Chapter 1962
No.1
“Look at you,” she smiled. “You can’t leave a job half-done. Finish washing these vegetables. I’m just running a quick errand. I’ll be back soon.”
“Oh, alright…” His voice was soft and sweet. “Come home soon, okay Mommy? We’ll be waiting for you…”
Waiting for you to come home.
The phrase warmed her heart.
She would hurry back.
As she turned to leave, Nathaniel’s low, gentle voice stopped her.
“Drive safely.”
His tone was like a husband’s reminder to his wife.
Isabella paused.
Their affection made her want to stay.
No.2
But this was important.
“Don’t worry,” she replied. “I’ll be back soon.”
She rode her motorcycle away from Rosewood Manor.
The bike weaved through heavy traffic with ease.
Within twenty minutes, she arrived at The Grand Monarch.
Her memory guided her to the private room.
She stood outside Room 707.
Emotion tightened her chest.
It was Valentine’s Day.
Alexander had promised her a surprise.
No.3
She arrived excitedly, only to find Victoria inside.
Victoria handed her a glass of juice.
Everything went black after that.
For years, she believed it happened at The Ritz-Carlton.
Only recently did Vincent Moreau reveal the truth.
It happened here.
She took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
The strong scent of alcohol hit her immediately.
Before she could react, a figure moved swiftly.
The door locked behind her.
No.4
The lights dimmed to a romantic pink.
Rose petals covered the floor and sofa.
Isabella frowned.
The man blocking the door was Alexander.
His suit jacket was gone, leaving only a wrinkled white shirt.
His collar was torn messily.
His handsome face was flushed red.
He was drunk.
Very drunk.
She realized he had trapped them both inside.
No.5
“Open the door right now!” Her voice was ice-cold. “Let me out!”
Alexander leaned against the door, his gaze sincere.
“Isabella, don’t go. Hear me out…” His words slurred slightly. “I was wrong all these years. I shouldn’t have manipulated you from the start. I shouldn’t have let Victoria hurt you. You can hit me. Yell at me. Do whatever you want.”
He stepped forward and grabbed her hand.
Isabella dodged his advance with practiced ease, stepping back to create distance.
Alexander froze, his expression crumbling. A bitter laugh escaped his lips. “I know you despise me. Denying my blame would be a lie. Today, I kept thinking…if I could turn back time, if I had another chance, everything would be different now. But it’s still not too late.”
He dropped to one knee, pulling a velvet ring box from his pocket. The diamond inside caught the light, glittering coldly.
“Marry me, Isabella. I’ll agree to any condition. Testify against Victoria? I’ll do it. A prenuptial agreement? We’ll sign one immediately. Just say yes.”
His words were slurred from alcohol, but his eyes held a desperate, sober intensity. This was his only path to redemption, the sole way to erase years of regret. He was certain she would accept.
Isabella’s gaze was pure ice. She looked down at him as if he were something foul stuck to her shoe. “The great Alexander Whitmore, on his knees for me? Weren’t you the one who swore you’d never want me, even if I were royalty?”
No.6
The memory of those cruel words, spoken five years ago, hit him like a physical blow. Victoria had poisoned his mind back then. He’d been blind to the truth, blind to the fact that Victoria had forced Isabella to hide her beauty.
“I was a fool,” he choked out, a sob catching in his throat. “Blind and stupid. You can hate me. You can punish me.”
A harsh, mocking laugh tore from her lips. “You think this pathetic display is sincere? You believe it moves me? You’re nothing but a drunken fool, a pathetic cuckold who got what he deserved! Do you even love me? If I’d returned from Africa looking the same, without the diamond mine, without this fame…would you be here? Would you be kneeling?”
The hand holding the ring trembled violently.
She leaned closer, her voice a venomous whisper. “You don’t love me. You love the glamorous illusion. You miss the woman who truly loved you, the one you kicked down a flight of stairs. This version of me will never be yours.”
In one swift, brutal motion, she raised her leg and drove her heel into his chest.
The force was immense, echoing the violence he’d once inflicted on her.
Thud!
He crashed to the floor, the ring skittering away into the shadows.
Isabella didn’t even flinch. She stepped over him, her posture regal and utterly cold.
No.7
As she reached for the door, he scrambled up. Drunk and enraged, he lunged, grabbing her arm and slamming her against the wall. His fingers dug into her shoulders.
“You’re not mine, so you belong to Nathaniel?!” he roared, his eyes bloodshot. “You think he actually wants you? He’s playing with you! He’ll discard you! I don’t care that you’ve been with him! I don’t even care about the child! What right do you have to reject me? What right?!”
He shook her violently. Her back slammed into the unyielding wall, pain radiating through her. The world spun from the force of his rage.
It took her a moment to focus. Her eyes met his, filled with a contempt so deep it was paralyzing.
He had ignored her at their engagement party. He had slept with Victoria that very night.
Why this desperate begging now?
Alexander actually dared to question her and Nathaniel?