Isabel’s POVEmerson suddenly grabbed my wrist. “Take it back, Isabel,” he repeated through gritted teeth. His grip on my wrist tightened. His desperation was clear in the way his fingers dug into my skin. The pain shot up my arm, forcing a sharp gasp from my lips.“Emerson, let go,” I demanded, my voice strained. The ache in my wrist was unbearable, but there was something more—something deeper—unraveling within me. His hold wasn’t just physical; it was a reminder of the control he had always sought to wield over me. “You’re hurting me!” I added in a desperate tone.He hesitated, his eyes flickering with something almost like regret, before his grip loosened. “Sorry...” he muttered, his voice low, barely audible over the wind. But then he added, more firmly, “But don’t ever say things like that. You won’t die. I won’t allow it.”I couldn’t help the bitter laugh that escaped my lips. His words, though seemingly filled with concern, only highlighted the cold, controlling nature of his
Isabel’s POVThe brooch was the only thing of value I had left. The delicate emerald piece had been passed down through Emerson's family. It was never meant to leave my possession, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Emerson’s grandmother had once owned the brooch. She was a proud and elegant lady, embodying a grace that few could match, even in her later years. When I met her, she was already advanced in age. Her silver hair was styled immaculately, and her blue eyes sharp with a lifetime of wisdom. The emerald brooch was pinned on her cashmere blouse. The piece had been a gift from her husband’s grandmother. The ancient brooch had been in the family for countless generations.“Hello, dear,” she had said, taking my hands in hers. “It’s good to finally meet a woman worthy of Emerson’s love.” I blushed at the compliment. Despite her frailty, she held herself with a dignity that made you forget her age.She passed away just a few weeks before our wedding. Her death left
Emerson’s POVI had told Isabel that Lilith wanted the necklace because I wanted to get a reaction out of her. It was a little game I played. A way to see if she still cared. But the truth was, I never told Lilith about the auction. Maybe it was out of some twisted selfishness; I didn’t want anyone, not even Lilith, to compete with Isabel for the necklace. It was the final reason she might still need me.I thought Isabel would reach out, ask for my help, make a move that would bring us back into each other's lives. But she didn’t.The day of the auction crept closer, and still, I hadn’t heard a word from her. It baffled me. Was she really going to let go of something so precious without a fight? Isabel, the woman who had once fought so fiercely for everything she held dear, was suddenly silent. I didn’t understand any of it.On the day of the auction, I made a last-minute decision to take Lilith with me. If Isabel wasn’t going to ask for my help, I might as well taunt her a little.
Emerson’s POVI had imagined countless ways Isabel might appear today. Would she come in quiet defiance, her eyes burning with resolve? Or perhaps she would be nervous, desperate for me to notice her struggle? But nothing could have prepared me for how beautiful she looked tonight.When Isabel walked in, time seemed to slow. She looked stunning, radiant even, reminding me of the woman she was when we first married. The same grace, the same fire in her eyes. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders in immaculate golden curls. Her deep blue gown hugged her figure in all the right ways. She looked like a queen among the crowd. Her presence commanded attention, yet she moved with a subtle grace that only someone like her could possess.My breath caught in my throat, and I hated myself for it. I also hated the way every man in the room seemed to notice her. Their eyes lingered on her as she moved. Their gazes were filled with something that made my blood boil—a mix of admiration and desire th
Isabel’s POVThe moment the brooch appeared on stage, my heart skipped a beat. I knew what it meant, not just to the auction, but to Emerson. It was more than just a piece of jewelry. It was a symbol of his family’s legacy, a treasure passed down through generations. I felt his eyes on me instantly, burning with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. When I met his gaze, it was as if he wanted to kill me. The fury in his eyes was unmistakable. A storm was brewing behind that steely exterior.But instead of fear, I felt something else—defiance. I wasn’t going to let him control me. Not anymore. I gave him a provocative smile, one that I knew would only fan the flames of his anger. Then, without a second thought, I got up from my seat and walked out. What happened next, I told myself, had nothing to do with me. Let him seethe. Let him rage. Let him bid until he gets it—or not. I was done being the passive participant in our twisted dance.Outside, the cool night air hit me lik
Isabel’s POVThe hospital loomed ahead. The taxi ride had been a blur, a whirlwind of fear and guilt that gnawed at my insides. Every turn of the wheels felt like an eternity. As we pulled up to the entrance, I threw some cash at the driver and stumbled out. I was still in my gown from last night. My heels clicked sharply against the pavement.I rushed through the sliding doors, my heart pounding in my chest. The fluorescent lights above buzzed, casting a harsh glow on everything they touched. My eyes darted around, searching, hoping, dreading. Finally, I saw him—Michael, Emerson’s secretary—pacing anxiously outside the emergency room. His usually composed demeanor was nowhere to be found. Instead, he looked like a man on the brink of collapse. When he spotted me, it was as if he had seen a lifeline.“Miss White!” Michael’s voice trembled as he hurried over. The relief in his eyes was palpable. But it was mixed with something else—desperation. “Thank God you’re here. I didn’t know who
Isabel’s POVThe sterile hospital lights cast a harsh glare in the waiting area. My heart pounded in my chest as I sat beside Michael, Emerson’s anxious secretary. We had just watched as Lilith was taken away by the powerful Mr. Montrose.“More to what?” I asked in response to Michael’s muttering. Though I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.He only shook his head, as if trying to clear his thoughts. “Never mind. Let’s focus on Mr. Williams for now.”But his words, “There must be more to this,” lingered in my mind, fueling the growing sense of unease in my gut. Something was wrong here. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.The silence between us was suffocating. I shifted uneasily in the hard plastic chair, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of events.Michael looked as if he hadn’t slept in days. His usually meticulous appearance was disheveled. His tie was askew, and his eyes were darkened with fatigue. He glanced at me occasionally, his expression filled with worry.
Isabel’s POVAs Emerson was fighting for his life, my heart sank deeper than I thought possible. I felt weighed down by conflicting emotions. I couldn’t quite explain the ache that spread across my chest. Emerson had betrayed me. He had shattered our marriage, gave up on me and our baby, and got engaged to the woman who destroyed everything. He even tried to ruin my father, driving him to the brink of despair. Wasn’t this supposed to be his retribution? A car accident—a twist of fate—should have felt like some kind of cosmic justice.I should be happy. Or at the very least, I should feel some satisfaction. But somehow, my heart still hurts.Suddenly, the familiar stabbing pain began to claw at my head. “Oh no, not now…” I thought to myself.The dull throb quickly escalated into a full-blown headache. I pressed my fingers to my temple, trying to take the pain away. But it only intensified. I hadn’t brought any medication with me."I’ll be right back," I muttered, not waiting for Micha