บททั้งหมดของ The Rise Of The Betrayed Wife: บทที่ 31 - บทที่ 40

Isla's POV:The stylist arrived at six on Thursday evening with three rolling racks of gowns and two assistants carrying boxes of shoes and accessories.Her name was Victoria and she moved through Callum's penthouse like she'd been there before, directing her assistants to set up in my bedroom with the kind of efficient authority that suggested she did this regularly for important clients.“We have five options I've selected based on the event, the likely photographers attending, and the message we want to send,” she said, unzipping the first garment bag. “Let's start trying them on and see what works.”The gowns were more expensive than anything I'd ever worn. I could tell just from touching the fabric, the weight and texture of material that cost more per yard than most people spent on entire outfits. Victoria explained the strategy behind each choice while her assistants helped me into them one by one.A navy blue gown that photographed well under flash photography. A black dress

Callum's POV:I recognized Declan Hartley immediately from the photos I'd seen in business journals over the years.He was exactly what I'd expected. He was tall, well-dressed, carrying himself with the kind of practiced confidence that came from growing up wealthy and never being told no.But underneath that polished exterior I could see tension in his jaw, a slight flush to his face that suggested either anger or alcohol or both.This was the man Isla had been engaged to. The man she'd refused to marry and he was walking straight toward us with clear intent.“Callum Thorne,” Declan said when he reached us, extending his hand with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. “Declan Hartley. Congratulations on your engagement.”I shook his hand briefly, noting the way he gripped too hard trying to assert dominance through something as childish as a handshake. “Thank you.”“Isla,” he said, turning his attention to her but not offering his hand. “You look well.”Isla's face stayed carefully neu

Callum's POV:The car pulled away from the venue and I felt Isla's entire body sag against the seat beside me.The driver closed the privacy partition without being asked, giving us space to decompose without an audience.Outside the tinted windows, photographers were still taking pictures of other departing guests, camera flashes lighting up the night like small explosions.Isla turned away from the window and reached down to slip off her heels, a quiet sigh of relief escaping as she freed her feet from shoes that were probably beautiful but clearly uncomfortable.She set them carefully on the floor and curled her legs up onto the seat, pulling the emerald fabric of her gown around her like a blanket.I loosened my bow tie and undid the top button of my shirt, watching her stare out at the city lights passing by.Her expression was unreadable, somewhere between exhaustion and something deeper I couldn't quite identify.The gown that had made her look like royalty a few hours ago now

Isla's POV:Rosie burst into my room at eight in the morning, already dressed and full of energy.“Isla, are you awake?” she asked, bouncing on the edge of my bed before I could answer. “Can we make pancakes together? Please? Daddy lets me help sometimes but you're better at the fun shapes.”I rubbed my eyes and sat up, still groggy from the late night but unable to say no to Rosie's enthusiasm. I nodded and she squealed with delight, grabbing my hand to pull me out of bed.“I want to hear all about the gala,” she said as we walked toward the kitchen. “Was it like a ball? Did you wear your pretty green dress? Did people dance? Did you feel like a princess?”I smiled and signed yes to most of her questions, which she'd learned meant I was agreeing with her.In the kitchen, Callum was already at the table with his newspaper and coffee, looking more relaxed than I'd seen him on a weekday. He glanced up when we entered and something that might have been amusement crossed his face at Ros

Isla's POV:The courtroom was smaller than I'd expected and colder somehow, all wood paneling and fluorescent lights that made everything look harsh.I sat between Callum and Margaret at a table facing the judge's bench, my hands folded on the smooth surface in front of me.They were steady even though my heart was racing so fast I could feel it in my throat.Across the aisle, my father sat looking confident and righteous, Margot beside him in a navy suit that made her look professional and maternal.Their lawyer was a woman named Patricia Bartlett, sharp-featured and expensively dressed, known for winning cases other lawyers wouldn't touch.The emergency hearing had happened faster than any of us expected.Arthur's lawyers had filed for an expedited review claiming immediate risk to my wellbeing.The judge had agreed to hear initial arguments before deciding whether a full evaluation was warranted.Judge Harrison was an older woman with gray hair pulled back severely, reading glasse