Plans of Vengeance

The sleek black car sped away from the De Santos mansion, cutting through the quiet streets of São Paulo under the cover of night. The tension in the car was suffocating, and Isabella could barely breathe. She sat in silence beside Alexander, her hands twisting together in her lap, as the weight of the evening's events pressed down on her. Alexander's face was a storm of fury, his jaw clenched tight as they sped toward the hotel. He hadn't said a word since they left the mansion, but Isabella could feel the anger radiating from him like heat.

When the car finally pulled up to their hotel, Alexander threw the door open and stepped out, his movements sharp and unyielding. Isabella followed, struggling to keep up as they crossed the lobby in tense silence. The elevator ride to their suite was agonizingly quiet, the only sound the soft hum of the machinery. Isabella wanted to say something, anything, to ease the tension between them, but the words died in her throat.

As soon as they entered the suite, Alexander's fury exploded.

"You think this is funny, Isabella?" he snapped, his voice low but seething with rage. "I tried—I really tried—to keep my temper in check. I sat there, surrounded by your scheming, snake of a family, and I kept quiet. I played the role. But do you know what your father did? He insulted me. Repeatedly."

Isabella flinched at the venom in his voice. "Alex, I'm sorry—"

"Sorry?" he cut her off, his eyes blazing. "Sorry doesn't even begin to cover it. I came here as a favor to you. I could have stayed in Tokyo, continued running my business, but you asked me to come back to this hellhole of a family, and for what? To be humiliated?"

"I didn't know this would happen," Isabella whispered, her voice shaking. "I thought... I thought maybe they'd give us a chance. That they'd see I'm happy with you."

Alexander laughed, a harsh sound devoid of humor. "Happy? Your sister practically spat in your face, and your father? He sees me as nothing more than a pawn in his business games. He doesn't care about you, Isabella. He never did."

Isabella felt her chest tighten, the familiar sting of old wounds reopening. She knew Alexander was right, but hearing it from him cut deeper than she expected. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen," she said quietly, tears welling in her eyes.

"Save your tears," Alexander snapped. "They won't fix anything."

He stormed across the room, loosening his tie and tossing it aside with barely restrained fury. "I'm disgusted, Isabella. Disgusted by your family, and frankly, disgusted by this whole charade. You want to know the worst part? I held back. I didn't show them who I really am. But tomorrow, at that gala..." He paused, his eyes narrowing as a cold smile spread across his face. "Tomorrow, everything changes."

Isabella's heart sank. "What are you going to do?"

Alexander's smile didn't reach his eyes. "You'll see. Your family thinks they can play their games with me? They're about to learn just how dangerous that game is."

She swallowed, dread settling deep in her stomach. "Alex, please. Don't—"

"Enough!" he barked, cutting her off. "I don't want to hear another word from you tonight." He pointed toward the plush sofa by the window. "You can sleep there. I don't want you anywhere near me right now."

Isabella blinked, stunned by the command. "What?"

"You heard me," Alexander said coldly. "I need space. If I have to look at you right now, I'll lose whatever control I have left."

Tears slipped down Isabella's cheeks as she numbly walked toward the sofa, her feet heavy with exhaustion and heartbreak. She curled up against the cushions, pulling a blanket over herself, the cold seeping into her bones despite the warmth of the hotel suite.

Alexander, meanwhile, remained standing by the window, staring out at the sprawling city below. His mind was already racing with plans. He wouldn't let this insult go unpunished. The De Santos family thought they could use him? They had no idea who they were dealing with.

As the hours ticked by, Alexander's mind churned with thoughts of revenge. He would turn their precious gala into a spectacle they'd never forget—a scandal that would shatter their pristine reputation once and for all. Rodrigo De Santos would regret the day he thought he could manipulate Alexander Gray.

By the time the first light of dawn began to creep through the curtains, Alexander had his plan. He turned away from the window, his expression calm and calculating. Tomorrow night, he would destroy them.

But as he looked over at Isabella's sleeping form on the sofa, a flicker of doubt crossed his mind. She had brought him into this mess, yes, but was she also just a victim of her family's cruelty? Could he really punish her along with them?

Alexander shook the thought away. He couldn't afford weakness. Not now. Not with the gala looming. Everything was at stake, and he would make sure the De Santos family paid the price for underestimating him.

As Isabella slept fitfully on the couch, Alexander sat at the small desk in the corner of the room, pulling out his phone and making the necessary calls. His network in Brazil was vast—he had built connections even before stepping foot on the soil. By the time the gala began, the stage would be set.

It was time to show the De Santos family just how far the Phoenix would go to rise from the ashes.

Tomorrow, their world would burn.

The next morning, the atmosphere between Alexander and Isabella was icy. He hadn't spoken a word to her since ordering her to sleep on the sofa. As the first rays of sunlight filled the room, Alexander remained consumed by his plans, leaving Isabella feeling more alone than ever.

Isabella slowly sat up on the sofa, her body stiff from the uncomfortable night's sleep. She glanced over at Alexander, who sat at the desk, sipping coffee and staring at his phone. His eyes were cold and distant, the fury of the previous night still simmering beneath his calm exterior.

"Alex," she began softly, her voice hoarse, "please, can we talk?"

He didn't look up from his phone. "There's nothing to talk about, Isabella."

Her heart sank. "But what happened last night... my family—"

"Your family is the problem, Isabella," Alexander interrupted, his tone hard. "And tonight, I'm going to show them what happens when they try to humiliate me."

