CHAPTER 25

Isabella sat cross-legged on her bed, staring at her phone screen. The soft glow illuminated her tear-streaked face as her finger hovered over an application for scheduling an abortion. Her chest felt tight, her breathing uneven. She pressed a trembling hand to her belly, the small life growing inside her.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she whispered, "I can't do it... I just can't."

Her hand lingered on the screen, but she couldn't bring herself to press the button. The thought of ending this part of her felt like severing the last fragile thread of hope she had left. She sobbed into her hands, shaking her head.

"All I wanted was to be happy," she cried aloud, her voice cracking under the weight of her despair. "Why couldn't you just love me, Alexander? Why couldn't you just choose me?"

Her thoughts spiraled, filled with longing and anger. She wanted him—needed him more than ever. Despite everything, despite knowing the kind of man he was, she yearned for his touch, his presence, the warmth of his voice.

She lay back on the bed, clutching a pillow tightly against her chest. The memories of his kisses, his whispered promises, and the nights they'd spent together consumed her. She hated herself for wanting him, for craving him even after he'd shattered her heart.

But there was something else beneath the sorrow—a flicker of rage that slowly began to grow.

---

Hours passed as Isabella's mind churned, and she finally picked up her phone. She dialed John's number, her voice trembling as she spoke.

"John," she began, "I need to know where Alexander will be this week."

There was a pause on the other end before John answered, "Isabella, are you sure about this? Digging deeper into his life might not be what you need right now."

"I don't care," she snapped, surprising herself with the venom in her tone. "I need to know."

John sighed, clearly reluctant, but he eventually gave in. "Fine. He's staying low for most of the week, but there's a big event this weekend—his daughter's birthday party. It's being held at their mansion. Everyone in their circle is invited."

Her heart twisted at the mention of his daughter. The thought of Alexander celebrating with his family while she sat alone, drowning in her sorrow, made her stomach churn.

"Do you have the address?" she asked, her voice cold and determined.

John hesitated. "Isabella, I don't think—"

"Just tell me, John," she interrupted, her tone sharp.

He gave her the address, and she jotted it down. After a moment of silence, John spoke again, his voice softer this time. "Isabella, what are you planning to do?"

She didn't answer, her mind already racing with possibilities. She ended the call, tossing her phone onto the bed.

---

As the evening wore on, an idea began to take shape in Isabella's mind. She stared at the ceiling, her thoughts dark and tangled. Two options presented themselves, each more dangerous than the last.

I could destroy him, she thought, her chest heaving with anger. She imagined walking into that party, revealing everything—his lies, his infidelity, his cruelty. She could ruin his reputation, shatter the facade of his perfect life.

But another thought followed, one that made her heart race.

Or I could win him back.

The idea sent a shiver down her spine. It was absurd, twisted even, but she couldn't deny the pull she felt. She wanted him—all of him. She wanted to be the one he chose, the one he couldn't resist.

Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions as she grabbed her laptop and began searching online. She ordered a gift for Alexander's daughter, something elegant and thoughtful—a small gesture to ensure her presence wouldn't immediately raise suspicion.

As she finalized the order, a dark determination settled over her.

"I'm going to that party," she whispered to herself. "No matter what it takes."

---

By the time she finished, the room was bathed in darkness, save for the faint glow of her laptop screen. She lay back on the bed, her heart pounding. The plan was reckless, dangerous even, but she felt a strange sense of clarity.

She rested a hand on her belly, her voice barely above a whisper. "This is for us," she said. "For me and you. We deserve more than this."

As she waited for the gift to be delivered, her thoughts turned once again to Alexander. The memory of his smile, his laugh, and the way he'd once looked at her with so much affection filled her mind.

She closed her eyes, her resolve strengthening. No matter how much it hurt, no matter what it took, she would face him again. And this time, she would make sure he listened.