CHAPTER 5: FORTUNE CHANGED

"My poor child, I apologize for failing to protect you," Isabella whispered through her tears, clutching the small, ornate box containing her child's ashes.

She knelt on the cold mortuary ground, her knees digging into the moist soil. She touched the box with her shaking hands as though it were the child she would never hold again.

Her body heaved with grief as tears fell down her cheeks and onto the box. Her grief filled the quiet air of the mortuary ground, punctuated only by the sound of her muffled cries.

Suddenly, footsteps broke the silence. Isabella looked up, startled, and her eyes widened as Wyan approached her, Sophie following close behind. She did not need to see them here—not right now.

"Isabella." Wyan called out in a cold tone.

"What exactly are you doing here?" Isabella inquired, her voice strained from crying. Her grip on the box tightened naturally.

Wyan did not answer her question. As he came to a halt in front of her, he wore an angry and disgusted expression. Sophie, standing a few paces behind him, smiled faintly and satisfied.

Wyan bowed slightly, his gaze penetrating Isabella's tear-filled eyes.

"Tell me, Isabella," he said coldly, his tone like ice. "Who is the father of this bastard child?"

Isabella's breath became trapped in her throat. Her grip on the box slipped, but she quickly stabilized herself.

"Do not ever call my child a bastard!" She cried out, her voice cracking with anguish. "He is your son, Wyan! How can you even ask such a thing?"

Wyan reached into the inside pocket of his suit, a sour smile curling his lips. He took out a folded piece of paper, which he threw at her feet.

"Then explain this," he sneered.

Isabella paused, her hands trembling as she reached for the paper. Slowly, she unfolded it while glancing over the words. It was a paternity test, and the results showed that Wyan was not her child's father.

"This…this can not be right," she stammered. Her voice raised as she pleaded with Wyan. "That is a lie! You are the father, Wyan! This was your child."

Sophie stepped forward, her tone both mocking and sweet. "Oh, Isabella, you really should have considered this before being unfaithful. Wyan deserves better than a liar like yourself."

"Shut up!" Isabella exclaimed, her voice trembling with rage. She stood up, holding the box tightly to her chest.

Wyan's face grew darker. He quickly took Isabella by the neck, his hold firm and uncompromising. She fought against his grip, gasping.

"Even now, you are attempting to blame Sophie," he growled. "You cheated on me, but you have the audacity to play the victim!"

"I never cheated on you!" Isabella cried out, her voice strained as she clawed at his hands. "Why can you not believe me?"

Wyan tightened his grip briefly before shoving her away, causing her to stumble backward. She managed to keep her balance, but the box in her hands nearly slipped out of her grasp.

"You are not worthy of being my wife," Wyan said, his voice laced with venom. "I wish I had never married you."

Isabella's legs felt weak, but she forced herself to stand up straight.

Wyan's rage flared as he lunged for the box in her hands. Isabella cried out, attempting to hold on, but Wyan was stronger. He ripped it from her grasp, leaving her breathless and desperate.

"Give it back!" she begged, reaching for the box. "Please, Wyan, do not do this. That is all I have left of our child!"

Wyan's eyes were burning with rage as he held the box aloft. "This child is not mine," he announced. "I am going to scatter these ashes and smash this pathetic box!"

"No!" Isabella screamed and dropped to her knees. Her hands clenched together as she begged. "Do not do it, Wyan. I am begging you. Do not take this away from me!"

Her cries were ignored. Wyan opened the box deliberately and cruelly. He tipped it, allowing the ashes to spill onto Isabella's head and shoulders.

Isabella froze, the shock of his actions making her temporarily numb. As she realized what he had done, she let out a heartbreaking scream. She sobbed uncontrollably as she clawed at the ash on her head.

However, Wyan was not done. He grabbed a nearby bucket of water and poured it on her, soaking her from head to toe. The ash and water mixture clung to her skin and clothes, a grotesque representation of her humiliation.

Sophie smirked triumphantly as she stood to the side and watched the scene unfold. Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction as Isabella's dignity was ripped apart in front of her eyes.

Isabella fell to the ground, her body shaking with sobs. Her hands scraped at the dirt, hoping in vain to collect the ashes that had been so cruelly scattered.

Wyan stared down at her, his face devoid of compassion. "You deserve it," he stated coldly. "You are nothing more than a liar and a cheat."

As they vanished, Isabella remained on the ground, clutching the few ashes she would gather. Her sobs echoed through the empty mortuary grounds.

***

Suddenly the distant sound of roaring engines disturbed the silence of the mortuary ground.

She looked up in surprise as five sleek black BMWs drove into the mortuary grounds, abruptly stopping behind her. The sight of the convoy made her shiver.

Her heart was racing when four men in sharp black suits emerged from the cars, moving with purpose and accuracy.

One of the men approached her first, standing tall and imposing with a clean-shaven face. His expression was a combination of urgency and respect. He spoke, bowing slightly and breaking the silence with his deep voice.

"Miss Ben," he said, "we apologize for our late arrival. We have been looking for you for years."

Isabella blinked in confusion, her tear-stained face filled with disbelief. "I am sorry," she muttered, her voice barely audible. "You have got the wrong person. I am Isabella, not Miss Ben."

The man straightened and exchanged a brief glance with his colleagues. Then he lowered himself a little to look her in the eye and spoke in a firm but kind tone.

"No, Miss Ben," he insisted, "you are Isabella Ben, Mr. Benjamin Ben's long-lost daughter and founder of Ben Conglomerate."

Isabella stared at him, her mind spinning. In the midst of her anguish, the words felt surreal, like a cruel joke!