Chapter 1
**1 Betrayal** Isabella Lancaster jolted awake, the dim afternoon light spilling through the curtains. The clock read six, too late for her to still be lounging in bed. Henry Ashford should be done with whatever kept him occupied today. She hurriedly slipped into a loose dress, her mind racing with thoughts of finding him. But when she stepped out, the cold reality crashed over her. “He’s already left,” her brother-in-law, David Hawke, said, his tone dripping with disdain as he leaned against the door frame. A tight frown creased Isabella's forehead. “You didn’t tell him I was here?” David raised an eyebrow. “Miss Lancaster, Emily came looking for Sir Charles Ashford. You think telling him you were here would’ve changed anything?” Emily Langley—her husband’s favored confidante, a ghost from his past who somehow had a knack for overshadowing Isabella. The woman was like a haunting melody, impossible to escape. Isabella chuckled bitterly at the irony; three years of trying to soften Henry's icy heart, and it all felt fruitless now. Didn’t he remember the significance of today? “Today is Emily’s birthday, Miss Lancaster,” David stated, crossing his arms. “Sir Charles Ashford is busy celebrating, I’d wager. If you need anything, let me know. I’ll pass it along tomorrow.” “No, thanks.” Isabella’s voice was clipped as she brushed past him, fists clenched. Returning home, the house felt suffocatingly dark, reflecting the turmoil within her. She tossed the groceries she had meant to prepare into the trash, a sense of defeat washing over her as she resolved to go to bed early. Just as she settled in, a message pinged on her phone. “Look at this! That jerk had the audacity to celebrate Emily’s birthday today—your anniversary, no less!” “Isabella, it’s three years now. If nothing has changed, you need to stop holding on to sand slipping through your fingers.” More images followed, portraying a dapper Henry sharing a laugh with Emily, his expression soft, an unmistakable warmth in his gaze that was never directed at her. Three long years. Sucking in a breath, Isabella typed back, “I’ll think it over.” “Just remember, your mentor has been asking for you to return. It’s time to decide between him or us.” Finally managing to drift off to sleep, she was abruptly stirred awake by movement beside her. In a daze, Isabella opened her eyes just as Henry leaned in, his breath reeking of alcohol. Instinctively, she pushed him away, but his grip was too strong, pinning her wrists with ease. As he tugged at her sleepwear, a surge of anger overcame her. “Henry! I don’t want this. Are you really going to force me?” His actions froze, the mood shifting ominously as his dark gaze locked onto hers. Ignoring the dread settling in her stomach, Isabella rolled away, pretending to fall asleep. But he wouldn’t have it. His grip tightened around her hand as he resumed his authoritative claim over her, and with each passing second, she felt the last of her resistance fade. When she finally awoke, every muscle in her body ached, as if run over by a truck. Groggily, she turned to find Henry sprawled beside her, oblivious amidst a flurry of headlines on her phone about his latest scandal. In a fit of rage, Isabella slapped him across the face, the sound echoing through the silence of the room. A crimson mark blossomed on his cheek, and for a fleeting moment, a venomous look flashed in his eyes, then vanished. “You get a slap in return for an unexpected night,” he shrugged coolly, buttoning up his shirt as if the events of last night were merely a footnote. “Let’s just end this, Henry,” Isabella blurted, a resolute tone spilling forth. He turned to study her, his expression unreadable. “Isabella Lancaster, don’t play games with me.” “Not a game. I’m serious. I can draw up the divorce papers.” With that, she lay down, facing away from him, the weight of her decision heavy on her soul. “Don’t forget why you married me,” he said, the amusement in his voice a sharp contrast to her bleak reality. The reminder of her debt to him stung like a fresh wound, but he left her with no choice; she had no bargaining power anymore. By the following afternoon, she had to rise to greet the world, and that included opening the