me now." She smiled, tugging at the hoodie she was w
The night was quiet, too quiet for Isa’s restless mind.She tossed in bed, limbs tangled in the sheets, her breath uneven. In the silence, her dreams stirred.In that dream, she was back in that cold, dark house.Richard’s voice thundered in her ears, cruel and venomous.“You think you can disobey me?” he snarled, hand raised. His palm connected harshly with her cheek. The sting was real. Her knees buckled, and she crumbled to the ground, sobbing.Richard towered over her with a face twisted by rage. He was yelling. No—screaming. Words she couldn’t decipher, fists clenched. She was crying, shielding herself from the blows he rained down on her like a stormThe pain. The shame. The betrayal.Isa gasped and bolted upright in bed, drenched in sweat. Her hand flew to her chest, her heart hammering like a drum. “It was just a dream,” she whispered. “Just a dream…”But it hadn’t felt like a dream. It was vivid. It was sharp. The emotions still clung to her like smoke after fire.She reache
The living room was dimly lit, the soft hum of the air conditioning the only sound echoing through the space. Richard sat alone, nursing frustration in his chest like an old wound that refused to heal. A half-finished glass of water sat untouched on the table beside him. It wasn’t enough—not tonight.He stared blankly ahead, mind spinning with thoughts of Isabelle.She had gone to bed hours ago. Peaceful. Silent. Untouched.The problem was… he wanted to touch her. He wanted to kiss her until she remembered everything. Until she remembered him.But she didn’t. Or maybe she did—and was pretending.He wasn’t sure what was worse.Richard grabbed his phone and dialed a number he knew would answer. It rang only once.“Laura,” he said, his voice low, tired. “Can you come over?”A pause.“Now?” she asked, surprised.“Yeah. And bring something strong. Alcoholic wine. The kind that numbs things.”“I’ll be there in twenty.”---It was closer to fifteen.The doorbell rang, and Richard rose, brush
The air was warm, the scent of lavender faint and lingering. Isabelle stirred slowly, her lashes fluttering as she blinked her eyes open. A ceiling she didn’t recognize greeted her—a smooth white expanse with subtle carvings, the kind of detail that hinted at elegance and time. Her body was nestled into soft sheets, and as she shifted slightly, a faint sense of déjà vu pricked at her.She sat up slowly, confusion painting her face. This place—where was she?It wasn’t familiar… but it didn’t feel strange either.Her eyes scanned the room. Cream-colored walls, soft curtains swaying by the windows, a dresser lined with photos turned away, a full-length mirror positioned directly in front of the bed. Something about the mirror pulled her in. Her heartbeat quickened as a flicker of a memory danced through her mind—sitting in front of that mirror, smiling at her reflection. Then, a man’s reflection appeared behind her in the memory, lying on the bed, gazing at her with love in his eyes.Her
Sunlight filtered through the curtains of the unfamiliar room, warming the side of Isabelle's face as she slowly opened her eyes. Her lashes fluttered, then her eyes fully opened, and she stared at the pale blue ceiling above her. The sheets wrapped around her were crisp and smelled faintly of lavender. Her gaze swept across the room—white walls, minimal décor, a large mirror on one end, and a single framed photo on the nightstand. A wedding photo of her and Richard.That was the only photo in the room. In fact, now that she thought of it, the whole house seemed bare, emotionless, like a showpiece rather than a lived-in home.Isabelle sat up slowly, confusion clouding her expression. If I’ve really lived here for four years… why doesn’t it feel like home? She hadn’t even figured out where the toilet was without exploring yesterday. The bed, the furniture, even the scent of the room—it all felt foreign.Her eyes dropped to the handbag on the armchair beside the bed. She reached for it,
Isabelle looked at herself in the mirror. The reflection staring back at her wore soft blue jeans and a cream-colored blouse—finally something other than a hospital gown after weeks. It should’ve made her feel better. It didn’t.She forced a small smile and stepped out of the bathroom. Richard was seated on the couch in the hospital room, scrolling through his phone. He immediately stood up when he saw her."Hey, shall we go?" he asked, eyes lighting up.Isabelle hesitated. "Uhm, are you done with my whole discharge process?"Richard nodded confidently. "Yeah, I am. Why?"She frowned, feigning a pained expression. "Babe, I think I'm still having headaches. Can you tell the doctor and see if I can get some medicine from the pharmacy?"Richard's smile didn't falter. "Pain? I can't allow that. Let's go together, so you can explain to him well."She shook her head, pressing her fingers to her temple. "I'm a bit tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night. Can you go alone? I’ll wait here. J
Richard and Isabelle returned to the room, Richard still holding her protectively, like she would disappeare into Liam's arms if he doesn't hold her that way. Estella was in the room, pacing around, waiting for them. As soon as they entered, she sighed." When did you go out?! Do you have any idea how hard it was to look for you? I almost made a fool out of myself with the nurses." Estella shouted.Isabelle smiled slightly. " I told you I was stepped out for some air, you probably didn't hear me because you were so focused on your phone."Estella rolled her eyes. " If I didn't give you permission, you weren't supposed to step out! Isn't that how it works?"" Hey!" Richard shouted at Estella. " Don't talk to her that way. Because she's sick and you're watching over her for a while doesn't mean you're older or better. Know your place." He said with a stern expression on his face.Estella went quiet for a while before apologizing to Isabelle for speaking to her harshly, not that she me
Isabelle Rivers ran her fingers over the edge of the glossy wedding photo sitting on the table. She stared at the couple in the frame, their smiles frozen in time. The woman in the photo looked like a stranger—red-head, bright-eyed, radiant, and full of hope. Hope that had drained away, a long time ago. The reflection in the mirror beside the photo told a different story. She was the same woman in the picture but this time, she looked totally different. She was pale, she had dark circles around her eyes, and her lips were pressed into a thin, resigned line.The house around her was silent, except for the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. Richard hadn’t come home last night. It wasn't the first night that he had done this, but it hurt her every night. More so, when he didn't apologize or give a reason why he didn't come home. She tried not to think about where he had been or, more painfully, who he might have been with, but she couldn't help it. She also couldn't bring hers...
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