CHAPTER FIVE

|| Isabella's POV ||

“Yes, I’ll sign the divorce papers.”

Aaron’s expression didn’t change. He didn’t look shocked, or relieved since I was basically giving him what he wanted…if he was relieved he didn’t show it in any way. He simply nodded with a blank expression, as if I had just agreed to the end of our marriage.

“Good.”

He straightened, already reaching for his phone.

“My lawyers will—”

“But I need full custody of Sophia.”

The words tumbled out before I could stop them, and I took a deep breath when I saw Aaron’s hand still on his phone, his eyes snapping to mine with shock dancing all over them.

“Isabella—”

“Please.”

I took a step toward him, my hands trembling.

“I know you think I’m terrible. I know you hate me. But Sophia is innocent in all of this. She needs her mother. I can—I can work. I’ll find a job after the divorce, I promise. I’ll work hard, save money, support her life and education properly. I’ll hire a nanny if needed. I can give her everything she needs, Aaron. I can—”

“Stop.”

He snapped, interrupting my rambling.

I fell silent, watching as his brow furrowed deeper with each word I’d spoken. The muscle in his jaw ticked—that telltale sign of his anger building.

“What job skills do you have, Isabella? What kind of good job could you possibly find? You barely finished college before your father pulled you out to help with the family business—which, as I recall, you failed spectacularly at.”

I winced.

“I can learn—”

I started, but he wasn’t finished.

“You can’t even support yourself,” he continued, his voice rising slightly. “And you want to support a child? With what? Your nonexistent work experience? Your lack of any marketable skills? Your stellar track record of manipulation and deception?”

Tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not again. Not in front of him.

“I can provide Sophia with the best nanny money can buy,” Aaron said, his tone turning almost patronizing. “The best teachers, the best schools, the best of everything. I can give her opportunities you couldn’t provide in a lifetime of effort. Don’t you understand that?”

“She needs her mother,” I whispered, my voice breaking despite my best efforts.

“What she needs,” Aaron said coldly, “is stability. Security. A life not tainted by the schemes and manipulations of the Stone family.”

He stepped closer, and I instinctively backed away until my spine hit the wall.

“Are you really so selfish, Isabella? So uncaring about your own child that you’d deprive her of the best possible life just to satisfy your own maternal delusions?”

The accusation hit me like a physical blow. Selfish. Uncaring. As if wanting to raise my own daughter made me some kind of monster.

“That’s not fair,” I breathed, tears finally spilling over. “You can’t—”

“Fair?”

His laugh was harsh and bitter.

“You want to talk about fair? Sign the papers, Isabella. Give Sophia the life she deserves instead of dragging her down with you.”

He brushed past me, his shoulder catching mine hard enough to make me stumble. I pressed my hand against the wall to steady myself, watching through blurred vision as he strode toward the door.

“Aaron, please—”

But he was already gone, the door closing behind him with that same soft, devastating click.

I stood there, my whole body shaking, tears streaming down my face as the weight of everything crashed over me.

He was going to take her.

He was going to take my baby and there was nothing I could do to stop him because he was right—what could I offer Sophia compared to the Styles fortune? What was a mother’s love against private schools and trust funds and a life of privilege?

I pressed my hands over my mouth to muffle the sob that tore from my throat.

How had I let this happen? How had I become this pathetic, broken thing begging for scraps of dignity from a man who saw me as nothing more than a scheming gold-digger?

I don’t know how long I stood there, lost in my grief and despair. Minutes? Hours? Time felt meaningless.

Finally, when my tears had dried to salt tracks on my cheeks and my body had stopped shaking, I forced myself to move. To leave this room, this party, this life that had never wanted me in it.

I made it to the grand foyer, my steps automatic, my mind numb. The party sounds drifted from the ballroom—laughter, music, the clink of champagne glasses.

I was reaching for the door when I heard the voice.

“Isabella.”

Matthew.

I turned slowly, and the look on my brother’s face made my blood run cold. His eyes were wild, his jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscles jumping beneath his skin. He looked like a stranger—or maybe, for the first time, I was seeing him clearly.

“Matthew, I can’t—”

I started, but he was already crossing the foyer in quick, angry strides.

“You stupid, selfish bitch.”

The words were low and venomous, and before I could process them, his hand connected with my face.

The slap rang out in the empty foyer, sharp and shocking.

My head snapped to the side, pain exploding across my cheek. I staggered backward, my hand flying to my face, too stunned to even cry out.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Matthew’s voice shook with rage. “Do you?”

I stared at him, my cheek throbbing, my mind reeling.

This was my brother. My brother who was supposed to protect me, who was supposed to—

“You want a divorce?”

His laugh was ugly, cruel.

“You want to throw away everything I worked for, everything I sacrificed to get you into this family? Aaron just withdrew his investment, Isabella. All of it. Stone Group is facing bankruptcy again because of your selfishness!”

“I didn’t—”

My voice came out weak, trembling.

“I didn’t ask for any of this, Matthew. You did this. You—”

“How could you be so heartless?”

He stepped closer, and I pressed back against the wall, fear lancing through me as his hand rose again.

“How could you be so stupid? All you had to do was play your part, keep your mouth shut, and—”

“Stop!”

The command came from behind Matthew, and I stretched my head surprised to see Aaron standing there, and glaring at Matthew.