The Actress's Revengeful Husband

【Isabella, mission failed. The twenty-five-year limit has expired. You are no longer permitted to continue.】

The Program had never cared what kind of love saved me.

Family, trust, desire, devotion—any bond that reached 100% would count.

And I had lost them all.

I stood outside Saint Sebastian’s Church.The Survival Program spoke while I stood outside Saint Sebastian’s Church.

Through the half-open doors, Adrian Moretti kissed Sophia Lane beneath a storm of applause. The Moretti crest gleamed on his chest, and the ring that should have been mine sat on her finger.

He was my last target.

Now he was gone too.

【Please complete physical termination and exit this world on your own.】

I lowered my eyes and smiled.

Inside the church, everyone was blessing them. Outside, Bellandi and Moretti guards blocked the street, keeping reporters behind the barricades. No one noticed me leaving, which made sense. Today belonged to Sophia. Everything always did.

I turned away from the wedding and walked through the side passage behind the church.

The iron door to the bell tower had been left unlocked, probably by one of the security men. I pushed it open and climbed until the music below became faint. When I stepped onto the maintenance platform, the cold wind hit my face and lifted the edge of my dress.

The courtyard below was empty.

Good.

At least no one innocent would be pulled into my ending.

【Isabella, please complete the exit as soon as possible.】

“I know.”

I climbed over the railing.

Just as my body leaned forward, hurried footsteps rushed up behind me. A hand closed around my wrist and pulled me back from the edge.

I stumbled onto the platform, and when I looked up, Dante Bellandi was standing in front of me.

He was still in his wedding suit, the dark-gold Bellandi crest pinned to his chest. His face was terrifyingly cold, but his breathing was uneven, as if he had run all the way here.

“Isabella Bellandi,” he said through gritted teeth, “are you insane?”

I stared at him.

He should have been inside with Sophia.

Before I could speak, Dante stepped between me and the stairs, his voice low and sharp.

“Car. Now.”

When I did not move, he looked toward the guards waiting below, then back at me.

“Don’t make them carry you in front of the cameras.”

I walked down on my own.

Dante opened the back door of his car and waited until I got in. Neither of us spoke on the drive.

The car stopped outside an abandoned Bellandi warehouse near the river. There were no guests here, no cameras, no reporters, and no one who would interfere.

Dante got out first and opened my door, but he did not touch me again.

When I stayed seated, he leaned down, his face colder than the river behind him.

“Get out, Isabella.”

I stepped out.

“If you want to die,” he said, voice low and furious, “don’t do it at Adrian’s wedding.”

I said nothing.

He pointed toward the dark warehouse behind him.

“Here. No guests, no cameras, no reporters waiting to turn your breakdown into tomorrow’s headline. Bellandi and Moretti won’t be dragged through the press because of your little performance.”

So that was why he saved me.

Not because I was his sister, but because I almost ruined the wedding and embarrassed the family.

Dante stared at me, waiting for me to cry, argue, or beg the way I used to.

But I was too tired.

This time, I truly wanted to leave.

I looked at him and asked softly, “Why were you there?”

His expression hardened.

I asked again, “Weren’t you supposed to be with Sophia?”

For a moment, he said nothing.

I knew I should stop. I knew the answer would only hurt. But before leaving this world, I still wanted to know whether there was even a trace of my brother left in him.

So I asked the last question.

“Dante, did you come after me because you saw me leave?”