Chapter 3 - The Man I Married

Isabella POV

I walked out of my room.

The hallway was quiet. The house was still. I could hear the soft hum of the air conditioner. The distant sound of birds outside. The ticking of the grandfather clock downstairs.

Normal sounds. Peaceful sounds.

But I knew the truth.

The world was ending.

I walked down the stairs. My hand trailed along the railing. The wood was smooth beneath my fingers. Familiar.

I reached the bottom and stopped.

The living room was empty. The kitchen was empty. The whole house was empty.

I was alone.

Good.

I needed to think. I needed to plan. I needed to prepare.

I had fourteen days.

Fourteen days to change everything.

I walked to the kitchen. My bare feet padded against the cold marble floor. I poured myself a glass of water. I drank it slowly. My hands were still trembling.

I set the glass down and looked out the window.

The city stretched out before me. Tall buildings. Busy streets. People rushing to their jobs. They had no idea what was coming.

They had no idea that in fourteen days, their world would end.

But I knew.

I knew because I had lived it. I had died in it.

I turned away from the window. My thoughts were interrupted by a voice.

"Isabella?"

I froze.

I knew that voice. I loved that voice. I had trusted that voice.

I turned around slowly.

Ethan stood in the doorway.

He was wearing a white shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His hair was perfectly styled. His smile was perfectly warm.

He looked handsome. He always looked handsome.

But now, I saw him differently.

I saw the coldness behind his eyes. I saw the calculation in his smile. I saw the betrayal walking around in human form.

"Good morning," he said.

His voice was soft. Gentle. The voice he used when he wanted something.

I forced myself to smile.

"Good morning, Ethan."

He walked toward me. His steps were casual. Relaxed. He had no idea that I knew everything.

He had no idea that I had watched him leave me to die.

He stopped in front of me. He reached out and touched my cheek.

I wanted to flinch. I wanted to pull away. I wanted to scream.

But I didn't.

I stayed still. I kept smiling.

"How are you feeling?" he asked. "Your birthday is coming up. Are you excited?"

I nodded. "Very excited."

He smiled. "Sophia has been planning everything. She wants it to be perfect for you."

Of course she does.

"I'm sure it will be," I said.

He dropped his hand. He walked to the counter and poured himself a cup of coffee. He moved around the kitchen like he owned it.

He did own it. In my first life, I had given him everything.

But not this time.

"So," he said, taking a sip of his coffee. "I was thinking of taking Sophia out today."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

He nodded. "She picked out a dress for your party, but she doesn't like it. You know how she gets."

I knew exactly how.

In my first life, I would have smiled. I would have told him to go. I would have even offered to console Sophia myself.

But that was the old Isabella. The one who trusted. The one who died.

This Isabella was different.

"Thank you for caring for my sister," I said.

The words tasted like poison on my tongue.

He smiled. "Of course. She's family."

Family.

I almost laughed.

"Please," I continued, "make sure she gets her favorite gown. And her favorite color."

His smile widened. "You're so thoughtful, Isabella."

I nodded. "I try."

He set down his coffee and walked toward me. He leaned in to kiss my forehead.

I flinched.

It was small. Barely noticeable. But he noticed.

He pulled back. His brow furrowed.

"What happened?" he asked.

His voice was concerned. But his eyes were sharp. Calculating.

I forced myself to relax. I forced myself to smile.

"Nothing," I said. "I just... I have a surprise for you."

His eyebrow rose. "A surprise?"

I nodded. "For my birthday. I want it to be special."

He studied me for a moment. Then he smiled.

"I love surprises," he said.

I knew he did.

"I know," I said.

He leaned in again. This time, I didn't flinch. I let him kiss my forehead.

His lips were warm. But they felt cold to me.

"I'll see you later," he said.

He grabbed his keys and walked out the door.

I stood there. I didn't move. I didn't breathe.

When the door closed, I let out a long breath.

My hands were shaking.

I gripped the counter. I closed my eyes.

He was exactly the same.

Self-centered. Always siding with Sophia. Even when I was his wife.

In my past life, I saw it as caring. I thought he was trying to show his love for me through my sister and mother. I thought he was being kind.

But now I saw the truth.

Every moment. Every word. Every gesture.

It was all a performance.

He never loved me. He loved what I could give him.

And now, I saw him for what he truly was.

A betrayal walking around in human form.

I opened my eyes. I looked out the window.

The sun was rising. The city was waking up.

I had fourteen days.

And I would use every single one of them.

I walked out of the kitchen. I walked to my father's study.

The door was locked. I knew where the key was. I had watched my father hide it a hundred times. Behind the painting. The one of the mountains.

I moved the painting. The key was there. Small. Brass. Cold.

I unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The study smelled like old books and leather. My father's scent. I closed my eyes and breathed it in.

When I opened them, I felt stronger.

I walked to his desk. I ran my fingers along the wood. I remembered sitting on his lap while he worked. I remembered him teaching me about the company. I remembered him telling me to trust myself.

"You are stronger than you know, Isabella. But you must learn not to trust."

I hadn't listened.

I will listen now and I will make them pay.

I opened the drawer. I found the safe. I entered the code. My father's birthday. The safe clicked open.

Inside, there was a document. Before I could pull it out.

I heard footsteps behind me. I quickly closed the drawer.

"Isabella?"

I turned.

Rebecca stood in the doorway. My stepmother. Her hair was perfect. Her clothes were expensive. Her smile was warm.

But I saw the truth now. I saw the coldness behind her eyes. I saw the calculation in her gaze.

"Good morning, Mother," I said.

My voice was calm. My face was blank.

She blinked. "You're up early. I thought you would be sleeping."

I smiled. It didn't reach my eyes.

"I have a lot to do," I said.

She tilted her head. "Like what?"

I held up some old document that was not important, praying silently that she doesn't come near me. 

"Just some old papers," I said. "Nothing important."

She stopped. Her eyes flickered to the document. Then back to me.

"Is that your father's?" she asked.

I nodded. "I was looking through his things. I miss him."

Her expression softened. "We all do, dear."

I wanted to scream. I wanted to throw the document in her face. I wanted to tell her I knew everything.

But I didn't.

I smiled. I nodded. I played the part.

"I should get ready," I said. "Sophia wants to go shopping for the party."

Then I closed the drawer. Thanking God that she did come close to me. 

Rebecca's eyes lit up. "Of course. You should spend time with your sister."

My sister.

The word tasted like poison.

"I will," I said.

I walked past her. I didn't look back. But she followed me out. Perfect.

I had work to do.

Surprisingly, I saw Sophia in the living room.

She was sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone. Her hair was perfect. Her makeup was flawless. She looked up when I entered.

"Isabella!" she squealed. "There you are! I was thinking we could go to that new boutique. The one with the dresses from Paris."

I smiled. "Sounds perfect. But I thought you left with Ethan. "

She stood up and grabbed her purse. "No. I'm so excited for your party. So I told him that we would meet him on the way.  It's going to be amazing."

I nodded. "I'm sure it will be."

I cringed. I have work to do, not this. 

She linked her arm through mine. Her touch made my skin crawl.

"You deserve it," she said. "You're my sister. I want you to be happy."

I looked at her. Her eyes were bright. Her smile was wide.

She was a good actress.

I was better.

"Thank you, Sophia," I said. "You're so kind."

She beamed.

We walked out the door together.

The sun was warm on my face. The city was alive around us. People were laughing. Cars were honking. Music was playing from a nearby store.

It was a beautiful day.

But I knew the truth.

In fourteen days, this would all be gone.

I had fourteen days.

And I would use every single one of them.

I quickly sent a text to my lawyer.