door to a young woman who looked like she just stepped out from a magazine cover. “Isabella, I owe you an apology! I had no idea yesterday was your anniversary. If I had known, I wouldn’t have invited Henry to my birthday bash,” Emily Langley said, her voice as sweet as poison. Isabella snatched her hand back, the fleeting brush revealing the remnants of last night—a mark that made Emily’s smile falter for just a moment. “Was it truly an accident?” “Isabella, you can’t mean that. Robert has been a great partner to me, but he hasn’t stayed the night in forever.” Isabella watched her closely, suddenly aware of Emily’s slip. “That’s enough,” she interrupted, blood rushing to her head. Emily clutched her stomach dramatically, gasping, “I’m not feeling well... It’s my baby..." Panic gripped Isabella as the truth behind the veil revealed itself. They had never really left her alone; a truth she had been too blinded by love to see. Stumbling backwards, she turned on her heel and left. At the hospital, while Emily was supposed to be resting, she picked up the discarded test results after Isabella stormed off, her eyes gleaming with a newfound wickedness. Meanwhile, at Ashford Corporation, Henry faced the door as his wife entered, a mix of frustration and surprise swirling within him. “What’s this about?” he barked. Isabella tossed a file across the desk. “It’s the divorce agreement. You need to sign it.” His expression froze, darkening instantly. “Isabella.” “We had some good times, but I owe you the money in a month. Let’s wrap this up amicably.” “Not a chance.” He clenched his fists, rage simmering just beneath the surface. Before anything could escalate, his secretary burst in, interrupting their tense standoff. “Sir, there’s been an incident with Emily and the baby.” The world around Henry shifted abruptly, his piercing glare turning fierce. “What happened?”
Chapter 2
At that moment, David Hawke burst into the room, throwing a glance at Isabella Lancaster. “Sir Charles Ashford, there’s been an incident with Emily and the baby.” Henry Ashford turned, a sharp intensity in his gaze. “What happened?” David hesitated, words sticking in his throat. “I heard… Miss Lancaster met with Emily before she went to the hospital…” Normally, under such scrutiny from Henry, Isabella would have explained herself, tried to clear the air. But today felt different. The people who believed in her wouldn’t need her to say a word. She met Henry's gaze head-on. “Just sign the papers. I have somewhere else to be.” Henry didn’t respond but grabbed his coat to leave. As he passed Isabella, she suddenly reached out, employing a precise move to capture his wrist. Ignoring the astonished look on his face, she said coldly, “Sign, or my grip stays. And trust me, it won’t end well for your hand.” David snapped back into reality, his voice rising with disbelief. “Isabella, are you out of your mind? Sir Charles could take on ten bodyguards without breaking a sweat. There’s no way you can pin him down like this.” “Back off,” Isabella shot back, her eyes fierce. Something in David's gut twisted. The Isabella before him was different from the one he’d known. Henry observed her, curiosity creeping into his expressions. “You really won’t sign?” Isabella asked, a hint of mockery in her tone. “At this point, someone might think you're still in love with me.” “Isabella, do you have any idea what you’re risking?” Henry’s eyes bore into her. He could hardly believe she was serious, springing this divorce on him after three years of silence. David, frantic, urged, “Sir Charles, Emily and the baby are in the hospital. If you don’t get over there now, it might be too late!” Isabella's patience frayed. “Hurry it up.” “Sir Charles,” David implored, practically begging. “Emily’s about to go into surgery. Your mother adored her. Think of how much she would hate to see Emily alone in there!” Henry exploded, “Get out!” David's shoulders slumped as he reluctantly obeyed, frustration etched across his face. Isabella thrust a pen into Henry’s hand. “Sign.” “Can’t sign if you don’t let go of me.” “Henry Ashford, if you think you can outsmart me, you’re sorely mistaken.” When Isabella finally released him, Henry aimed to reclaim control, but