A shiver ran down her spine. "What are you planning to do?"

Alexander finally looked at her, his eyes sharp and calculating. "I'm going to give them a taste of their own medicine. That gala they're hosting tonight? It's the perfect opportunity to show them who I really am. You said you wanted them to respect you, to see that you're not the weak girl they think you are. Well, after tonight, they'll have no choice but to take you seriously."

Isabella felt a pit of dread open in her stomach. She had never seen this side of Alexander before—so cold, so ruthless. She had known, of course, that he wasn't just the charming businessman he appeared to be. But seeing the darker side of him, the side that could crush anyone who crossed him, frightened her more than she wanted to admit.

"I don't want this," she whispered, tears brimming in her eyes. "I don't want to hurt them, no matter what they've done."

Alexander's expression softened, if only for a moment. "You don't understand, Isabella. They'll never stop. Your family will keep trying to control you, to manipulate you, unless you show them that you won't be a pawn in their games."

He stood up from the desk, his eyes locking with hers. "In my world, it's the only answer."

Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. Isabella wanted to argue, to plead with him to find another way, but deep down, she knew her family wasn't innocent. They had hurt her, manipulated her, and thrown her away when it suited them. But still, the idea of tearing them apart in public, of humiliating them as they had done to her, filled her with a deep sense of unease.

Before she could say anything more, Alexander spoke again, his voice low and dangerous. "You should get ready. We'll be leaving for the gala soon. I suggest you prepare yourself for what's to come."

Isabella felt her throat tighten, but she nodded, knowing there was no point in arguing. As Alexander turned away and headed to the bathroom, she was left alone with her thoughts. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to shake off the growing sense of dread.

This was not the reunion with her family that she had imagined. She had hoped for reconciliation, for some small shred of peace, but instead, she found herself caught in a storm of deception, power, and revenge.

---

That evening, as they arrived at the De Santos gala, the tension was palpable. The sprawling ballroom was filled with Brazil's elite, all dressed in their finest, mingling with champagne glasses in hand. Crystal chandeliers bathed the room in a soft, golden glow, but to Isabella, it felt cold and hollow.

Alexander, dressed in a tailored black suit, led Isabella into the room with his hand resting possessively on her lower back. He was every inch the powerful, untouchable man who ruled the underworld of Tokyo. His confidence radiated through the room as eyes turned toward them, whispers spreading like wildfire.

Isabella's heart pounded in her chest as she spotted her family across the room. Her father, Rodrigo, was in deep conversation with a group of businessmen, his sharp eyes scanning the room every now and then. Victoria was nearby, draped in a shimmering gown, her smile bright and artificial as she chatted with guests. Their mother, Elena, floated gracefully between conversations, the perfect hostess.

"Ready?" Alexander murmured, his lips brushing her ear.

She shivered, not from the intimacy, but from the anticipation of what was to come. She glanced at him, her eyes pleading. "Alex, please, don't do this."

He straightened, his expression unreadable. "It's already done."

Isabella's stomach twisted in knots as they made their way through the crowd, their every movement watched by curious eyes. She could feel the tension coiling tighter with every step they took toward her family. Rodrigo finally spotted them and excused himself from the group, his eyes narrowing slightly as they approached.

"Mr. Gray," Rodrigo greeted, his tone polite but cold. "Isabella. You both look... well."

Alexander smiled, a cold, calculated smile. "Thank you, Rodrigo. It's a pleasure to be here."

Rodrigo's eyes flicked to Isabella, a brief flash of disdain crossing his features. "I trust you've been enjoying your stay in São Paulo?"

Isabella opened her mouth to respond, but Alexander cut in smoothly. "It's been enlightening, to say the least. Your hospitality has been... memorable."

Rodrigo's jaw tightened slightly, but before he could respond, Victoria sauntered over, her eyes gleaming with barely concealed malice.

"Sister," Victoria cooed, draping an arm over Isabella's shoulders. "You look lovely tonight. Such a shame you've been so quiet. Are you feeling alright?"

Isabella forced a smile. "I'm fine, Victoria."

"Good," Victoria said, her eyes shifting to Alexander. "And Mr. Gray, of course, always so... composed. But then, that's what makes you so dangerous, isn't it?"

Alexander's smile didn't waver. "Danger is often just another word for power, wouldn't you say?"

Victoria's smile sharpened, but before she could respond, the lights dimmed slightly, and the sound of a microphone crackled through the room. Isabella's heart jumped as she realized the formal speeches were about to begin.

Rodrigo turned toward the stage, his expression unreadable. "Excuse me, I must attend to my duties as host."

As Rodrigo made his way to the stage, Alexander leaned down to whisper in Isabella's ear. "Watch carefully. This is where it begins."

Isabella's heart raced, her palms clammy as Rodrigo took the stage and began to speak, welcoming the guests, praising the family's accomplishments. She barely heard his words, her mind racing with anxiety over what Alexander had planned.

Suddenly, the large screen behind Rodrigo flickered to life, and Isabella's blood ran cold.

It was a video, grainy at first, but quickly coming into focus. The image was unmistakable—Victoria, caught in an intimate moment with a man who wasn't her husband.

Gasps rippled through the crowd, and Isabella's heart dropped into her stomach as she realized who the man was.

Marco.

Her sister's husband.

The scandal exploded around the room like a bomb.