Nicholas’s Shock

Chapter Three – Nicholas’s Shock

(Nicholas’s POV)

I had expected drama. Tears, pleading, maybe even anger. Anything but calm.

But when Celeste signed the papers without a single word, I froze. My mind couldn’t process it. She didn’t yell, didn’t cry, didn’t try to fight me. She just… signed it. Smoothly, carefully, almost… deliberately.

I rubbed my face, trying to calm the shock. My pride stung. I had imagined her falling apart, begging me to stay, proving to me how much she loved me. But she hadn’t. Nothing. Just a quiet submission that didn’t feel like submission at all.

“Isn’t that what I wanted?” I muttered to myself, trying to rationalize it.

“Fine. Let me grant Isabella her last wish. Then I can come back to her. After she’s gone, everything will be perfect again.”

That thought calmed me slightly. If I married Isabella, I could do right by her and, in return, become the son-in-law of the wealthiest CEO in the country. Everything I had been planning… it was still possible. Everything was still within my control.

I picked up the food Celeste had cooked. She had made it so perfectly — her attention to detail, the flavors just right. Part of me felt guilty for taking it away from her. But part of me told myself it didn’t matter. It was just food. It didn’t carry her heart anymore.

I drove to the hospital. The roads were empty in the late night, my mind buzzing with thoughts. Celeste had been calm, unnervingly calm. I couldn’t stop thinking about the precision in her actions. She had packed her suitcase, signed the papers, and given me no reason to doubt her obedience.

As I parked outside the hospital, I took a deep breath. I was prepared for the usual Isabella: frail, tired, and waiting for me like a patient who needed saving. I had rehearsed every word I would say, every gentle gesture I would make. I would make her feel safe, comfort her, and reaffirm that I would do everything for her.

But the moment I stepped inside, everything shifted.

Isabella… she was moving around. Playing. Laughing. Active. Full of energy.

I froze mid-step. My mind couldn’t catch up. What… what is this? I had seen her only as sick, barely able to leave her bed. And now, she was completely different — lively, strong, vibrant. Was she pretending all this time? Or… had she suddenly recovered?

She didn’t notice me at first. I stepped closer, still in shock. My chest tightened. This wasn’t what I had planned. None of this made sense.

Then she looked up and saw me. Her eyes widened in surprise.

“I didn’t expect you to come,” she said softly. Her voice carried no hint of weakness. “As… as she signed the divorce papers…” She stammered slightly, as if realizing what she had just said.

“Yes,” I said, trying to steady my voice. “She signed it. I just… saw you playing so well. What’s going on?”

Her expression froze. She blinked rapidly, as if trying to find words that made sense. Then she stammered again:

“Well… well…” Her cheeks flushed slightly, but there was something else there. Confidence. Control. “The most important thing now is that we are together. Let’s go get our marriage certificate.”

I blinked. My mind stalled. Did she just… say that?

Marriage certificate? Together? She was… healthy? Active? Completely opposite of the frail, helpless woman I had prepared to marry tonight. The image I had carried in my head for years — the sick, delicate Isabella — crumbled in an instant.

I swallowed hard. My throat was dry. This isn’t the Isabella I know. Something is wrong.

Her sudden vitality, the boldness in her voice, the way she carried herself… I didn’t recognize it. My control was slipping, and for the first time in years, I felt uncertain.

I wanted to speak. To question her, to demand an explanation. But the words caught in my throat.

She smiled at me — confident, radiant, unbothered. And I realized that every calculation I had made about her illness, her fragility, and her dependence on me… might be completely wrong.

The room spun slightly, and I forced myself to take a step forward. “Isabella… what happened? You… you’re so… lively. Are you… really okay?”

She looked at me, her eyes sparkling with an unreadable emotion. “I’m fine. Better than ever, actually. The important thing is that we are together now.”

My mind raced. Questions, doubts, and suspicion collided. Was she pretending all this time? Had she been hiding her true condition? Or… was this some kind of trap?

Well, whatever it’s, I am going to have her and also if I become the son in law of the wealthiest man, the wealth, company and everything will totally become mine.