Isabella had her own surprises up her sleeve. They grappled in the office, the desk scraping, chairs toppling, and the sofa suffering collateral damage. When Henry found himself flipped unexpectedly, rage washed over him. He had never lost to a woman before—least of all this woman. Isabella’s eyes sparkled with triumph. “Henry, you’re not as slick as you think. Sign the damn papers. If you hesitate too long, you’ll end up looking like a fool.” As he finished signing, Henry perceived the ebullience radiating from Isabella as she clutched the divorce papers. A part of him realized that to josh her might not be such a bad idea after all. “You’ve got some moves. When did you learn that? I had no clue,” he said, curiosity lacing his voice. “There’s a lot you don’t know,” Isabella replied. “You talk about love and devotion, but I’m giving you your freedom back. Let’s not complicate things. It’s better for both of us.” Elizabeth Fairchild bounded over, her joy tangible as she enveloped Isabella in a hug, as if the divorce was the best news since the dawn of time. “Are you that happy?” Isabella laughed, caught off guard. “Of course! It’s like a grand achievement!” Elizabeth exclaimed, glancing at the divorce papers as if they were a rare playbill. “They say love turns people into fools. I swear, after three years with Henry, your IQ must have plummeted. It's like you traded in your brain for a bunch of romantic nonsense!” Isabella cleared her throat, her tone turning serious. “It’s probably not far from the truth.” Elizabeth's lightbulb moment struck, and she pressed, “Wait, what do you mean?” “I lost three years of my life,” Isabella confessed. “...” Understanding dawned on Elizabeth. Finally, the mystery of Isabella’s peculiar behavior unraveled. She slapped her shoulder playfully. “The big boss knows I came to find you! He might’ve even lined up a seminar for you!” “...Wait.” Isabella thought of that sharp-witted, hard-nosed mentor and felt warmth spread in her chest. “If I’m starting over, why not?” “Why not what?” Elizabeth scoffed. “Seriously, you should just sign up!” “Senior sister…” “You put this on hold! You already had things developed. You just up and left without a care, and now that you’re back, don’t you want a foothold?” Unable to suppress her gratitude, Isabella teased, “Sorry! I messed up.” “Alright, you’ll have to apologize when we meet for dinner.” Elizabeth smirked. During dinner, Elizabeth scrolled through gossip headlines, shaking her head at the swirling rumors. Isabella, perpetually unbothered, carried an impressive air of indifference. They say the best way to forget something is to dive into another distraction. “Hey, Isabella! The boss is back in town in two days. Mind picking him up from the airport? I don’t have time.” “Doesn’t he have a driver?” Isabella queried, puzzled. “Please! How can a driver be as considerate as a colleague? Plus, you two need to talk. It’s settled. Dinner!” At the hospital, Emily Langley sat frail and pale in her hospital bed. “Arthur, this has nothing to do with Isabella. I don’t want this baby. Mom needs medical care, and I can’t afford to raise another child.” She clarified, hoping Henry would see her sacrifice and empathize. “Why did you go to her?” Henry asked, his cold demeanor slicing through the air. Emily blinked, surprise lining her features. “Arthur, you should be asking what she did to me. I just wanted to make sense of yesterday's chaos. Her emotions exploded out of nowhere! Anyone else in that situation would’ve reacted. The baby’s loss isn’t related to—and it’s entirely my fault!” David caught Emily’s eye and interjected quickly, “Don't fret about the baby; Sir Charles will want answers. Just focus on resting.” Emily looked torn. “But my mom’s illness…” Henry interrupted, “A leading oncologist is coming in two days. His specialized research will help your mother’s condition—don’t worry.” Tears welled in Emily's eyes, hope glowing within. “Really?” David nodded, reassuring her. “There’s no way Sir Charles would lie about this.” Henry mentioned work and left, his mind racing with thoughts. Once the door shut, David gave Emily a conspiratorial smile. “I’ve got some good news for you, Emily, and I can’t wait to share!”
