CHAPTER 28

The sound of the door slamming against the wall jolted Isabella awake. She shot up from the couch, disoriented, her heart pounding against her ribs. Sunlight filtered weakly through the curtains, casting long shadows across her living room.

Standing in her doorway, towering and livid, was Alexander. His tailored suit from the previous night was crumpled, his tie undone. Dark circles rimmed his eyes, and his jaw was clenched so tightly it seemed it might snap.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the apartment.

Isabella blinked, her mind racing to catch up. She hadn't locked the door last night—too drained from her act of vengeance at the party. Now she was regretting it.

"What are you doing here?" she snapped, pulling the blanket tighter around her.

Alexander stormed further into the room, slamming the door shut behind him. "Don't play games with me, Isabella! You know exactly why I'm here."

She stood, her legs unsteady but her resolve firm. "I don't recall inviting you into my home, Alexander," she said coldly.

He laughed bitterly, his hands flying into his hair. "Invite me? You've already invited yourself into my life, my family's life—into places you don't belong!"

"Don't belong?" she shot back, her voice rising. "Funny, because the last time I checked, you were the one who forced your way into my life. Or have you forgotten how you charmed your way into my bed, my heart, and left me with your child?"

Alexander flinched, but his anger only deepened. "That was different. You showing up at my daughter's birthday party was calculated and reckless."

Isabella took a step closer, her hands trembling with fury. "Calculated? Reckless? Do you even hear yourself? After everything you've done to me, you have the audacity to lecture me?"

Alexander glared at her, his chest heaving. "You had no right to be there, Isabella. Do you know what kind of position you put me in? If Angelina had figured out who you really were—"

"Oh, don't worry," she interrupted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Your precious wife doesn't suspect a thing. She even gave me some advice about not letting a man like you get away with abandoning his responsibilities. Isn't that ironic?"

His face darkened, his fists clenching at his sides. "You're playing with fire, Isabella."

"Good," she hissed, stepping toe-to-toe with him. "Maybe it's time you felt some of the pain you've caused me."

---

The room was thick with tension, the air crackling with unspoken words and raw emotion. Alexander's nostrils flared as he tried to rein in his temper, but Isabella wasn't backing down.

"You think you can waltz into my home and intimidate me?" she asked, her voice shaking. "You think you can silence me after everything you've done?"

"I'm not trying to silence you," he growled. "I'm trying to save you from yourself. Do you realize the damage you could've caused last night?"

"Save me?" she scoffed. "The only person you're trying to save is yourself. Admit it, Alexander—you're scared. Scared that your perfect little life is about to crumble because of your lies."

He took a step back, his face a mask of fury and guilt. "You don't understand—"

"Oh, I understand perfectly," she cut him off. "You're a coward. You couldn't handle your marriage falling apart, so you ran to me. You couldn't handle the thought of responsibility, so you tried to pay me off. And now you can't handle the fact that I won't disappear like all the others."

Her words hung in the air like a challenge, daring him to deny them. But he couldn't.

---

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Isabella could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her hands shaking at her sides. She wanted to scream, to cry, to throw something at him. But more than anything, she wanted answers.

"Why, Alexander?" she finally asked, her voice breaking. "Why did you do this to me? Why did you make me believe I mattered to you?"

He looked away, his jaw tightening. "I didn't mean for it to get this far," he admitted quietly.

"Get this far?" she repeated, her voice rising again. "You mean you didn't mean for me to get pregnant? Or for me to find out about your wife? Which one, Alexander?"

He didn't answer, his silence only fueling her anger.

"You're a liar," she spat. "A selfish, heartless liar. And the worst part is, I still—"

She stopped herself, her throat tightening. She couldn't bring herself to say the words, not when they felt like a betrayal of everything she'd been through.

"You still what?" he pressed, his voice softer now.

"Nothing," she said, turning away. "Just go, Alexander. Leave me alone."

But he didn't move. Instead, he stepped closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "I never wanted to hurt you, Isabella. You have to believe that."

She laughed bitterly, tears streaming down her face. "You don't get to say that. Not after everything you've done."

---

For a moment, they stood in silence, the weight of their shared pain hanging between them. Finally, Alexander sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"I'll go," he said quietly. "But this isn't over."

Isabella didn't respond, her back still turned to him. She listened as he walked to the door, his footsteps heavy.

But before he left, he paused. "Take care of yourself, Isabella. And the baby."

The door closed softly behind him, and Isabella collapsed onto the couch, her body shaking with sobs.