Chapter 121

"Are we really going to keep doing this forever?"

Isabella's fingers tightened around the car door handle. She inhaled sharply, her eyes burning with fury. "I've said everything I needed to say. If you still refuse to believe me, then there's nothing left to discuss!"

"Did we meet before? A long time ago?"

Nathaniel's voice was desperate, his body unconsciously leaning closer, nearly pressing against her slender back. "Isabella, tell me the truth. Did we know each other before?"

Her heart clenched, lips paling. "You're imagining things. The first time we met was the day your grandfather arranged our marriage. There was nothing before that."

She couldn't let him find out.

She couldn't let him know she was the girl who saved him all those years ago.

Their marriage was over. What good would it do to dredge up thirteen years of unrequited love? To expose how pathetically she'd chased after him?

Isabella Sinclair had her pride. She refused to let him see how deeply she'd once loved him.

How humiliating.

Nathaniel's expression darkened, disappointment flickering in his gaze. Something didn't add up.

"Let go. I need to get my things and leave." Her voice shook as she forced the car door open.

"Isabella."

"Stop asking! Just stop!"

Her voice cracked like a whip, sharp and brittle. "We're divorced, Nathaniel. Do you understand what that means? Why are you digging into the past? What does it matter if I was in love with you once? I don't love you anymore. Every time I see these things I gave you, every time I see you, I feel sick!"

In love.

The words echoed in his mind, drowning out everything else.

He froze, then abruptly turned her around, gripping her shoulders.

Her eyes were red.

"You can cry if you need to," he murmured, voice rough but softer than before.

"Cry?" She let out a bitter laugh. "Can't you see I'm furious? Divorcing you was the best decision I ever made. I laugh about it in my sleep. Why would I cry?"

Her gaze was icy, chest rising with each furious breath. "The moment I signed those papers, I swore I'd never shed another tear for you. Never again."

The words cut deeper than she intended.

Before he could respond, a knock interrupted them.

"Mr. Nathaniel, are you in there?"

The butler's voice was polite. "Ms. Victoria is here. She's waiting for you downstairs, sir."

Isabella's vision darkened, storm clouds gathering.

Nathaniel's expression turned thunderous.

Downstairs, Victoria paced anxiously.

Servants whispered in the shadows, eyes darting between her and the staircase.

Everyone knew his ex-wife was here. If the two women crossed paths, it would be explosive.

"Nathaniel!" Victoria spotted him descending the stairs and flung herself into his arms, clinging desperately.

He stiffened, hands hovering over her shoulders—ready to push her away, but she held on like a drowning woman clutching driftwood.

"I missed you so much," she sobbed into his chest. "I was wrong, I know I was! I just—I lost control. You know me, Nathaniel. We grew up together!"

She was following Elspeth's advice—play the heartbroken lover, let tears soften him.

But when she heard Isabella was back in his life, she couldn't wait any longer.

"Victoria." His voice lacked its usual warmth. "I told you it's better if we don't see each other right now. Go home."

"Why?" Her tears fell like rain, perfectly timed.

"Yeah, why?"

A cool voice cut through the tension.

Everyone looked up.

Isabella descended the stairs, suitcase in hand, chin lifted. Elegant. Composed.

A stark contrast to Victoria's tear-streaked face.

Victoria tightened her grip on Nathaniel, shooting Isabella a venomous glare.

The air crackled with tension.

Nathaniel's hands flexed on Victoria's shoulders—ready to shove her away.

But to Isabella, it looked like an embrace.

She just wanted to go home. To scrub away every trace of him. Anything he'd touched felt tainted.

"Ms. Victoria is your fiancée," Isabella said sweetly. "She came all this way to see you. How could you turn her away? How heartless." She smirked. "Don't worry, I'm just collecting my things. I'll be out of your way soon. Carry on—time is precious, after all."

Nathaniel's jaw clenched, face paling then flushing with anger.

Victoria, still sniffling, didn't dare provoke Isabella again—not after the humiliation at the birthday party.

"Oh, and one more thing." Isabella adjusted her grip on the suitcase. "I'm leaving behind everything I ever gave you. Especially the gifts. When you move in, do me a favor and throw them out. Keeping an ex's belongings is bad luck—terrible for new relationships."

With that, she strode past them.

Victoria and the servants stood frozen.

Isabella felt no jealousy. Only triumph.

As she stepped outside, Nathaniel finally snapped. He shoved Victoria away—hard.

She crashed into a side table, shattering porcelain, dress torn, wrist bleeding.

Upstairs, Glynnis watched, seething.

Isabella walked briskly down the driveway, slippers slapping against the pavement.

"Isabella! Wait!" Nathaniel called after her, desperation raw in his voice.

She didn't slow down.

"Mr. Nathaniel! I have Mrs. Kingsley's shoes!"

Gordon rushed forward, sweating, holding a luxury shopping bag.

Nathaniel snatched it and blocked Isabella's path.

"Here." He thrust the bag at her.

She glanced down, took it without a word, and kept walking.

For a fleeting moment, satisfaction warmed his chest—she'd accepted something from him.

Then—

Crash.

The shoes hit the trash can with a hollow thud.

Gordon gasped.

Nathaniel stood stunned, watching as Isabella walked away without a backward glance.

His expression—shattered.

Like a man who'd just lost everything.