Chapter 3
Henry Ashford claimed he had work to finish and left early. The secretary closed the door behind him, barely containing her excitement. “Emily, I’ve got some great news for you!” Since Henry had walked out, Emily Langley had been sulking, clearly uninterested in the gossip. But David Hawke chimed in, “Sir Charles Ashford is divorcing that woman.” “What?” Emily narrowed her eyes, skeptical. “For real?” Grabbing onto Henry Ashford was like landing a golden ticket, a lifetime of comfort. She didn’t have much to her name but had spent time with the late Margaret Ashford, and that had earned her a permanent spot in Henry’s world. The man had money and influence—there was no way she’d let him slip out of her grasp easily. David's certainty only heightened her intrigue. “Yep. Check this out.” He pulled out his phone and displayed a photo of the divorce papers. “He signed this? You better work hard while you can. Mrs. Yu’s position is about to open up, and you can’t let anyone else snatch it up.” Emily clenched her fists. “I will.” David was invested too; he wanted a piece of this pie as well. “What’s going on with your surgery? Wasn’t that woman the reason you had to…” “It wasn’t her.” The secretary looked baffled. “Then why did you terminate? You know that child could have had Henry’s attention.” “Because I changed my mind.” Emily forced a smile, confidence creeping in. “Keeping that child could strengthen my ties with Robert Ashford.” David nodded approvingly. “Smart thinking, Emily.” At the Southborough Aerodrome, a distinguished man appeared, stepping into the terminal with an effortless grace that turned heads. Arthur Blackwood, tall and handsome with an inviting smile, spotted Isabella Lancaster, and his expression brightened even more. “Isabella.” “Long time no see,” she replied, meeting him halfway. As they settled into the car, Isabella glanced out the window at the passing scenery. “This isn’t the way to your place, is it?” “Just a quick detour. I need to see someone first.” As they entered the conference room, Isabella immediately recognized the man seated inside, his back turning toward them. Frowning, Arthur rolled up his sleeves and smiled, exuding charm. “In a city this size, bumping into each other is inevitable. Since we’ve split, we might as well face it calmly.” Emily Langley had been chatting away with Henry but suddenly sensed his attention shift. She followed his gaze, and her smile faded. “Isabella.” Emily’s voice dripped with disbelief, almost accusatory. “What are you doing here?” Please don’t tell me she’s back to pestering Henry. Henry’s glare was cold as he took in Arthur Blackwood, who was pulling out a chair for Isabella. As if she owned the place. Seriously? The familiarity between the two was unsettling. He had no idea Isabella and Arthur were this close. What else was she hiding? Settling in, Arthur smiled. “Sir Charles invited us. Allow me to introduce you: Sir Charles, this is Isabella Lancaster, a researcher in targeted therapy.” After a brief conversation, Isabella and Arthur left. Emily clung possessively to Henry’s arm, her disbelief evident. “How is she connected to Robert...?” Once divorced, they should be done with each other. Isabella’s presence meant Henry would be seeing her all the time now, and Emily wouldn’t stand for that. Henry pulled his arm away sharply, irritation bubbling beneath the surface. “They don’t need to put on a show for us. I’ve got details to sort out with them. You should head home.” “Really? You’re just going to let her waltz back into your life? She’s the one who—” “Enough.” Henry cut her off, his voice low but filled with rage, like ice. “How do you know all this?” Emily gulped, gripping her clothes nervously. “I overheard my uncle mention it. Don’t be mad, please. You’re scaring me.” “This has nothing to do with you.” Henry’s voice dripped with disdain as he turned away. Just thinking about Isabella and Arthur laughing together while he was forced to endure Emily’s questioning made Henry’s blood boil. He reached for his phone. “Find out how Mrs. Lancaster knows Arthur Blackwood.” “Yes, Sir Charles,” came the clipped response. After a pause, the voice continued, “Old Man Ashford called. He wants you back at Old Manor.” Henry rarely returned these days; not since Margaret Ashford's passing had he stepped foot in the old house unless there was a pressing reason. Ashford Manor was a tranquil oasis amidst the chaos, steeped in history. Approaching, Henry could see two figures in the living room. The younger man smiled as Henry walked in. “Henry!” he greeted. “Hello, brother,” Henry replied coolly before addressing Old Thomas Ashford. “You called for me?” “I heard you’re divorcing Isabella.” Old Thomas’s gaze held a weight that suggested he