CHAPTER FOUR

ISABELLA’S POV

I took a deep breath as my eyes ran through the well-light room. Tables and chairs were in every corner of the room, and so were people I had never met until this moment. My fingers were trembling from the nervousness. This was an art competition, and I didn’t even know if I was supposed to be there. Mireille had submitted one of my Alaric paintings to sign up for this. I saw contestant number 5 doing his own thing, and the crowd cheered him on. According to rumours, there were ten participants, most of whom had influential people or knew the judges. In contrast, all I had was Mireille.

“I can’t do this,” I mumbled, and she immediately caught my palms in her, squeezing it gently.

“Of course, you can. I know what you are capable of, Isa. If you ever feel nervous, remember the one time I peed myself in front of my crush and didn’t do the same.”

I chuckled slightly, her words calming me a little.

“Contestant 6, come up stage.” I heard one of the judges say into the microphone, and my heart skipped a beat as I dragged my feet through the room, their eyes digging into my skin.

I was trembling, but every time I looked Mireille’s way, she would give me a thumbs up.

“Your question is A magnetic force. To heal or to mar. Yet so simple. You can proceed.”

Everywhere grew silent; the clock was ticking, and my heart was racing fast. The question ran over my mind repeatedly, and suddenly it clicked.

Love.

Picking up the brush and painting black, I drew the bridge over the magnitude water. The moon overseeing everything. I could hear the whispers, their thoughts of how wrong I could be.

Yet, I picked the red paint, drawing out the woman who hung onto the railing, her blood dropping into the ocean, and the man bowering over her, a glint of a smile on his lips with his knife dug into her hand.

I could feel my eyes well with tears, putting everything I felt into it. The pain that came with being betrayed. Love was a magnetic force, one that could throw you into the depths of hell, and it could also put you in the most beautiful paradise.

The silence had grown again.

“3 minutes left.”

I sniffed back my tears, made a last finishing and smiled weakly. This was it. This was the last time I would hurt myself to be with him. This painting was going to be the last piece of us.

Putting the brush down, I stepped away. My shoulders held high as I awaited their judgement. I knew that whatever it was, I wouldn’t let it or anyone pull me down.

The judges looked at one another and then mumbled something before the older male looked at me.

“You can return to your seat, Miss Isabella. We will get back to you.”

A tinge of disappointment seeped in, yet I didn’t let them see it as I walked down, returning to Mireille, who wouldn’t stop smiling. The next contestant climbed on stage.

“You did well,” Mireille mumbled, pulling me into a hug. “It will be a shame if they lose a talent like you.”

I forced on a smile, nodding. “Take me to your place, Mi.”

At first, I thought she would protest, but she doesn’t. She pulled me up and held me throughout our journey to the hotel elevator.

“No matter what the result is, you are amazing.”

I hummed in response and hugged her when the door dinged open.

“You slut!” I heard the familiar voice say, and I jerked my head up to see Alaric’s mother. She was dressed in a long green gown, holding a black while. Her face was heavily done, and her dark hair was rolled up. “Does my son know you are here embarrassing the family? Meeting a man in a hotel. I knew this friend of yours was a bad influence. I knew he shouldn’t have married you, but his father insisted because you drugged him. Elena was always perfect for him, not a nobody like you.” She eyed me badly. A man was standing beside her, who looked nothing like Alaric’s Father yet had just let go of her waist.

I scoffed, getting irritated. He wasn't worth it. She wasn't worth my peace of mind. None of them did. Mireille stepped forward to say something, and I squeezed her hand and then faced Vivian.

“Tell your son, my ex-husband, to sign the divorce papers and meet me in court on Monday. Now he can finally marry your precious Elena, and let’s hope she doesn't end up like you.” I snarled.

I was pissed, annoyed because, for years, I had to put up with her ill-treatment, her son’s misjudgement and her unending favouritism. Now, I was done pleasing them. Shots of adrenaline rushed through me.

I watched her face fall. She was speechless. She never ran out of words, so why now?

“Let’s go, Mi.”

The second we stepped out, I let out a breath. My body shook from the anger. And my anger was starting to morph into hate. Luckily, she found us a cab quickly and soon we were on our way home. I stared out the window, seeing the families walking, laughing and teasing one another. This had always been my dream. To be seen and loved in ways my parents never did. The air was a bit dry even though it was 5 in the evening. I ran my palm over my stomach again.

Suddenly, Mireille squealed, huffing as she shoved her phone before me.

“Miss Isabella.

We are delighted to inform you that you won the second position in the competition. Your art was a masterpiece that conveyed the message and touched the depth of hearts. The benefits are a chance to work with our talented artists for two years in New York. Accommodation. A car and more. Your flight leaves on Monday.”

My throat became dry, and slowly, tears of joy sprouted in my eyes. This was finally a chance to chase my dream.

“I told you could do it, Isa. Finally you have the chance to live the life Alaric didn't want.” She said, her voice softened. “And the divorce?”

I blink for a second at the realization of it. I had always dreamed of being an artist, of being known and heard. But Alaric and his parents demanded that I stay a full housewife. One who lived for just her husband and children. Even when I had complaints, I couldn't voice them out because a wife should endure.

I squeezed Mireille’s palm gently. “I have no feelings for Alaric anymore. Believe me, Mi. This is the last time I put anyone else first.” I assured her and looked away. “And I will make them pay.”