Mummy, Please Save Me : Divorced with his heir

001

The first sound Isabella heard was a woman’s moan.

It slipped into her ears softly at first, almost like a whisper carried by the walls. Isabella paused mid-step, one foot still lifted from the marble floor, her brows knitting together as confusion rippled through her mind. The sound came again, longer this time, breathy, unmistakably intimate.

Her heart skipped, she stood still, barely breathing, straining to listen. The sound was coming from the master bedroom.

Her chest tightened painfully as denial rushed in. No, It couldn’t be. Her mind scrambled for another explanation, maybe the television was on, maybe she was imagining things, maybe exhaustion was finally playing tricks on her.

She didn’t want to believe what she was hearing.

For weeks, her body had felt foreign to her. The constant nausea, the dizziness, the exhaustion that clung to her bones like a heavy coat, yet Andrea hadn’t noticed. Or maybe he had noticed and simply didn’t care. He had been distant, and distracted, always in a hurry. Some nights, he came home late. Other nights, he barely spoke to her at all.

This morning, she had finally gone to the hospital alone, and the doctor’s words were still ringing in her ears.

“Congratulations, Mrs Villanueva.You’re pregnant.”

The words had filled her with a warmth she hadn’t felt in a long time. Her hands had trembled as she pressed them against her still-flat stomach, tears pooling in her eyes. A baby. Their baby.

Today also happened to be their third wedding anniversary. The timing had felt like fate itself. This was the best gift she could ever give Andrea. 

She had imagined Andrea’s reaction all day, the surprise on his face, the way his eyes would soften, the way he would pull her into his arms and apologize for every cold moment,and every careless word.

Deep down, Isabella believed that once he knew about the baby, everything would change. He would love her better and treat her better.

Another moan echoed through the hallway, Isabella’s stomach dropped, this one was louder. 

Her breath hitched as recognition slammed into her. It wasn’t just any moan, whoever it is that was moaning was moaning Andrea’s name.

“Ahh… Andrea… yeah, baby… ahh—”

Her legs felt rooted to the floor as dread crawled up her spine. The sound came again, followed by a low male familiar groan.

Her fingers trembled as she raised a hand to her mouth, clamping it over her lips to silence the gasp that threatened to escape. Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure it would give her away.

Slowly, as though walking toward her own execution, Isabella forced her feet to move. Each step down the hallway felt heavier than the last, the closer she got to the bedroom door, the louder the sounds became.

Her vision blurred as tears welled up. Her fingers curled into tight fists at her sides, nails biting into her palms.

Without allowing herself another second to think, Isabella reached the door and pushed it open.

Time seemed to freeze as her eyes took in the scene before her.

On her matrimonial bed was Andrea. Naked. His movements were frantic and relentless as he hovered over a woman beneath him.

It was not just any other woman but her best friend, Vanessa.

Isabella’s knees buckled, weakness flooding her legs, but she caught herself against the doorframe before she could fall . Her hand flew instinctively to her stomach, her fingers trembling as if to shield the fragile life growing inside her.

The room spun violently, for a brief, merciless moment, Andrea and Vanessa were too consumed in each other to notice her. Vanessa’s head was thrown back, her lips parted in pleasure, while Andrea’s body moved without restraint.

A sob clawed its way up Isabella’s throat.

“Wh… what’s going on here?”

The words barely sounded like her own. They cracked apart, raw and broken, hanging in the air like glass about to shatter.

Andrea froze.

He turned his head sharply, his movements abrupt. With a low, satisfied groan, he pulled away from Vanessa. Vanessa gasped softly before lazily reaching for the duvet, dragging it over her naked body with no hint of shame.

Andrea stared at Isabella as if she were an inconvenience, an interruption he hadn’t planned for.

“What are you doing here, bitch?” he snapped.

The words hit harder than a slap. There was no guilt in his voice, just irritation.

Isabella stared at him, disbelief tearing her apart from the inside. Her chest burned, her lungs struggling for air.

“I asked you a question!” she screamed, her voice rising despite herself. “What the hell is going on here?”

Vanessa lifted her head slowly, strands of hair clinging to her damp skin. She looked utterly relaxed,and unbothered. When her gaze met Isabella’s, a slow, deliberate smile curved her lips.

“What does it look like?” Vanessa said casually. 

“We’re having sex. And you just barged in with your ugly face to ruin our fun.”

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to Andrea’s. Isabella’s heart stopped, she waited for Andrea to shove Vanessa away,she waited for him to stand up,look at her, and tell her she was misunderstanding everything.

Instead, his hand slid into Vanessa’s hair, fingers tightening as he kissed her back.

