บททั้งหมดของ After The Divorce, She Became The Nation’s Sweetheart: บทที่ 41 - บทที่ 50

The air went still once she stepped out. Riven’s hand, which had been lazily flipping through a magazine, froze mid-turn. His gaze lifted from the glossy pages and locked onto the figure emerging from the fitting room. For the first time in a long while, his composure faltered. His eyes stilled, pupils darkening as they fixed on her. The hand resting on the magazine tightened ever so slightly, as though he had forgotten he was holding it. For a long moment, no one spoke. The soft lighting poured over Isabelle like sunlight through mist. The ivory gown shimmered faintly as she walked, each step slow and deliberate yet an unintentional grace followed her. The off-shoulder design traced the curve of her collarbone, and the silver embroidery caught light like frost on morning leaves. Riven’s eyes darkened further. She wasn’t dazzling in the loud, ostentatious sense but breathtaking in a quiet way, as though she had walked straight out of another century. He couldn’t look awa

The room was utterly still.Once she said that, the reporters fell silent and exchanged glances with one another. But their silence was only for a moment.The next instant, a wave of frenzy passed through them and they pressed in on her even more excitedly,“Miss Monroe, are you insinuating that Chloe lied about getting the role?”“Do you mean there’s something fishy going on?”“Do you have proof for your words?”The reporters were overjoyed with this turn of events. They had initially thought this was only a matter of favoritism and the most they could do was get some coverage out of it. No one could really do anything about Isabelle being casted nor could they remove her. Even if Director Joe insisted on keeping her in the role, the most the public could do was boycott the drama.Even so, this scandal was too small to hinder the viewership. They were simply there to cause trouble a bit.But from Isabelle’s tone, it seemed the matter was not simple. Isabelle’s lips curled faintly, “

The script reading wrapped up later than expected. Isabelle left the stage with the rest of the cast and found Camille waiting in the hallway, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.As soon as Isabelle approached, Camille straightened. “We need to talk.”Isabelle blinked, taken aback by the serious tone. “About what?”“The man you were with at the contract signing. Who is he?”So that was it. Isabelle had expected this sooner or later. She lowered her eyes for a beat before answering honestly. “He’s the one I’m staying with.”Camille’s eyes widened. “The friend you mentioned?”Isabelle gave a small nod.Camille was left momentarily speechless. She had assumed Isabelle was still being pursued, not that she had already moved into his home.Isabelle noticed her odd expression and raised a brow. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”Camille’s lips pressed into a line. There wasn’t much she could say. For one, Isabelle was no longer the young lady she was when she got with Gregory back

The morning light reflected through the curtain linen, painting the breakfast table in strokes of soft gold. The aroma of toast and freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air, filling the quiet dining room with a kind of warmth.Isabelle descended the stairs with featherlight steps. She’d slept well—mostly. Except for the few times she’d woken up remembering a certain silver bookmark gleaming under the lamplight.She pressed her lips together, as if to chase the thought away.When she entered the dining area, Riven was already seated with Aimee. The little girl was nibbling at her cereal, swinging her legs under the chair while her father read the morning paper, his sleeves rolled up just past his wrists. He looked far too composed for this early hour. Especially for someone who’d stolen her peace of mind the entire night.“Good morning,” Isabelle greeted softly, her voice still soft with sleep.Riven glanced up briefly, his gaze brushing over her before lowering to his coffee again.

Prime AvenueIt was a quiet Saturday.The sunlight poured gently over the patio, spilling golden warmth across the white wicker chairs. Isabelle had nowhere particular to go, so she sat there with a glass of juice beside her and a script open on her lap.Riven had gone out early for a meeting. Beside her, Aimee sat cross-legged on the tiled floor, quietly stacking colored blocks in rows.Every so often, Isabelle peeked over the edge of her script to watch her. The little girl’s expression was serious and something about that sight softened Isabelle’s heart.Just as she turned another page, the doorbell rang.The sudden sound broke the calm, and Isabelle frowned slightly. Neither Riven nor Auntie Mai would ever ring before entering.When she opened the door, she realized she was right—it was neither of them.But she hadn’t expected this visitor either.“Naomi?”The woman stood there, perfectly groomed as always, her lips pressed into a polite but stiff smile.For a second, Isabelle was