knew more than he let on. “Nothing gets past you, does it?” Henry retorted, sarcasm thick in his tone. “It’s just a signed agreement; no need to rush to judgment.” Unfazed by Henry’s coldness, Old Thomas waved his elder son away and leaned in, “I didn’t support you marrying her before. Her background is humble, and let’s not forget she’s the one who harmed your mother. You were stubborn back then, but it’s for the best if you’ve opened your eyes now.” A deep sigh escaped him. “It’s better to finalize this as soon as possible.” “I can handle my affairs without your input.” After Henry left, Charles appeared, shadows lining his features. “Father, Henry looks to be investigating mother’s death. I'm worried…” Old Thomas shot him a sharp glance, his patience running thin. After all he's been through, how could he raise a son so cautious? “What’s there to fear? If the sky falls, I’ll be underneath it.” Charles dipped his head, muttering, “Yes, sir.” Once Isabella returned home, a flood of memories hit her. It had been three years since she arrived in Southborough at her father’s insistence, aiming to push a project forward—only to end up a victim of foul play, losing her memory in the process. Now back at her old residence, nostalgia washed over her. Her phone rang. “Dad?” “Why was your phone unreachable?” His authoritative voice carried concern. “A few complications, but it’s all sorted now.” “Good.” He pressed on, “Just take care of yourself out there. Resolve things quickly and come back. It’s time for both families to meet.” Right, there was also that other engagement looming. Isabella felt a headache forming. Knock, knock, knock. A timely interruption. “I gotta go, Dad. We’ll talk later.” She opened the door to find Henry standing there. “What are you doing here?” “Not me? Who else would it be?” Henry stormed inside, his presence radiating frustration and dominance. “Isabella Lancaster, I’m giving you one last chance…” “To do what?” she raised an eyebrow defiantly. “Meet me at the Municipal Borough Council tomorrow.” Her heart raced at the intensity of his expression, each word punctuated as if he was laying down a gauntlet. “What did you just say?”
Chapter 4
Municipal Borough Council “Let’s hit up the Municipal Borough Council tomorrow,” Isabella Lancaster said casually, leaning against the doorframe. Henry Ashford’s expression turned feral, his eyes narrowed, “What did you just say?” Isabella shrugged, a hint of defiance glinting in her eyes. “If it’s about getting back together, forget it. You know what you’re acting like? Like a kid who just lost a favorite toy—adjustment issues. Once you find something else to cling to, you’ll forget all about it.” “What about you?” Henry shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You were practically begging for me back a few years ago, and now you’re acting all high and mighty. What’s up? Did you find yourself a boy toy?” A flash of rage crossed his features. Without missing a beat, Isabella slapped him across the face. Henry didn’t flinch; instead, he grinned like a wolf, ready to pounce. He lunged toward her, but Isabella stepped aside with a practiced ease. “Henry, if you want to lose your mind, take it to the streets.” But Henry’s anger took the reins, and soon they were locked in a chaotic sparring match. Furniture was thrown as chaos erupted in the once neat room. Breathing hard, Isabella glanced at her ex-husband—looking like a rabid wolf—and snapped, “We’re done. This marriage is over.” Henry, slightly winded but still hovering in a mood of defiance, chuckled darkly. “This was more fun than working out. I’ll be waiting for my turn.” And with that, he strutted out like a peacock, full of bravado. Later, at a furniture store with her friend Elizabeth Fairchild, Isabella couldn't shake her confusion. “Is he out of his mind? Comes over just to fight?” Elizabeth scrolled through her phone, raising an eyebrow at the screen. “Let it go, it’s all in the past. Just get the divorce done.” But moments later, fury ignited within Elizabeth. “And he’s taking that woman to her prenatal appointments? Like he thinks no one knows he’s cheating or something.” Isabella chuckled despite herself. “Wasn’t it you who said it’s all the past? Why should I care?” “But you’re still married! He’s just disrespecting you as the real Mrs. Ashford.” “Honestly, I’m past caring, so there’s nothing to disrespect.” Elizabeth frowned at her. “So what’s the plan if he won’t agree to the divorce?” “We’ve already signed the papers. That’s not going to change.” Isabella had a plan of her own. But Henry seemed to have learned something from their last spat; no matter how many times Isabella called or texted, he weaseled out, always claiming he was too busy. So Isabella took matters into her