CHAPTER SEVEN: THE RETURN OF VICTORIA

The mansion had never felt so cold.

Isabella stood at the top of the staircase, her fingers gripping the railing as she stared at the woman standing in the grand living room.

Long brown hair.

Pale skin.

A pair of familiar eyes.

Victoria.

The woman Alexander had loved.

The woman Isabella had spent the last few days trying to understand.

And the woman who had just claimed to be her biological mother.

"Isabella."

Victoria's voice trembled.

The sound of her name coming from the woman's lips made Isabella's chest tighten.

She slowly descended the staircase.

"You're Victoria?"

The woman nodded, tears gathering in her eyes.

"Yes."

"You're the woman in the portrait?"

"Yes, darling."

Isabella stopped several feet away.

"Don't call me that."

Victoria flinched.

"I understand."

"No, you don't." Isabella's voice cracked. "You don't get to disappear for years and suddenly call me your daughter."

Victoria lowered her head.

"I never wanted to leave you."

"Then why did you?"

The room fell silent.

Alexander stood near the fireplace, watching them.

His expression was unreadable, but his hands were clenched into fists.

Victoria glanced at him.

"Because I was afraid."

"Afraid of what?" Isabella demanded.

Victoria took a shaky breath.

"Of the people who wanted you dead."

Isabella's heart skipped.

"Who wanted me dead?"

Victoria's eyes filled with tears.

"Your father."

The words struck Isabella like lightning.

She shook her head.

"No. My father would never hurt me."

Victoria looked at Alexander.

"Tell her."

Alexander's jaw tightened.

"Victoria, not now."

"She deserves the truth!"

Isabella turned toward him.

"What truth?"

Alexander remained silent.

Victoria stepped forward.

"Five years ago, I discovered that Richard Williams had been involved in a criminal deal. He was desperate to protect his company. When he found out about you, he wanted to use you as leverage."

Isabella felt dizzy.

"Use me?"

Victoria nodded.

"He knew you were my daughter. He knew Alexander was your biological father."

The room went completely still.

Isabella stared at her.

"What?"

Alexander's face turned pale.

"Victoria..."

But she continued.

"Alexander is your father, Isabella."

For several seconds, nobody spoke.

Isabella slowly turned toward Alexander.

He looked as shocked as she felt.

"That's impossible," he whispered.

Victoria shook her head.

"No. It's the truth."

Isabella stumbled backward.

"No!"

Her voice echoed through the mansion.

"You expect me to believe this? You expect me to believe that the man who forced me into marriage is my father?"

Alexander stepped toward her.

"Isabella, I swear I didn't know."

She raised her hand.

"Don't come near me!"

He stopped.

Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"All this time... all this time you were hiding this from me?"

"I didn't know."

Victoria began crying.

"Neither did I. I only discovered the truth recently."

Isabella looked between them.

Her entire world had collapsed.

Her mother was alive.

Her father wasn't her biological father.

And Alexander Blackwood—the man she had married—was supposedly her biological father.

She pressed a trembling hand against her mouth.

"This can't be happening."

Alexander's voice was barely audible.

"Isabella..."

She turned and ran.

---

Isabella locked herself inside her bedroom.

She couldn't breathe.

She couldn't think.

She stared at the black diamond ring on her finger.

The ring Alexander had given her.

The ring that represented a marriage built on lies.

With shaking fingers, she pulled it off and threw it against the wall.

It struck the mirror and fell to the floor.

"Why?" she screamed.

Her phone vibrated.

An unknown number.

She answered without thinking.

"Hello?"

A man's voice spoke.

"Have they told you everything?"

Isabella froze.

"Who is this?"

"The man who knows the truth about your birth."

Her breathing became uneven.

"What truth?"

The man laughed softly.

"Alexander Blackwood isn't your father."

Isabella's eyes widened.

"What?"

"Victoria is lying. And if you want to know why, meet me tomorrow night."

"Who are you?"

The call disconnected.

Isabella stared at her phone.

Another message arrived.

Midnight. The old bridge. Come alone.

---

Downstairs, Alexander stood facing Victoria.

"How could you tell her that?"

Victoria wiped her tears.

"Because it's the truth."

"Is it?"

She looked at him.

"What do you mean?"

Alexander's eyes darkened.

"I want a DNA test."

Victoria's face changed.

"You don't trust me?"

"I trust nothing anymore."

She stepped closer.

"Alexander, I spent years protecting Isabella."

"From whom?"

Victoria hesitated.

Then she whispered:

"From the man who killed Margaret Williams."

Alexander's blood ran cold.

"Who?"

Victoria looked toward the staircase.

"Richard Williams."

Alexander's expression hardened.

"Isabella's father?"

Victoria nodded.

"And he knows where Isabella's real father is."

Alexander stared at her.

"Who is he?"

Victoria opened her mouth.

But before she could answer, every light in the mansion went out.

A gunshot echoed through the darkness.

Then a woman's scream filled the hallway.

"ISABELLA!"

END OF CHAPTER SEVEN