CHAPTER 3 — THE WIFE HE BETRAYED

At six that evening, Isabella received a message from Alejandro while reviewing the financial records he had promised to explain.

Meet me at the old estate outside Madrid at eight. I want us to settle this without lawyers or anyone else interfering in our marriage.

Isabella immediately called him.

“Why the estate?” Isabella asked. “You have an office and a house with enough rooms to accommodate half of Madrid. Why do we need to drive outside the city to discuss money?”

“I want somewhere quiet,” Alejandro replied. “Every conversation we have lately turns into an argument, and I would rather explain everything without people watching us.”

“You could have explained everything in your office this morning,” Isabella pointed out.

“I know, and I should have handled things differently,” Alejandro admitted. “Please give me one evening to put things right.”

Isabella rested a hand over her six-month-pregnant stomach. She wanted to believe her husband, although the documents on her desk offered little reason to trust him.

“Are you bringing the original agreement?” Isabella asked.

“Yes,” Alejandro assured her. “The agreement, the transfer records, everything you want to see. I will explain why your signature appears on the transaction and why your father's old company is mentioned in the same file.”

“You should have told me that days ago,” Isabella replied.

“You are right,” Alejandro agreed.

His immediate concession unsettled her. Alejandro rarely admitted fault without a reason, and she had begun recognising when his apologies were intended to end a difficult conversation rather than resolve it.

“Eight o'clock,” Isabella said firmly. “I expect answers, Alejandro, not another promise.”

“You have my word,” Alejandro replied.

At seven thirty, Isabella left for the estate with copies of the most important documents in her handbag. She had dismissed her driver because she wanted to speak freely with Alejandro, without anyone else listening.

Rain blurred the lights along the highway as she drove away from Madrid. Twenty minutes into the journey, her phone rang through the car speakers.

“Have you left the city?” Alejandro asked.

“Yes,” Isabella answered. “I should arrive in about twenty minutes, although we could have had this conversation at home.”

“We have had enough difficult evenings lately,” Alejandro said softly. “I miss the way things were between us.”

“You mean before I discovered my missing inheritance?” Isabella asked.

“I mean before we started treating each other like enemies,” Alejandro replied.

“We are not enemies, Alejandro,” Isabella insisted.

“No, querida. We are not,” Alejandro assured her.

His tenderness weakened her resolve. She remembered their wedding, the excitement of discovering she was pregnant, and the nights he had held her through the anxiety of early motherhood.

“I still love you,” Isabella confessed. “I want us to find a way through this. I want our daughter to grow up in a home where her parents trust each other.”

Alejandro remained silent for several seconds.

“Did you hear me?” Isabella asked.

“I heard you,” Alejandro replied. “I want our family to be happy too.”

“Then let tonight be the beginning of fixing this,” Isabella said.

“Yes,” Alejandro answered. “Let tonight be the beginning.”

He ended the call, claiming another call was coming through. Isabella turned towards the window, relieved that he had sounded like the husband she remembered.

She never noticed the dark vehicle following her.

A black SUV suddenly emerged from a side road and swung across her lane. Isabella slammed on the brakes, but before her car could recover, another vehicle struck its rear quarter.

She screamed as the car spun off the road, smashed through a barrier, and rolled down an embankment. Metal shrieked against stone, glass exploded around her, and the impact drove the air from her lungs.

When the vehicle finally stopped, it lay on its side against a tree, its front end crushed.

For several seconds, Isabella heard nothing but ringing in her ears. Then pain tore through her shoulder and ribs. Blood ran down her forehead, and her legs were trapped beneath the twisted dashboard.

“No, no, no,” Isabella whispered, struggling against her seat belt. “Please, God, not my baby.”

She found her phone beneath the passenger seat and called Alejandro. The first call went unanswered. When she tried again, the call reached his voicemail.

“Alejandro, please answer,” Isabella begged into the recording. “I've had an accident. I'm trapped, and I need help. Please call me back.”

She called a third time.

“Isabella?” Alejandro answered, sounding impatient. “What is it?”

“There's been an accident,” Isabella said desperately. “Someone forced me off the road. I'm trapped, and I think the car is leaking fuel. Please send an ambulance. I'm frightened.”

She heard movement followed by a woman's voice.

“Who is calling you at this hour?” Camila asked.

Isabella froze. Even through the pain, she recognised her best friend's voice.

“You should have listened to me,” Alejandro said coldly.

“What are you talking about?” Isabella asked, struggling to breathe. “I'm bleeding, Alejandro. I can't get out of the car.”

“You were given the opportunity to leave this alone, but you decided to investigate my affairs,” Alejandro replied.

Isabella stared at the phone in disbelief.

“You knew about the transfer?” Isabella asked. “You knew my signature was forged?”

“Yes, I knew,” Alejandro admitted.

“And the agreement with Don Daniel?” Isabella demanded. “You knew about that too?”

“Of course I did,” Alejandro answered.

The bluntness of his confession shattered the last of her hope. She had spent days searching for an explanation, believing that some mistake might account for the missing money. Alejandro had allowed her to question her own judgement while knowing the truth.

“Why would you do this to me?” Isabella sobbed. “I'm your wife, and I'm carrying your child. How could you betray us?”

“Do not use the baby to make me feel guilty,” Alejandro replied coldly. “You should have stayed out of matters you didn't understand.”

“Alejandro, end the call,” Camila urged from somewhere nearby. “Someone could trace it.”

Isabella's breath caught.

“Camila, why are you there?” Isabella asked, her voice breaking. “Why are you with my husband?”

Neither of them answered.

“Please, Alejandro,” Isabella begged. “We can discuss whatever I discovered. You don't have to do this. I love you, and our daughter needs you.”

For a moment, Alejandro said nothing.

“You should have trusted me when I told you to stop digging,” Alejandro finally replied.

“Send help,” Isabella pleaded. “Please, I don't want to die.”

“You should have thought about that before you decided to destroy everything,” Alejandro answered.

The call ended.

Isabella immediately called him again, but he did not answer. She stared at the screen, hoping he would change his mind, that some remnant of the man she loved would compel him to return.

An engine approached the wreckage.

A man wearing a black jacket and gloves emerged from the darkness, sweeping a torch across the overturned vehicle. He approached the broken driver's window and peered inside.

“She's alive,” the attacker reported into his phone. “The car went over the embankment, but she's still breathing.”

A voice answered from the other end, but Isabella could not make out the words.

The attacker examined the damaged vehicle and noticed smoke thickening around the engine.

“Do you want me to finish the job?” the attacker asked.

Terror surged through Isabella. She pulled desperately at her seat belt, wrenching her injured shoulder until her vision blurred. The buckle refused to release, and her legs remained trapped beneath the dashboard.

The attacker stepped away from the car.

Orange flames suddenly flared beneath the bonnet. Isabella screamed and struck the buckle with the heel of her hand, desperate to escape before the fire reached the cabin.

The attacker listened to another instruction through his phone.

“Understood,” the attacker replied. “I'll make sure there are no survivors.”

He slipped the phone into his pocket and turned towards the wreck.

Inside the burning car, Isabella pressed both hands over her stomach, fighting to remain conscious as the flames climbed higher.