own hands, calling for backup. --- At Ashford Enterprises, Henry was glued to his phone, barely touching his work. David Hawke stopped by to pick up some papers, expecting to see a flurry of activity but instead finding Henry in a daze. “Sir Charles Ashford.” “Yeah, I’ll get to that in a bit,” Henry replied, serious now, his eyes clouded with concern. “How’s Emily doing in the hospital?” David nodded, knowing how close Emily and Henry were. “She’s doing better since you talked to her last, but she got anxious when she found out Isabella’s supervising her mom’s treatment. She’s worried about dealing with Isabella." Henry frowned, hating that Emily felt that way. “She doesn’t have to worry about anything. Just tell her to stay calm.” “Maybe you should go see her? She could use the support, especially now that she’s started feeling the morning sickness.” Henry sighed. He realized he’d been neglecting Emily and, knowing her mother’s cancer battle was heavy on her mind, decided to head over after work. When he stepped into the parking lot after a long day, he was surprised to run into Isabella. “Isabella? What are you doing here?” David's tone was laced with disbelief. They’d just signed divorce papers—why was she still all up in Henry’s space? Henry, however, was more focused on Isabella’s appearance. She wore a crisp white blouse paired with a light-colored skirt that clung just right, exuding elegance and confidence. It stirred something in him. “What brings you here?” he asked, a soft smile creeping onto his lips as he reached for her hand. Isabella jerked it away, her voice icy. “I’m taking you to the Municipal Borough Council.” Henry’s excitement faded, replaced with a sulking demeanor. “No way.” Isabella stepped back, feigning nonchalance, and waved a hand in the air. Suddenly, several men in black suits arrived, marching toward him. Henry's expression changed, the color draining from his face as realization hit him. “Isabella, you wouldn’t dare—” “Dare?” Isabella smirked, directing the men to untie the ropes from their car. “You’d better come along quietly. If you don’t want to make a scene, we’re heading to the Municipal Borough Council to settle this.” With a glare that could cut steel, Henry seethed. He was furiously bound and shoved into the backseat, his mind racing. “If you think I didn’t satisfy you before and that’s why you want this divorce, give me another chance—” The bodyguards closed off their ears, pretending they heard nothing, shocked by how their employer acted like a total jerk. “Shut up,” Isabella snapped, her patience at its end, and commanded them, “Gag him.” Once Henry’s mouth was silenced, he couldn’t voice his protests, but his eyes followed Isabella, devouring her with his gaze. Uncomfortable under his stare, Isabella finally pulled into the parking lot of the Municipal Borough Council. As soon as Henry’s mouth was free, he smirked, “Hey, look at that—clocking out early.”
Chapter 5
It was after five, and Henry Ashford could finally breathe a sigh of relief as he strutted out of the office. “Time to head home,” he declared, a victorious grin lighting up his face. Isabella Lancaster, however, had other business to attend to. After a quick phone call, she watched as the doors of the Municipal Borough Council swung open again, and Henry found himself reconsidering just how unordinary his wife truly was. A cheerful council worker approached them. “Name?” “Isabella Lancaster,” she replied confidently. The male worker’s expression soured. “Not on the list,” he snapped, his irritation bubbling to the surface. Isabella remained unruffled, her demeanor cool and composed as her husband glared, caught in the throes of humiliation. She cleared her throat delicately. “Are both parties in agreement to divorce?” “Yes,” he muttered, though his voice dripped with sarcasm. “You know what you need to say,” she shot back, cutting through the tension. “Mr. Ashford,” the worker interjected, forcing a smile. “Please cooperate.” Henry couldn’t sit still, his anxiety radiating like a thunderstorm on the horizon. Isabella glanced at him knowingly. “If you’re waiting for Oliver, just forget it. He’s not coming.” That set him on edge. Isabella laid a hand gently on his shoulder. “I’m not forcing you to sign this, Henry. You agreed to it, so stop stalling.” The worker tried not to intrude on their marital spats, but the buildup was pointless. “Could you please just sign here?” Without hesitation, Isabella took the pen and signed. “Mr. Ashford…” the worker prompted. “My hands are tied,” Henry snapped, gritting his teeth, eyes burning with fury. Isabella studied him for a moment, realizing the danger of loosening his bonds. “He’s injured; I’ll sign for him,” she decided, looking at the worker. His clenched