Her Man, My Betrayal

I never imagined a job could change my life forever. Who would have thought that a receptionist’s desk could be the doorway to love, obsession, and betrayal? My name is Isabella. I’m twenty-four. I come from a quiet house where loud dreams are folded and put away like the shirts my mother irons. But I had a way of whispering mine until they felt real. We weren’t poor, exactly. My father works at the civil service; my mother sells fabrics at the market. We ate well enough. My younger sister, Clara, is twenty-two and bright and fiercely practical — the kind of girl who studies the bus schedule and chooses the cheaper brand when we grocery shop. Education wasn’t something my parents chased for pleasure; it was a tool, a ticket to stability. For them, a steady job was the goal. For me, it was the opening act. I wanted more. Not just money, but the way the rich people carried themselves—the long evenings, silk dresses, late dinners in places where the waiters knew your name. I wanted to

I woke up before the sun fully broke through the curtains. My eyes burned, not from lack of sleep, but from the restless storm in my chest. I had been lying there for hours, staring at the ceiling, his arm draped possessively across my waist as if I were something he owned.I shifted slightly, careful not to wake him, and reached for my phone on the nightstand. My chest tightened when my gaze fell on his instead. The screen was still lit from a message that must have come in while he was sleeping. I had read it hours ago and it refused to leave my head.“Hey love, why are you ignoring my call?”Vicky.The words replayed in my mind over and over again like a curse. Who was she? Why did she call him love? And why did his phone buzz with her name while he was lying here in my bed, in my life, promising me the world?I turned away and buried my face in the pillow, willing myself not to cry.Minutes later, I felt him stir behind me. His arm tightened, pulling me closer. “You’re awake,” he

The morning light streamed weakly through my curtains, casting pale stripes across the room. I had barely managed to get any sleep. My mind had been busy turning over Clara’s cryptic remark in the car yesterday—the way she looked at Dickens in the rearview mirror, as if she knew something I didn’t.I sighed and rolled out of bed. Clara was already awake, sitting at her dresser and humming as she brushed her hair.“Good morning,” she said brightly, as if last night hadn’t happened.“Morning,” I mumbled, stretching my arms.She twisted toward me, her lips curling into that mischievous smile she always wore when she wanted something. “Hey, Isa… can I borrow your Gucci handbag today? The cream one with the gold chain?”I blinked. “Why?”“I’m going out later,” she said, smoothing her hair back. “Movie date with my man.”I raised a brow. “Movie date? You didn’t say anything about a movie date last night.”Clara rolled her eyes playfully. “I don’t have to tell you everything, big sister. Com

Two men. Two worlds.One, a man who could destroy me with his possessiveness, dragging me deeper into a darkness I was desperate to escape. The other, a man whose presence felt like light—capable of giving me hope, of changing my life. And yet, somehow, I knew that whichever one I chose, danger would follow.The clock struck noon, and I found myself walking into St. Louis Restaurant, my heart pounding like a trapped bird inside my chest. My palms were clammy, but the moment my eyes found him, everything else seemed to fade.Eli.He stood near the window, sunlight streaming through the glass and highlighting his sharp features. Tall, broad-shouldered, with thick dark hair brushed neatly back and eyes as blue as the ocean, he looked like someone who had stepped right out of a dream. His suit fit him perfectly, cut with the kind of elegance that whispered of wealth and power, yet his smile as he saw me softened everything.“Isabella,” he said warmly, pulling out the chair across from him

The text lingered in my mind like poison:“Break him again, and I’ll break you. You won’t see it coming.”My chest tightened. My palms trembled as I clutched my phone to my chest, praying it was just some cruel prank. But deep down, I knew better. Whoever sent that message meant every word.And suddenly, I couldn’t breathe in that house anymore. I needed air. I needed answers.That was when another notification blinked on my phone—this time from Eli, he sent me his Address. “Alden Estate,280 Crestview Drive. Montecito Heights, California, USA.Please come if you’re free, it will mean a lot to me”It felt like fate—or a trap. But I was too restless to say no.I grabbed my bag, hailed a cab, and gave the driver the address Eli had sent.The city lights blurred past the window, and my heart thumped harder the closer we got. But nothing—absolutely nothing—prepared me for what I saw when we pulled up.The cab slowed before massive steel gates that gleamed under golden security lights. Wit