Something inside Isabella cracked.

The room seemed to close in on her, the walls pressing closer, the air thinning. Her ears rang as she stared at the woman she had called her best friend for most of her life.

She searched Vanessa’s face desperately, hoping to find remorse. Guilt. Anything that resembled the girl she had grown up with, the one who used to share secrets under blankets, who held her hand during their worst days, but nothing.

Her chest ached unbearably as she whispered, “Vanessa… you were my best friend. What did I ever do to you?”

Vanessa shrugged, completely unfazed. “You should be thanking me. I’m doing you a favor.”

A hollow, broken laugh escaped Isabella’s lips. “A favor?” she repeated, disbelief shaking her voice. “By sleeping with my husband?”

“Husband?” Vanessa scoffed, rolling her eyes. “He was never meant for you.”

The words sliced deep, rage surged through Isabella.

“You… you homewrecker!” she screamed, lunging forward without thinking.

She never reached her.Andrea moved faster.

In one swift motion, he jumped off the bed and grabbed Isabella by the neck, his fingers digging into her skin. He slammed her backward, her body crashing into the wall with a sickening thud.

The air rushed out of her lungs.

Isabella clawed at his wrists desperately, choking, her vision dimming as black spots danced before her eyes.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Andrea snarled, his face inches from hers. “Trying to fight her? Don’t be stupid. You think I’d ever let you touch her?”

He released her suddenly, shoving her aside like she meant nothing.

Isabella collapsed onto the floor, gasping violently, coughing as her fingers wrapped around her burning throat. Pain radiated through her body, but she forced herself not to cry. Tears stung her eyes, threatening to spill, but she refused to give them the satisfaction.

“You should know your place, Isabella,” Andrea said flatly, standing over her.

 “This marriage was only on paper. Living under my roof doesn’t give you the right to act like a wife.”

“Oh, don’t be too harsh on her, my love,” Vanessa chimed in sweetly as she slipped into the short gown lying on the bed. A smirk played on her lips. 

“She’s clearly shocked.”

Isabella remained on the floor, her body trembling as she struggled to catch her breath. She watched through blurred vision as Andrea and Vanessa dressed, their movements unhurried.

They walked out together. Vanessa glanced back once, her smile wide and triumphant,like someone who had just won the lottery.

The sound of Andrea’s car starting echoed through the mansion. Isabella lay still, listening as the engine roared to life and then faded into the distance.

They were gone, and she was alone.

A sudden, sharp pain tore through her lower abdomen.

Isabella cried out, clutching herself as panic surged. Warmth spread between her legs, she looked down.

Blood.

Her eyes widened in horror, she didn’t need anyone to tell her what was happening.

“My baby!” she cried, dragging herself across the floor toward the dressing table. Each movement left a dark stain behind her.

Her fingers trembled as she grabbed the telephone and dialed Miguel’s number.

“Hello?” his voice came through.

“My… my baby…help ” she whispered, dizziness washing over her. Her grip loosened. The phone slipped from her hand and dropped to the floor.

She heard Miguel calling her name, over and over, but she was too weak to respond or reach the phone, the room blurred, and she collapsed.

***

Minutes later, an SUV screeched into the parking lot.

Miguel burst from the car and ran into the mansion, his chest heaving. The house was deathly silent.

“Isabel! Isabel!” he called, panic creeping into his voice, there was no answer.

He ran upstairs, opening doors, calling her name again and again. Frustration and fear tangled in his chest.

When he pushed open the master bedroom door, his world stopped.

Isabella lay on the floor in a pool of her own blood.

“No… no, no, no,” he muttered as he rushed to her side, dropping to his knees so hard he barely felt the pain. His hands hovered over her body, trembling hands that had steadied countless patients now shaking uncontrollably.

Her skin was cold, and her body stiff beneath his hands.

Miguel had seen blood before, too much of it. On operating tables, on accident victims, on people whose lives balanced on the thin edge of seconds.But nothing had prepared him for the sight of his sister lying on the floor in a pool of her own blood.

For one terrifying moment,his mind refused to accept what his eyes were seeing. Isabella didn’t move.

Her skin looked pale, too still. Blood soaked into the marble floor beneath her, spreading outward like a cruel stain that refused to stop growing. Miguel’s heart slammed violently against his ribs.

“Isabel,” he whispered,fear clawing up his throat.

He pressed two fingers against her neck, desperately searching for a pulse. 

His eyes burned as he took in the blood trailing down her legs, the way her body lay limp and broken, l

ike she had been discarded. Rage and terror twisted violently inside his chest.

What did they do to you Isabel!” he cried, shaking her gently, sweat pouring down his face.