CHAPTER FIVE

|| Isabella's POV ||

Today was Sophie's baby shower party.

I stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down the cream-colored dress I'd chosen. Simple, elegant, nothing too flashy. I'd learned over the past year that drawing attention to myself in the Styles family only brought more scrutiny, more criticism.

But today was different. Today, I had a purpose.

I tidied myself up, checking my makeup one last time, preparing mentally to confront Victoria and, while I was at it, discuss the divorce with Aaron.

The divorce papers were in my purse, folded neatly inside a leather folder. Ms. Chen had reviewed them three times, ensuring everything was airtight. Fair division of assets. Generous visitation rights for Aaron. Primary custody for me.

All I needed was Aaron's signature.

Mrs. Rivera helped me with Sophie, dressing her in the ridiculously expensive designer outfit Victoria had sent over—white lace and pink ribbons, more suited for a doll than a three-week-old baby.

"You look beautiful, Mrs. Styles," Mrs. Rivera said softly, adjusting Sophie's tiny headband.

"Thank you," I murmured, taking Sophie into my arms.

The car ride to Victoria's estate was tense and silent. The driver kept his eyes on the road, and I kept mine on Sophie, watching her sleep peacefully, blissfully unaware of the battleground we were heading toward.

---

I arrived at the venue with Sophie cradled carefully in my arms, stepping out of the car into the opulent gardens of Victoria's estate.

The party was already in full swing—society women in designer dresses, champagne flowing, soft classical music playing from hidden speakers. Everything perfect, everything controlled, everything exactly as Victoria demanded.

And then I saw them.

Aaron and Anastasia, standing together near the rose garden, even wearing the same color—a deep navy blue that made them look coordinated, intentional, like a matched set.

Although I knew Aaron didn't love me, had never loved me, seeing them together like that still sent a pang of pain through my heart.

They looked perfect together. She was laughing at something he'd said, her hand resting lightly on his arm, and he was actually smiling—really smiling, not the cold, tight expression he wore around me.

I forced myself to look away, to keep walking toward the main pavilion where the party was set up.

Anastasia noticed me first. Her eyes lit up with something cruel and delighted, and she immediately walked over, her heels clicking purposefully on the stone pathway.

"Isabella," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "How... nice of you to make it. I was worried you might still be too weak from the birth."

The insult was thinly veiled—implying I was fragile, useless, unable to handle even basic social obligations.

Before I could respond, Victoria appeared beside Anastasia, her expression cold and assessing as her eyes swept over me and Sophie.

"Well," Victoria said, her tone making it clear she found us wanting. "At least you managed to dress appropriately. Though I'm not sure why you insisted on carrying the baby yourself. That's what nannies are for."

Anastasia laughed, a tinkling sound that made my teeth clench.

"Mrs. Styles," Anastasia said, turning to Victoria, "I was just telling Aaron earlier how wonderful it's been working with him on the Singapore project. We make such a good team."

Victoria smiled, genuinely smiled, in a way she never had at me. "You two are indeed a perfect match. It's such a shame how things turned out."

She glanced at me pointedly.

"Only someone like Anastasia is truly worthy of Aaron and the Styles family legacy," Victoria continued, her voice carrying to the nearby guests who were trying to pretend they weren't listening. "Someone with the right breeding, the right education, the right... everything."

Anastasia moved closer, lowering her voice but still loud enough for me to hear clearly.

"And only someone like me is suitable to be Sophie's mother," she added, her eyes fixed on my daughter with an expression that made my blood run cold. "A child deserves better than—"

I felt very uncomfortable, heat rising to my cheeks, anger and humiliation warring inside me.

But I immediately retorted, my voice steady and clear despite the trembling in my hands.

"Miss Cole," I said, emphasizing her unmarried title, "although you're certainly outstanding in terms of education and family background, you seem to be forgetting one small detail."

Anastasia's smile faltered slightly.

"You're coveting someone else's husband," I continued, my voice growing stronger. "Is the daughter of the Cole family, who was supposedly raised with such care and refinement, really willing to go so far as to position herself as someone else's stepmother?"

Gasps from the nearby guests. Someone's champagne glass clinked too loudly.

"It's shameless," I finished, looking directly into Anastasia's eyes, "to make such noble claims about giving yourself away when really, you're just waiting like a vulture for my marriage to fail."

Anastasia's face turned pale with anger at my words, her composure cracking for the first time.

She opened her mouth, clearly about to deliver some cutting retort, when Aaron walked over.

His expression was thunderous, his jaw clenched tight. He must have heard everything.

Anastasia immediately restrained herself, her mask sliding back into place as she put on her fake smile again.

"Aaron," she said sweetly, as if we'd been having a pleasant conversation. "We were just discussing the party arrangements."

I saw Aaron walking toward me and was about to step forward, about to take this opportunity to discuss the divorce papers in my purse, when suddenly I was grabbed from behind.

A hand clamped around my upper arm, yanking me backward so hard I stumbled, nearly dropping Sophie.

"Isabella!" Mrs. Rivera appeared from nowhere, quickly taking Sophie from my arms before I could fall.

I turned to see Matthew, his face flushed red with fury, pulling me away from the crowd.

"We need to talk," he hissed. "Now."

"Let go of me—" I started, but he was already dragging me across the garden, away from the party, toward one of the side buildings.

Matthew pulled me into a small sitting room, slamming the door behind us and whirling to face me.

"Why do you want a divorce?" he demanded, his voice shaking with rage. "What the hell are you thinking?"

I stared at him, my mind racing. How did Matthew know about the divorce papers? They were still in my purse, I hadn't shown them to anyone except Ms. Chen—

And then I remembered. The maid. The new girl who'd been in the room during our confrontation.

She must have seen the papers. Must have told Matthew.

"That's none of your business," I said, trying to keep my voice calm.

"None of my business?" Matthew's laugh was bitter and harsh. "None of my business? Do you have any idea what you've done?"

He stepped closer, and I instinctively stepped back.

"I went to great lengths to make this marriage happen," Matthew spat. "I drugged Aaron Styles. I got him to sleep with you. I orchestrated everything—EVERYTHING—to save our family, and it's all your fault for wanting to throw it away!"

The words hung in the air between us.

Confirmation. Finally, after all these months of wondering, of Aaron's accusations, here was the truth.

Matthew had drugged Aaron. Not me. Matthew alone.

"Now Aaron is withdrawing his investment," Matthew continued, his voice rising to a shout. "Stone Corporation is facing bankruptcy again, and it's all because of you! How could you be so heartless? How could you be so selfish?"

I staggered back from the verbal blow, my back hitting the wall.

"I'm not—" I started, but Matthew wasn't finished.

"After everything I did for you! After all my sacrifices!" His hand rose, and I saw it coming—saw his palm pulling back for a slap—

The door burst open.

Aaron appeared in the doorway, his expression absolutely furious.

In one swift movement, he crossed the room and caught Matthew's wrist, stopping the blow inches from my face.

"Touch my wife," Aaron said, his voice low and deadly, "and I'll break every bone in your hand."