The towering mansion was more breathtaking than Isabella had imagined. Its grand façade, illuminated by strings of twinkling lights, exuded wealth and power. Expensive cars lined the driveway, and well-dressed guests milled about on the expansive front lawn. Isabella clutched her carefully wrapped gift, her heels clicking against the cobblestones as she approached the entrance.
So, this is Alexander's world, she thought bitterly, trying to suppress the ache in her chest. This could've been my world, our world.
She shook her head, banishing the thought. No. My time will come. This isn't over.
Two uniformed security guards flanked the massive double doors. She stepped forward, her head held high, and handed over the gift. One of the guards inspected it briefly before nodding.
"No invitation required, ma'am. You're welcome to enter," he said, motioning for her to step inside.
Isabella walked in, her breath hitching as she took in the opulence around her. The grand foyer was adorned with gold accents, and a crystal chandelier hung overhead, casting a warm glow across the room. Guests dressed in designer attire laughed and sipped champagne, their polished lives on full display.
What would it have been like if all this had been for me? she wondered.
The thought stung, but she pushed it aside. This wasn't the time for self-pity. She squared her shoulders and stepped further into the mansion, determined to stick to her plan.
---
Isabella hadn't made it far into the crowd when she felt a strong hand grab her arm, yanking her into the shadows of a nearby alcove. She spun around to find herself face-to-face with Alexander.
His usually composed face was twisted with fury. "What the hell are you doing here?" he hissed, his voice low but sharp.
She met his glare with calm defiance. "It's a public party, isn't it? I don't need your permission to be here."
"How did you get my address?" he demanded, his grip tightening on her arm.
She yanked her arm free, glaring at him. "That's none of your business, Alexander. And don't touch me like that again."
His jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. "You shouldn't be here," he said through gritted teeth. "You're playing a dangerous game."
She smirked, tilting her head. "You're scared, aren't you? Afraid I might say something to your wife?"
His eyes darkened, but before he could respond, a voice called out, "Alexander? Darling, where are you?"
He stiffened, glancing toward the source of the voice. Isabella recognized it immediately—Angelina.
Alexander shot her a warning look, his voice a low growl. "Don't cause a scene."
"Don't worry, I won't," she said sweetly. "For now."
With that, he turned and walked away, his shoulders tense as he disappeared into the crowd. Isabella smiled to herself, savoring the power she held over him.
---
The party was in full swing, and Isabella took her time observing the guests and the grand surroundings. She could feel Alexander's eyes on her, watching her every move, his panic palpable.
She reveled in it. For once, he wasn't in control.
As she made her way through the crowd, she spotted Angelina. The woman was stunning, dressed in an elegant white gown that highlighted her effortless grace. She stood with a group of women, laughing and sipping from a glass of wine.
Isabella approached, her heart pounding. This was the moment she had been waiting for.
"Excuse me," she said softly, catching Angelina's attention.
The woman turned, her smile warm and inviting. "Hello," she said. "I don't think we've met."
"I'm Isabella," she said, extending a hand.
"Angelina," she replied, shaking her hand. "It's nice to meet you. Are you a friend of the family?"
Isabella hesitated for only a moment before responding. "Something like that," she said with a small smile.
Angelina gestured toward the group of women. "Well, welcome. Feel free to join us."
Isabella nodded, stepping closer. She could feel Alexander's gaze boring into her from across the room, but she ignored him.
As the conversation flowed, Isabella found herself drawn into their world of wealth and privilege. But she never forgot why she was there.
At one point, Angelina turned to her, her expression curious. "So, Isabella, are you married? Children?"
Isabella forced a smile, her hand brushing over her belly briefly. "No, not married. But I am pregnant," she said, her voice calm but firm.
The women gasped, offering their congratulations. Isabella glanced at Alexander, who had gone pale, his drink frozen halfway to his lips.
"But," she continued, her voice wavering just enough to sound genuine, "the father…he left me when he found out."
The women's expressions turned sympathetic, and Angelina reached out to touch her arm. "I'm so sorry, dear. That's terrible."
Isabella nodded, her eyes locking with Alexander's. "It's been hard, but I'm managing. I just wish he had been man enough to take responsibility."
Angelina sighed, shaking her head. "Men like that are cowards. Don't let him get away with it. Hold him accountable."
Isabella smiled faintly. "Thank you. I'll keep that in mind."
She saw Alexander's hands clench into fists, his face a mix of fear and fury. He looked like he wanted to march over and drag her out, but he couldn't risk making a scene.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur of polite conversation and stolen glances. Isabella didn't say anything outright to expose Alexander, but the tension between them was electric.
By the time she left the party, she felt a strange sense of satisfaction. She had shaken him, made him squirm in his own home.
This is only the beginning, she thought as she drove away, a small smile playing on her lips.