fists revealed his simmering rage, the muscles in his arms tense with pent-up emotion. The worker felt the electric atmosphere, acutely aware that defying Henry Ashford in Southborough was akin to courting disaster. “Miss Isabella, I—” “No need,” she interrupted, firmly pushing the papers back toward the worker. She took the small green booklet, rising from her seat, but a menacing stare held her in place. “Isabella Lancaster, do you understand what happens to those who cross me?” The worker hastily freed Henry’s hands. This was Henry’s last shot. Isabella turned back to him, her eyes cold yet empathetic. “The targeted drugs are in clinical trials. If you want to save lives, then let’s end this marriage peacefully.” Henry’s lips pressed tighter, but his phone buzzed. It was a message from his assistant, William Bennett. —Sir Charles Ashford, Emily Langley just arrived at Old Thomas Ashford. “Fine,” he grumbled. Isabella’s heart twisted. In the tug-of-war between her and Emily Langley, it was clear that Henry’s loyalty would always lean toward others. “Good. Let’s collaborate gracefully,” she said, attempting to mask the pain. As Henry finished his cigarette, a discreet, sleek black car floated up to the curb, an attractive young man stepping out just as Henry kicked his way out of the council office. William was flabbergasted. “Ma’am, both Old Thomas and a team of us came to stop it! Even if I had wings, I couldn’t have flown fast enough." Once seated, and with legs crossed, William signaled the driver before turning to Henry. “Sir Charles, it’s really over.” Henry offered him a glance that sent him retreating into silence. The usual roles were flipped: wasn’t it always Isabella chasing him while he shrugged her off? “Back to Old Thomas?” William asked. “No, home.” William was all too aware that “home” meant only one place—the marital residence where Henry and Isabella had spent three years together: Greenfield Gardens. When they arrived, William concluded, “I’ll head back to the office then.” “Join me for a drink,” Henry replied, suppressing his usual curt demeanor. Inside, the chaotic state of the living room hit William like a wall—bottles littered the floor where a once-pristine home now lay in disarray. Henry donned his jacket, headed straight for the liquor cabinet, and retrieved a couple of bottles. William couldn’t shake the feeling that his boss was drowning his sorrows. But why? For three years, Isabella had gently nurtured Henry, always considering him. Arguably, many speculated Isabella married him for his wealth, but that girl had a light in her eyes that spoke of genuine love—a stark contrast to Henry’s distant demeanor. Now, watching Henry sit on the floor, consumed by despair and silent storms, left William perplexed. His phone buzzed twice, jolting him back. With cautious urgency, he read the screen, his eyes widening. “Sir Charles, we have a situation…” A headline blared across screens: **“Ashford Family Patriarch Expecting An Heir.”** Two photos accompanied the article: Henry entering a hospital and Emily Langley cradling her burgeoning belly while heading into Ashford Manor. The comments section erupted. Elizabeth Fairchild and the commenters exchanged heated words. As Isabella and Arthur Blackwood emerged from a meeting, they found Elizabeth embroiled in a fray, and shared a look. Arthur chuckled, shedding his lab coat. “What’s all the fuss?” “Just the usual nonsense about my ex. What a mess,” Elizabeth huffed. Arthur turned to Isabella. “Gossip getting to you?” Isabella shook her head. “It’s a lost cause; we’re done.” “Right. I totally forgot about that!” Elizabeth exclaimed, shaking her head clear. “Let’s focus on what’s next. So, how did the trials go?” “Are you doubting her abilities?” Arthur said, taking a seat. Isabella picked up where she left off, her confidence rekindling slowly. It felt a bit weird, getting back into the swing of things, but she was getting there. “Let’s celebrate tonight, then! We’ll mark your newfound freedom!” Elizabeth proposed, a twinkle in her eye. Arthur nodded. “Sounds good to me.” “I’ll cover the bill,” Isabella offered. “I’m heading out of Southborough soon.” Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “Why? Is it because of that loser?” “Not at all.” Henry Ashford had firmly lodged himself in her rearview mirror, as far as Elizabeth was concerned. Isabella found warmth in their concern, admitting softly, “I haven’t been back home in ages. It’s time to check in.” “Home?” Elizabeth queried, her curiosity piqued. “I don’t think I even know where that is.” “Wait—why don’t you let Arthur accompany you? I worry about you traveling alone,” Elizabeth suggested. Isabella chuckled, “Alright, why not.”
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