chapter three, Broken Beyond Repair.

Isabella's POV:

The room spun, and walls were closing in. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.

Asher was dead.

Just like that.

I don’t remember falling. One moment, I was standing, waiting for someone to tell me it was all a joke, that Asher was fine and on his way. The next, the world spun, my legs gave out, and everything went black.

When I opened my eyes again, I wasn’t in my room. The scent of herbs and firewood told me I was in the healer’s quarters.

Enzo was beside me, his hand resting over mine. I yanked my hand away like his touch burned me. He flinched.

“You scared me, Isabella,” He murmured. “You collapsed so suddenly.”

I didn’t answer.

Helen’s voice reached my ears. “It’s a bad omen for a bride to lose her groom.”

I turned my head slowly and saw her standing by the doorway, arms crossed, wearing the same smug expression she always had when I was suffering.

Bad omen? I wanted to scream at her, rip her to shreds. But what was the point? Asher was dead. I had nothing left.

I turned my face to the side, closing my eyes again. Maybe if I stayed like this long enough, I would disappear, too.

For days, I refused to leave my room. To me, the world outside didn’t exist. The sun rose and set, but I never moved. I didn’t eat. I didn’t drink.

Mae knocked every day. “Isabella, please, just a little soup?”

I ignored her.

Enzo tried too. “Isabella, you need to eat.” He said. “I know you’re hurting. Please, let me help.”

I pressed my hands against my ears. I didn’t want help. I wanted Asher.

Even my father came once, but all he said was. “You can mourn, but don’t disgrace our family.”

Disgrace? I wanted to laugh. Was my grief an inconvenience to him?

So I stayed in my room, staring at the walls, replaying every moment with Asher in my head. The way he smiled when he talked about our future. The way he kissed my hands and said I was his everything. The way he promised—promised—he’d always protect me.

The only time I moved was when a note slipped under my door. Opening it, I immediately recognized Mae’s handwriting: “Your father wants to see you. He has news about Asher’s death.”

My eyes widened. News?

I was up before I even realized it. My legs were weak from days of not moving, but I didn’t care. I rushed to the door, yanked it open, and rushed past Mae without a word.

When I reached my father’s study, I didn’t even knock. I just barged in, breathless. “Father,” I gasped.

He gestured for me to sit, but I remained standing, gripping the back of a chair to balance myself.

Before I could demand answers, he began. “Did Asher ever mention anyone who wanted him dead?”

“What?”

“An enemy. A rival. Someone who had a reason to kill him,” He pressed.

I shook my head, confused. “No. Asher never spoke of enemies.” Then, my voice cracked. “Why? Why are you asking me this?”

He exhaled. “Alpha Theron captured a rogue. He confessed that someone paid them to kill Asher.”

I gasped, stepping back. “Who?”

“The rogue doesn’t know. Only their leader does.”

I swallowed hard. “Someone ordered his death?”

I tried to process it, but my mind refused to accept the truth. Then, a memory surfaced. A conversation I had once dismissed. "Enzo warned me to stay away from you, he must be a possessive older brother.”

Asher always made comments about Enzo's protective nature. Saying that he was always getting cornered and threatened by him. But he brushed it off because he saw Asher as protective, while I called it a phase.

No. No, it can't be.

Enzo has always been possessive, always overprotective. But he wouldn’t… he wouldn’t do that.

Would he?

Over the next three days, I tried to push my thoughts away from the possibility of Enzo being responsible for Asher's death. But it was impossible, because Enzo was always hovering around.

He would always say:

“You need to move on, Isabella.” “Asher wouldn’t want you to suffer.” “I’ll always be here for you.”

I tried shaking the thought away once more, when my door was suddenly pushed open. And Enzo stepped inside, he knelt before me, and placed my hands in his.

I tried pulling away, but his grip on my wrist tightened.

"Why are you looking at me like that, Isabella?" He asked.

I wrenched my hand free and stumbled back. My hands trembled as I clutched the dagger I had grabbed from my bedside table.

“Did you have something to do with Asher’s death?”

Silence.

His jaw clenched, his fingers curled into fists, then after a long pause…

“Yes.”

"Why?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "Why did you do it?"

“I did what I had to do." He replied, coldly.

I let out a chuckle. "You had to do what?" My voice cracked. "You had to rip away the one person who made me happy?"

"He wasn’t right for you!" Enzo’s voice rose. "You don’t understand, Isabella. He didn’t deserve you. He was never going to love you the way I do!"

I shook my head. "And you think you deserve me? After this? After murdering the man I was supposed to marry?"

"He was going to take you away from me!" Enzo took a step forward. "I couldn’t—" He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I couldn’t let that happen."

"Let that happen? Enzo, I’m not some possession you get to keep locked away! You are my brother! My family!"

“I was never your brother, Isabella. Never."

“Then what were you, Enzo?" I spat, my voice shaking. "What am I to you?"

He swallowed hard, stepping closer, his hands shaking at his sides.

“Mine," He whispered. "You’ve always been mine."

I staggered back, my grip tightening on the dagger. "You’re insane."

"I love you," He said, his voice breaking. "I have loved you from the moment I first saw you, scared and alone in this house. I wanted to protect you. I wanted to be the only one you ever looked at."

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I shook my head violently.

"This is love to you?" I demanded. "You think love is control? That love is taking away my choices?"

"I did it for us!" He ran a hand down his face. "You don’t see it now, but you will. We belong together. Asher was just—he was in the way."

"I hate you, Enzo." The words came out like venom, and I meant every single one. "I would rather die than ever be yours."

Enzo’s eyes widened as I raised the dagger.

“You deserve to die.”

He didn’t move. He didn’t even flinch.

I charged at him, the blade aimed at his heart. He caught my wrist, struggling, but he didn't hurt me.

“Isabella, stop,” He begged.

I fought, but he was stronger.

“I would kill you then kill myself!” I barked as rage filled my insides. My whole body was consumed with intense hatred for the brother that swore to protect me. I twisted and twisted as tears flowed from my eyes, and as his grips tightened.

“Fine, it would be perfect if we both die.” Enzo said as he finally let go of my hands. I blinked in disbelief as I stared at the monster in front of me.

“What?”

“At least we will be together forever, Isabella.” He said before taking a step closer to me, I watched as his hands reached for mine, he pulled them up and pointed the dagger at his chest.

“Here! Kill me Isabella.”

And then, as I stared into his tormented eyes, I realized—if I killed him, I would never be free from him.

So I turned the blade on myself.

His jaw dropped as I pressed the tip of the dagger against my chest.

"Isabella, no!" He lunged forward, but I stepped back, keeping the blade steady.

"Don't come any closer," I warned. "I mean it."

"Please, Isabella." His voice trembled. "Please… don't do this."

Tears streamed down in face, as I watched in disgust.

“You already took everything from me, Enzo," I whispered. "You took Asher. You took my happiness. I won’t let you take my soul too.”

"Isabella, stop!"

But I didn’t.

Sighing, I closed my eyes and plunged the dagger deep into my chest. It hurt a lot more than I had imagined, but it was too late to stop. Enzo’s screams faded as darkness swallowed me whole.

The last thing I saw was his devastated face.

Then everything went blank.