Real game

Isabella’s POV

“Divorce papers.” Henderson said, reading the title. “You want to file against Mateo Santiago? The billionaire?” He gasped a little. “Mrs. Santiago, I can’t fight his lawyers.”

“You don't need to fight.” I said I handed him another pile of cash. “I have already signed them. I am giving up everything. No alimony. No property. I want nothing from him.”

Mr. Henderson looked confused. “Then… what do you want me to do?”

“Keep these papers in your safe.” I said. “Do not file them yet. Wait for three months.”

“Why three months?”

I pressed my hand on my stomach as I forced the words out, “His birthday is coming. I promised him a surprise. On that day, I want you to mail these papers to Mateo. Tell him it was my final present to set him free.”

The lawyer looked amused as he nodded. “Okay, interesting.”

As I stood up, my legs felt weak. But my heart wasn't bleeding like past few months.

That night, I checked the "Vault of Memories" one last time. Every photo of Mateo, every lie he told, every record of his affair was ready.

I had set a timer. Only twenty-four hours were remaining of forty-four hours. In the twenty four hours, the car would go over the cliff. In twenty-four hours, Isabella Santiago would die.

In the remaining hours, I was done. Using my laptop, I set up a loop on the Manor’s security cameras. Mateo would see a recording of me sitting by the window, looking sad and "depressed" while the real me was already packing a small bag with essentials.

I didn't take the expensive silk dresses or the designer shoes. I took my laptop, the cash from the jeweler, and the ultrasound of my baby.

I didn't leave a note saying I knew about Valentina. That would be too easy. If I told him I knew, he would chase me to explain. He would lie. He would use his power to trap me.

No. I needed him to think I was just "broken."

I sent him one last text from the taxi: “I can’t breathe in that house. Everything reminds me of Elena. I want to be alone. Please, Mateo... if you ever loved me, don't follow. Don't even try to find me. I just need to sleep.”

I knew he would check my GPS. I wanted him to. That's why I threw my own phone from the car at a location three hours away from his place.

By the time Mateo would realize I wasn't in the Manor, I would be gone. Too far.

And in three months, I would be reborn.

The real game had just begun now.

~Mateo’s POV~

A child.

It was exactly what I had wanted. A way to have an heir without watching Isabella’s body change, without being reminded of the night Elena died.

But as I rushed Valentina toward the emergency room, all I could see was Isabella’s face.

She had looked at me with a pair of cold eyes. “I’m not interested in being Mrs. Santiago anymore.” The words haunted me.

“Teo… it hurts.” Valentina whimpered, clinging to my neck.

“The doctor is coming, Valentina. Just hold on.” I said.

Two hours later, the doctor told me Valentina and the baby were stable. It was just "stress."

I didn't feel relieved. I felt a strange dread. I walked toward the room where I had left Isabella earlier.

I found Dr. Evans sitting at his desk, typing on his computer.

“Where is my wife?” I demanded.

Dr. Evans looked up. “Mr. Santiago. Your wife left about an hour ago.”

“Why was she here in the first place? Tell me everything.” I slammed my hand on his desk. “What is wrong with her?”

“She is sick.”

“What?” I barked.

Dr. Evans sighed and turned his monitor toward me. “Severe clinical depression,” He explained. “Combined with extreme insomnia and malnutrition. Her body is shutting down because of mental stress.”

My blood turned cold. Depression? What the hell was he talking about?

I thought back to the last few months. Although I was so busy with Scarlet discretion, and Valentina, I noticed Isabella was quieter. But I thought she was just being "boring" again.

“Bullshit.” I glared at him. “She is... depressed because of me?” I snapped.

"I don’t know the reason, Mr. Santiago. But if it’s you, you should stay away from her. Or leave her alone for a while." The doctor answered.

"I decide what I do with my wife. Not you." I warned him.

I walked out of the hospital as I pulled out my phone and dialed her number.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

It got forwarded to a voice mail.

I called again. And again. Ten times in a row. But she never picked up.

I got into my car and drove fast to Santiago Manor. I expected to find her in bed, crying or waiting for an apology. That's how it had always been. I would give her a diamond necklace. I would take her to Paris. I would make her smile again.

But when I burst into our bedroom, the lights were off. The bed was perfectly made. But it was empty.

I walked to her closet in panic. Her clothes were there. Good. I felt a little relieved.

Then my phone buzzed with a message.

Her. I opened it immediately.

“I can’t breathe in that house. Everything reminds me of Elena. I want to be alone. Please, Mateo... if you ever loved me, don't follow. Don't even try to find me. I just need some time alone. I promise I will come back.”

I read the message again. "Don't follow? Don't try to find me?" I whispered the words to the empty room. "Like hell, Isabella."

Of course, I didn't listen. I ran to my study and opened my laptop, pulling up the GPS tracking software linked to her phone. My heart was thumping against my ribs.

I saw a red dot blinking. She was moving. She was already three hours away, heading toward the coastline.

"I have got you." I muttered, grabbing my car keys.

I didn't care that it was midnight. I didn't care that Valentina was still at the hospital. I drove like a madman, chasing that blinking red dot.

I imagined finding her in some small, cheap motel. I would burst through the door, pull her into my arms, and tell her she was being ridiculous. I would tell her that she was a Santiago, and Santiagos don't just "sleep" their lives away.

But as the sun began to rise, the red dot stopped moving. It was in the middle of a forest.

When I arrived, I found nothing but an old cargo truck parked by the side of the road.

I jumped out, screaming her name, “Bella.” I searched the entire area.

But there was no trace of her.

Then I stumbled on something. A phone. I recognized it right away. It was her phone.

It had been crushed under the heavy tires of cars.

She had left it. She had baited me.

For the first time in our marriage, Isabella had outsmarted me.