Se connecterI had created a monster. I had unleashed a devil to the world and I would do anything to drag him back to hell with me. If I must burn, then he would burn with me. Six years. Six years I had been by his side as his wife, his political strategist. Helping him. Loving him. But, when I needed him the most, he betrayed me. Now, I was back. Traumatised. Hurt, but…stronger. Stronger because I wasn't alone, stronger bevause he failed and I survived. I would strip him of everything I had spent six years building for him and then smash his face to the mud and remind him it was where he had always belonged. But then again, Zayne Castellan–the man who had saved me, the man who had bought my loyalty while I laid fractured by betrayal. Merciless, cruel…calm. Loyalty in exchange for my survival. I had fallen for him but even he …was worse than the devil I wanted to burn….
Voir plusISLA RIVERS
Where am I?
I blinked, adjusting my eyes to the light burning through my eyelids. The air, it smelt like disinfectant and emptiness.
“ You are awake” an unfamiliar voice said a few centimetres away.
My lips moved but no words came out, only a croaky sound indicating how parched my throat was.
“ Where am I?” I asked, my gaze restlessly searching for anything that looked similar to where I used to live.
“ What happened?” I asked again, slowly reaching for my stomach.
Empty. It felt empty, almost like the faint heartbeat I had felt a few days ago had vanished.
I stared towards the man putting on white coat. A doctor. I could tell from his uniform.
“You had food poisoning ma'am and worse still, you were involved in an accident, it's a miracle that you are still alive” the doctor said.
My ears rang, a piercing sound that almost shattered my eardrums. Poisoning? Accident?
Impossible.
I tried to sit up but every inch of my body ached. Pain. Like something was tearing me open.
“ You should lie still. You have been unconscious for three days. Sitting up would be difficult” the doctor said, still scribbling on the paper.
My eyes widened, hands trembling slightly. Three days? I had been unconscious for three days? My hands subconsciously flew to my belly. No bumps. No movement.
I swallowed.
“ How is my baby?” I asked,
The doctor's hands on the paper stopped, then came the long sigh that made a lump form in my throat.
“ Miss Rivers, you were lucky Mr Zayne here managed to save you in time, otherwise….”
“ My baby?” I asked again, cutting him off. Something in me whispered the answer but I didn't want to believe it. The doctor said surviving was a miracle, it meant my baby was just fine.
“ Dead,” a deep masculine voice replied. Ruthless. Impatient. A voice and shadow different from that of the doctor.
My face paled. My pulse slowed down dangerously like I was being pulled to death.
No. It was a lie!
“I'm sorry for your loss Ma'am but the baby didn't survive such poison” the doctor added. It was like sprinkling chilli pepper on an open wound.
The hospital ward tilted, the beeping machine beside me seemingly falling into background noise. It all drowned in, like my body was submerged into an eternity of pain. For a few seconds, I totally forgot how to breathe.
“It…it couldn't be” I said, lips quivering, eyes watering.
“ Can you recall anything ma'am, perhaps the culprit would be brought to justice”.
My eyes snapped towards the doctor. His gaze–worry and pity.
I gripped the edge of the bed, trying to stabilize the burn in my chest.
Recall? Food poisoning ? I couldn't…..i always made my meals.
I paused. My hands trembled as I gripped the bed. The breakfast I had with my husband …I didn't make it, he …he did.
Images from that day flashed before me…
I had smiled brightly when he promised me a special treat. I recalled the way he smiled while watching me eat the meal he made himself. The way he spoke.
“ Going to the orphanage? You would be missed” was what he said.
It sounded different then but now it sounded like a conspiracy, the type of conspiracy I spent half of my life unraveling for him as his political strategist. The type of conspiracy I prevented while making sure he achieved his goals of becoming the next elected president.
I remembered the way he looked at me, a moment of cold glance then a brief smile that made me question that gaze.
“ You know too much,” he had said with a smile.
“ Wives know alot” I replied, smiling.
I had been a fool.
He was never affectionate, he was wrapping me up to be discarded. To be cast away after achieving his goals.
“ I'm overthinking it…” I said, shaking my head vigorously.
The emptiness in my stomach seemed to crack wider, making me feel hollow.
The doctor sighed, “ no one believed you would survive, it's been a three days and your husband–the acting president, he was sad to come see you and had announced you dead”
My blood froze.
Disbelief.
Announced me dead? Refused to see me?
Maybe, he must have been sad, maybe I was overthinking it, the breakfast was genuine, he loves me. He would be happy to see me. He would be happy to know I was still alive.
“He …let him know I'm alive, let him know” I said, forcing my body up. My body swayed at the edge but I held myself, steadying myself as I sat up properly. “ Tell him!” I yelled..weakly.
The doctor sighed and lowered his file, “ miss, your husband personally signed a DNR for you. He said ….he didn't want you to suffer and should pass peacefully”
Time seemed to stop for a moment as I tried to register what I just heard.
Pass peacefully?
Signed a DNR?
My thoughts reeled back to a moment Samuel had stared right into my eyes, in his office, while I was with an unborn child working to ensure the votes of the majority had been secured.
“ I wouldn't give you both up even to death” he had said, clutching my cheeks while rubbing my belly.
I smiled, leaning onto him, believing his every word.
A tear slid down my cheeks. It wasn't just mere liquid sliding down my cheeks, it was pain. It burned and all I could do was burn with it.
