CHAPTER 26
The night had arrived. Isabella stood in front of her mirror, staring at her reflection. The woman staring back was unrecognizable—her lips painted a deep crimson, her hair cascading in soft waves over her shoulders, and her body wrapped in an elegant, midnight-blue dress that hugged her figure perfectly. The delicate silver necklace around her neck sparkled under the light, a reminder of one of Alexander's many gifts.
Her hands shook slightly as she smoothed the fabric of her dress, trying to steady her nerves. On the dresser beside her sat the gift she'd meticulously wrapped earlier that day. A perfect bow rested on top, the card addressed to Alexander's daughter in her neat handwriting.
What am I doing? she thought, her heart pounding in her chest.
Her reflection stared back at her, her mind spinning with conflicting thoughts. Part of her wanted to turn away from the madness of her plan, to forget Alexander and everything he had done to her. But another part of her—the darker, angrier part—urged her forward.
"This is his fault," she whispered to herself. "He brought this on himself."
She grabbed the gift, clutching it tightly as if it gave her the strength she needed. The idea of walking into his house, of seeing his family, was nauseating. But this wasn't about them. This was about him.
She had spent the past week in torment, consumed by memories of Alexander and the life he'd dangled in front of her like a cruel joke. She'd cried until her eyes were swollen, blamed herself for falling for his lies, and even considered ending the life growing inside her. But not anymore.
Isabella took a deep breath, her lips curling into a determined smirk.
You wanted this, Alexander, she thought. Now, you'll see what it's like to lose control. You'll see what it's like to need someone and not be able to have them.
---
The clock on her phone read 7:45 PM. She grabbed her purse and tucked the gift under her arm. As she reached for her car keys on the counter, her hand hesitated.
Is this really a good idea?
She turned back to look at herself in the mirror, her reflection now more confident than uncertain. "He needs to see me," she said aloud, her voice firm. "He needs to remember what he's losing."
It wasn't just about revenge—it was about taking control of her life, of the narrative Alexander had written without her consent. She didn't want to be another one of his discarded toys. She wanted to make him crawl, to make him realize that she wasn't just someone he could toss aside.
She checked her purse one last time: phone, wallet, and the envelope containing a handwritten note she had drafted earlier. It was a calculated risk, one that could either shatter Alexander's world or pull him back to her.
---
The crisp evening air greeted her as she stepped outside. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the city. She slid into the driver's seat of her car, placing the gift carefully on the passenger side.
Her hands gripped the steering wheel as she sat there, the engine idling. The three-hour drive to Alexander's mansion loomed ahead of her, and for a moment, doubt crept back into her mind.
"Maybe I should turn back," she murmured.
But the image of Alexander's smug, untouchable expression pushed her forward. He needed to see her, to feel her presence, and to know that she wasn't someone he could forget.
Isabella glanced at the address John had given her earlier in the week. She had memorized it by now, but seeing it written out gave her a strange sense of validation. She input the destination into her GPS and pulled out of the driveway.
---
The drive was quiet, save for the soft hum of the car engine and the occasional directions from her GPS. As the city lights faded behind her, her mind wandered to the memories of her time with Alexander.
She remembered the first time he kissed her, the way his lips had felt so warm and reassuring against hers. She remembered the nights they had spent tangled in each other's arms, whispering promises that now felt like lies.
But those memories weren't enough to drown out the pain of his betrayal. The image of him standing in his office, unapologetic and cold, flashed through her mind. The way he had dismissed her and their child as if they were nothing made her grip the steering wheel tighter.
He doesn't get to win, she thought. Not this time.
---
The GPS chimed, pulling her from her thoughts. "You will arrive at your destination in 15 minutes," the voice announced.
Her heart raced as she neared the mansion. She could already see the soft glow of lights in the distance, illuminating the grand estate. The driveway was lined with expensive cars, and she felt a pang of unease as she pulled up to the entrance.
She parked her car off to the side, taking a moment to steady herself. Her hands trembled as she reached for the gift on the passenger seat.
"This is it," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat.
As she stepped out of the car, the cool night air wrapped around her, sending a shiver down her spine. She smoothed her dress one last time, clutching the gift tightly as she walked toward the grand entrance.
Every step felt heavier than the last, but she didn't falter. This wasn't just about confronting Alexander—it was about reclaiming her power.
Isabella reached the front door, her heart pounding in her chest. She could hear the sound of laughter and music coming from inside, a sharp contrast to the turmoil swirling within her.
She took a deep breath, her hand hovering over the doorbell. This was her moment, her chance to face Alexander on her terms.
With one final glance at the beautifully wrapped gift in her hands, she pressed the doorbell, a determined look etched on her face.
This is only the beginning, she thought as the sound of footsteps approached the door.