Romances de Livet Moon

Isabella POVI placed the divorce papers on the table.Right in front of him.The room went silent.Sophia stopped talking. Her mouth hung open. The pink dress she was holding dangled from her fingers. Rebecca stopped smiling. Her eyes darted between me and the papers. Ethan stared at the documents."What is this?" he asked.His voice was calm. But his eyes were sharp.I met his gaze."Divorce papers," I said.He looked at me. He raised an eyebrow."What's up?"I pointed at the papers in front of him.Is he blind?Everywhere was quiet. Even the chatterbox Sophia was quiet. Rebecca was confused. Her head tilted. Her brow furrowed."I want a divorce," I repeated.He stared at the papers. He didn't take them. He looked at me."Excuse me?""I want a divorce," I repeated. "I'm not asking. I'm telling you."He laughed.It was a nervous laugh. A confused laugh. The kind of laugh someone makes when they think they are being pranked."You're joking, right?"I didn't blink."I'm not joking."He

Isabella POVI sent a message to my lawyer. Mr. Bennett.I trust him with my life.I remembered my last life when I was signing the company document to Ethan. He was begging me. He tried to stop me. He was the one that refused to let me sign the second document.I pulled out my phone and typed the message.Mr. Bennett. This is Isabella. I need you to prepare divorce papers. I want to divorce Ethan Carter.I hit send.My heart was pounding. My hands were shaking. But I felt something else too. Something I had not felt in a long time.Power.My phone buzzed. I looked at the screen.Thank God.I stared at the message. I blinked. I read it again.Thank God.I was surprised by his comment. How was I so blind?The people that worked with my father never supported my choice of transferring my company to Ethan. They had warned me. They had pleaded with me. They had told me I was making a mistake.But I called them enemies of my progress.I called them jealous. I called them bitter. I called t

Isabella POVI walked out of my room.The hallway was quiet. The house was still. I could hear the soft hum of the air conditioner. The distant sound of birds outside. The ticking of the grandfather clock downstairs.Normal sounds. Peaceful sounds.But I knew the truth.The world was ending.I walked down the stairs. My hand trailed along the railing. The wood was smooth beneath my fingers. Familiar.I reached the bottom and stopped.The living room was empty. The kitchen was empty. The whole house was empty.I was alone.Good.I needed to think. I needed to plan. I needed to prepare.I had fourteen days.Fourteen days to change everything.I walked to the kitchen. My bare feet padded against the cold marble floor. I poured myself a glass of water. I drank it slowly. My hands were still trembling.I set the glass down and looked out the window.The city stretched out before me. Tall buildings. Busy streets. People rushing to their jobs. They had no idea what was coming.They had no id

Isabella POV I woke up. The first thing I noticed was the light. It was soft and warm, filtering through my pink curtains. The same pink curtains I had seen a thousand times before. The same pink curtains that had hung in my room since I was a child. I blinked. I stared at the ceiling. My ceiling. My room. I didn't move. I couldn't move. My body felt heavy. My mind felt foggy. Something was wrong. I remembered the roof falling. I remembered the darkness swallowing me. I remembered the cold. But I was not cold. I was warm. I was in my bed. I was alive. How? I sat up slowly. My body ached. My head throbbed. I looked around the room, confused. Everything was familiar. My dresser. My bookshelf. My vanity. The photo of my father on my nightstand. The dried flowers from my grandmother's garden hang on the wall. I knew this room. I had grown up in this room. But something felt wrong. I looked down at my hands. They were clean. No blood. No dust. No cuts. I touched my leg. The le

Isabella POVToday was supposed to be my happiest day.I remembered waking up that morning with a smile on my face. The sun had streamed through my pink curtains, warming my skin. I had stretched in my bed, feeling lighter than I had in years. It was my birthday. My twenty-seventh birthday. And for the first time since my father died, my family was throwing me a party.I had baked my own cake, of course. Three tiers. White frosting. Pink roses. I had decorated the ballroom myself, arranging the white balloons and gold ribbons with careful hands. I had greeted every guest with a genuine smile, relatives I hadn't seen in years, friends who had drifted away, reporters who had come to capture the event. I had believed, in that moment, that I was truly loved.I had been so foolish."Isa! Isa, come cut your cake!"Sophia's voice had rung out across the ballroom, bright and cheerful. My sister. My younger sister. The one I had grown up with, shared secrets with, loved with my whole heart. Sh