I shook my head, “ he wouldn't sign that…i know …I know he wouldn't” I said but my brains processed faster than my emotions.
For the first time, I hated my talent.
The tall man walked up to me, the one that had ruthlessly told me of my child's death.
“ Denial won't bring your child back to you” he said. No pity, just cruelty. His words, not matching his appearance..
He looked dignified–the kind of men only written in fiction books. Perfection. The curled hair that covered one of his eyes, steel grey eyes that stared right into my soul. But his beauty paled in comparison to my pain.
“ Mr Zayne, she just went through…”
“ Leave” he cut the doctor off, giving him a stern look.
The doctor sighed, his shoulders sagging as he resigned to his fate. He grabbed his file, passed me a pitiful glance and walked away.
“ Want enough proof?” Zayne asked and my lashes flickered with tear droplets visible on them.
I wanted to ask who he was but I couldn't find the strength to ask more questions.
He slipped out his mobile, typed in a few things and bared his phone to me, “ Aconitum plants at the back of your home. Lethal when consumed”
My gaze fell on the screen. It was the garden outside our mansion, the one I shared with my husband.
How did he manage to get a picture of the mansion?
I caught sight of the purple-blue flowers and my breath hitched.
I had been engrossed in politics not to bother about it. I had once asked what they were. He smiled, kissed me. “ It's beautiful and delicate. It can only be meant for you”
Tears slid down my cheeks, my entire body going numb.
I had been stupid.
I swallowed the lump in my throat,“where…is he?” I asked..
Silence. It stretched …then, the words dropped.
“ Attending your funeral”
My body chilled.
SAMUELThe world didn’t feel real.Everything was too sharp, too bright, too loud.The crowd at the hospital. The flashes. The whispers. The questions.He was alive.She was alive.Isla…alive.The name burned in my head.I should have killed her. I should have made sure she never woke up.And yet…here she was.Disguised. Covered. Playing nurse. Working for that…that Castellan. That devil.I ran my fingers through my hair, tugging sharply, thinking maybe the pain would make the madness stop.It didn’t.The memory of her funeral. Her pale face. The fake mourning. The way she had almost looked at me, almost seen through me, almost…laughed at me.I should have seen it coming. I always did.But I had been so sure. So arrogant. So…careless.Now, my empire was shaking.My advisors were useless. My allies, uncertain. And my wife…my wife was alive and working for the man who had always been the shadow in my plans.Zayne Castellan.The name burned like fire in my veins.I slammed my fist onto t
SAMUELThe world didn’t feel real.Everything was too sharp, too bright, too loud.The crowd at the hospital. The flashes. The whispers. The questions.He was alive.She was alive.Isla…alive.The name burned in my head.I should have killed her. I should have made sure she never woke up.And yet…here she was.Disguised. Covered. Playing nurse. Working for that…that Castellan. That devil.I ran my fingers through my hair, tugging sharply, thinking maybe the pain would make the madness stop.It didn’t.The memory of her funeral. Her pale face. The fake mourning. The way she had almost looked at me, almost seen through me, almost…laughed at me.I should have seen it coming. I always did.But I had been so sure. So arrogant. So…careless.Now, my empire was shaking.My advisors were useless. My allies, uncertain. And my wife…my wife was alive and working for the man who had always been the shadow in my plans.Zayne Castellan.The name burned like fire in my veins.I slammed my fist onto t
ISLAThe city had no idea it was already a battlefield. From my vantage point, hidden behind the modest guise of a nurse, I observed the chaos beginning to ripple through Samuel’s carefully constructed world. The first move had been simple yet precise: a controlled leak to the media about inconsistencies in Samuel’s statements during a recent cabinet briefing. Nothing direct, nothing traceable to us, just enough to make the first cracks appear.I watched as Zayne stood beside me, his eyes scanning the monitors in the nerve center. His posture was casual, but the sharpness in his gaze betrayed the predator beneath the calm exterior. Every headline, every social media chatter, every hint of doubt in Samuel’s support base was noted. He was patient, meticulous—an artist in chaos. And I was the canvas he painted on, every stroke deliberate, every shade perfectly placed.“See that?” Zayne pointed at a cluster of tweets from the political analysts. “Notice how they’re questioning his ability
ISLAThe air smelled of rain and dust as I stepped out of the car. The streets of the capital were waking up, early commuters already bustling past us, unaware of the silent storm that was about to descend on their lives. I felt every eye, every camera flash in my mind’s eye, though no one could see me—not really. My nurse’s disguise was flawless: cap low, mask over my mouth, oversized coat cinched at the waist. Only Zayne knew the truth—that the woman in plain sight was Isla Rivers, alive and plotting.I followed him silently through the streets, my heels clicking faintly on the pavement. The city seemed oblivious to the chaos that had consumed my life, and in a strange way, that gave me focus. I had survived Samuel’s betrayal. I had survived death. And now, I was about to take the first steps toward undoing everything he had built.“You need to understand something, Isla,” Zayne’s voice cut through the quiet, firm and low. “Samuel has power. He has influence. He has the kind of loya
ISLAThe hospital room smelled of antiseptic and fear. My body still felt weak, as if the world had siphoned my strength while I slept. I stared at the ceiling, my mind refusing to rest, refusing to let me escape the truth that had been thrust into me. Samuel—my husband, the man I had loved with ev












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