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The Shattered Hand Chapter 14
Isabella's POVAfter we back to Switzerland, A strange phone keeps calling me."Did you think hiding in Switzerland would keep you safe?" Sophia's hoarse voice crackled over the phone as Alexander and I landed in Zurich. "You destroyed my life, Isabella. Now it's your turn." The line went dead."She's going to hit the exhibition," Alexander said grimly. "It's the last day. The biggest crowd."We rushed back to New York. The museum was teeming with people. Then, the lights went out.In the eerie red glow of the emergency lights, Sophia emerged from the crowd. Her face was a roadmap of scars, her eyes wild. She threw open her coat, revealing a bomb strapped to her chest.Panic erupted. In the chaos, Sophia grabbed me. "Today, we die together," she hissed, her finger on the detonator.Suddenly, a figure shot out of the shadows. Vincent."Sophia!" he roared, tackling her. "If you want to hurt her, you go through me!"They wrestled on the ground. "Isabella, run!" Vincent yelled.Al
The Shattered Hand Chapter 13
I spun around.Vincent stood in the doorway, so thin he was almost unrecognizable. A wraith in a tattered black overcoat. His hair was a mess, his eyes were sunken, and his cheeks were hollowed out by what looked like years of suffering packed into one."Vincent?" I stared at him, my mind refusing to process it. How was he here? Wasn’t he in prison?"Isabella… it’s really you," he staggered toward me, his voice a raw whisper. "You’re alive… thank God, you’re alive…""Stay back!" Alexander immediately stepped in front of me, a protective shield. "Who are you?""I’m her husband," Vincent said, his desperate eyes locked on me, ignoring Alexander completely. "Isabella, I’ve been looking for you for so long…""Ex-husband," I corrected, my voice as cold and sharp as ice. "We’re divorced."“No! I never signed them!” Vincent’s voice was a desperate rasp. “I burned them. By the laws of our world, Isabella, you are still my wife!”"Security!" Alexander pressed an alarm button on the wall. "W
The Shattered Hand Chapter 12
The opening of my next solo exhibition was a month away. As Alexander and I were finalizing the pieces, my assistant, Chloe, rushed over."Miss Rossi, something… strange has happened.""What is it?""We received an anonymous donation offer," she said, handing me a file. "The donor wants to anonymously purchase every single piece in this exhibition."I took the file, my eyes widening at the amount. Twenty million dollars."Did you trace the IP address?" Alexander asked, his tone sharp.Chloe hesitated. "We did. It’s from Chicago again. Same source as the buyer from the MoMA auction."My hands started to tremble. It wasn’t a coincidence.On the day of the opening, the museum was packed. Politicians, collectors, journalists—the air buzzed with excitement. I stood in the center of the gallery, wearing a white gown Alexander had designed for me. It felt like armor and a costume all at once.As the museum director began his opening speech, my attention was drawn to a dark figure standi
The Shattered Hand Chapter 11
My solo sculpture exhibition at the Museum of Modern Art in New York was the talk of the town. The art world was buzzing."The Rebirth series is breathtaking… a testament to the resilience of the human spirit," one critic wrote.Alexander stood by my side, looking sharp in a tailored suit, his presence a quiet source of strength."Isabella, congratulations," he whispered in my ear. "Your work is going to change lives.""I wouldn’t be here without you," my voice thick with an emotion I was still learning to name again. It was more than gratitude; it was peace.Just then, the auctioneer announced the most shocking news of the night. "The centerpiece, Rebirth from the Cocoon, has sold for an incredible five million dollars! The buyer wishes to remain anonymous, but the bid was placed from an IP address originating in… Chicago."My blood ran cold."A buyer from Chicago?" I gripped Alexander’s hand, my knuckles white."Don’t worry," he soothed, his thumb rubbing circles on my skin. "It’
The Shattered Hand Chapter 10
Isabella's POVIn a private clinic nestled at the foot of the Swiss Alps, I slowly opened my eyes."Isabella?" A white-haired man sat by my bed, his eyes filled with tears."Grandpa..." My voice was a faint whisper. "I'm alive."He squeezed my hand. "My child, you're finally awake."I looked out at the snow-capped mountains. "Where's Vincent?""In a prison in Chicago," my grandfather said, handing me a newspaper. The front page showed Vincent, gaunt and hollow-eyed, being escorted by federal agents. I felt nothing but a cold, distant emptiness."He deserves it," I said softly, letting the paper fall. "Grandpa, I want to start over."..."The surgery has a ninety-five percent chance of success," the doctor, Alexander Reed, told us. He was young, maybe in his early thirties, with kind, deep-blue eyes. "Isabella's nerve damage was never that severe. Her recovery was deliberately sabotaged. We can fix it."Lying on the operating table, I stared into the surgical lights."Don't worry,"
The Shattered Hand Chapter 9
Vincent's POVA month later, Sophia was a husk of a woman, kneeling in an abandoned warehouse on the South Side."Vincent, please, just kill me..." she begged.I sat across from her, slowly polishing my gun. "Death is a gift you haven't earned."For a month, she had been hunted. Every corner of the underworld had my order: make her suffer, but don't let her die. She became a rat, scurrying through a city that wanted her blood."I have nothing left!" she shrieked. "What more do you want?""Nothing left?" I sneered. "Isabella lost her life.""Where's Marcus? Bring him here.""He's... he's gone," she trembled. "He jumped. Three days ago. From the twentieth floor. He said he was sorry... for what he did to you and Isabella."A dry, harsh laugh escaped my lips. I laughed until tears streamed down my face. "Sorry? What good is sorry now?"Isabella was never coming back....The FBI raid came faster than I expected. Red and blue lights painted the walls of my mansion."Vincent Torrino!
