The Rise Of The Betrayed Wife

Isla's POV:My husband, Declan, was on the bed, but he wasn't alone.My stepsister, Sienna, was straddling him, her blonde hair cascading over her bare shoulders, her hands tangled in his hair, her mouth on his.His hands gripped her waist, pulling her closer like he couldn't get enough.The pregnancy results slipped from my fingers, fluttering to the floor.They didn't notice me at first.I stood there, frozen in the doorway, my mind struggling to process what I was seeing. My hand moved instinctively to my stomach, to the tiny life growing inside me that I'd been so excited to tell him about.This couldn't be real.This couldn't be happening.Declan's eyes flicked up and met mine.He didn't scramble. He didn't push her off. He didn't even look guilty. He just stared at me, like I was the one intruding.Sienna turned her head slowly, following his gaze. When she saw me standing there, a smile spread across her face. That wasn't the look of embarrassment, not shame. Amusement."Oh," s

Isla's POV:Declan walked in, holding a bouquet of flowers and wearing a smile that would have fooled anyone who didn't know better. The roses were pink ones, the cheap kind they sold at the hospital gift shop downstairs.I took a step back instinctively, my body responding before my mind could catch up. Fear shot through me in my veins. The last time I'd seen that face, he'd been standing over my dying body, watching as Sienna dragged him out of the room, watching as I bled out on our bedroom floor."Isla?" His smile faltered slightly, concern creasing his brow. "Are you okay? You look pale."I forced myself to breathe, to think. He doesn't know. He can't know. This is a year ago. I haven't caught them yet. I'm not dead yet. I had to pretend. I had to play the part of the meek, silent girlfriend he expected me to be.I nodded slowly, pressing my hand against my chest to steady my racing heart."You scared me," Declan said, moving further into the room. His voice was gentle, and conce

Isla's POV:The silence lasted exactly two seconds.Then my father's fist slammed against the table so hard the coffee cups rattled loudly in their saucers.I watched the liquid slosh over the rim of Margot's precious china cup, pooling on the white tablecloth like a dark stain spreading.“What did she just say?” Arthur's voice was low, trembling with a fury I was very familiar with. The vein in his temple had already started throbbing, the way it always did when someone dared to challenge him.Nobody answered him. They were all still staring at me.My father pushed back from the table, the legs of his chair scraping against the floor.He stood slowly, his jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscle twitching beneath the skin and his face had gone a deep, ugly shade of red.“Do you have any idea,” he started, his voice rising with each word, “what I have done for you? What I have sacrificed so that you could have a life? This marriage isn't about you, Isla. It never was. The Hartley

Isla's POV:I woke up before the sun.My eyes opened in the dark and for a moment I just lay there, staring at the ceiling and listening to the house settle around me.I heard no voices through the wall this time,just heavy silence, thick and heavy, the kind that presses down on you until you have to move just to shake it off.I sat up and reached for my phone on the nightstand.Five thirty in the morning.The screen light made me squint but I didn't look away. I had work to do.The plan had formed somewhere in the night while I slept, piecing itself together in my subconscious until it woke me with its clarity.I couldn't just walk up to Callum Thorne and tell him his company was about to collapse.He'd think I was insane or worse, some kind of con artist trying to leverage his crisis for personal gain.What I needed was proof. I needed something concrete that would make him take me seriously, something that would prove I knew exactly what I was talking about.I needed to give him in

Isla's POVI arrived at the park forty-five minutes early.The train ride had felt endless, every stop dragging on while my mind spun through a hundred different scenarios of how this could go wrong.Now I stood at the edge of Riverside Park with the morning sun barely over the trees and my heart beating so hard I thought it might crack through my ribs.I'd dressed simply on purpose. Jeans, a plain sweater, sneakers that didn't make noise when I walked.Nothing that would draw attention or make me look like I was trying too hard.I needed to seem normal and approachable, not like someone who'd spent half the night rehearsing what she was going to say to a man who didn't know she existed.The park was mostly empty at this hour.A few joggers on the path, an older woman walking a small dog, a couple sitting on a bench near the fountain sharing coffee from a thermos.I found a spot on a bench with a clear view of the playground and sat down, my hands folded in my lap to keep them from sh