Chapter 44 Destroying is the only way
Isla's POV:
"You were right, Max." I said reluctantly. I stood on the beach watching him prepare his surfboard, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the sand. He was checking the wax, testing the fin placement, moving with the kind of easy confidence that came from years of practice.
"The more I try to fix things with Chase," I continued, "the more I try to convince my Dad that I'm worthy... the more they mess with me. It's like I'm feeding some monster that only gets hungrier."
Max straightened, turning to face me fully. His blue eyes caught the sunlight, making them almost luminescent. There was no pity in his expression, no condescension... just understanding and something fierce that made my breath catch.
"There's my girl," he said, a slight smile tugging at his lips, sending an unexpected warmth through my chest.
"Come on," he continued, stepping closer until he was right in front of me. "Let it out. All that anger you're holding inside, all that tension you've been carrying like a burden—let it out. Stop swallowing it down, stop trying to be the good daughter, the reasonable ex-girlfriend. Feel it. Own it."
His hands came to rest on my shoulders, grounding me.
"And now... channel it all in his direction. We're going to destroy him tonight."
I blinked, processing his words. "That damn invitation... I didn't even think of going there. Why would I walk into his trap?"
"That's exactly where we should go," Max said, his grip tightening slightly on my shoulders, looking deadly serious now, all traces of his usual playfulness gone. "That party, that engagement celebration where he's parading Laura around like a trophy—that's where we're going to break him."
"How?" I asked, my voice small.
"He has arrogance," Max interrupted. "And arrogance is a weakness we can exploit. Trust me, Veronica. Tonight, we make him pay."
The Bellamy estate was even more extravagant than I'd imagined.
Sprawling gardens lit by thousands of tiny lights, a mansion that looked like it belonged in a European fairy tale, and valets in crisp uniforms directing luxury cars to designated parking spots.
I stepped out of Max's car wearing a dress that made me feel like a weapon.
Deep emerald green silk that clung to every curve, a plunging neckline that walked the line between elegant and dangerous, and a slit that went high enough to make people look twice.
My hair was swept up in an elegant updo, a few strategic strands framing my face. Diamond earrings—borrowed from Macy, who apparently had an impressive collection—sparkled at my ears.
I looked like I belonged here. Like I was someone who mattered.
Max came around the car to stand beside me, and I heard the collective intake of breath from the crowd near the entrance.
He wore a perfectly tailored black suit... a crisp white shirt open at the collar. No tie—too formal, too conventional for Max. His tattoos were mostly hidden but occasionally visible at his wrists... His dark hair was styled but still maintained that deliberately tousled look that made him appear effortlessly handsome.
Heads turned. Of course they did.
Every woman's gaze locked onto Max like he was a magnet, their eyes trailing over his broad shoulders, his confident stride, the way he moved with predatory grace.
Whispers started immediately—who was he? Where was he from?
Was he single?
The men's gazes, meanwhile, landed on me. Some appreciative, some calculating—
We made it exactly ten steps inside before Chase materialized in front of us.
He looked like hell... His eyes darted between Max and me, settling on me with an intensity that would have made the old Veronica shrink back.
"I told you to come alone," he hissed, venomous. He stepped closer, invading my space, trying to intimidate me with his proximity. "Why the fuck are you still with him?"
"Can I inform your Dad now?" he continued, pulling out his phone. "Should I call him right this second and tell him his daughter is here, at my engagement party, with Maximilian Middleton? How do you think he'll react to that, Veronica?"
Previously—even just yesterday—I would have said no. I would have panicked, grabbed his arm, begged him not to make that call. I would have promised to do whatever he wanted, agreed to any terms, just to impress my father.
But now, I stood still. Unflinching.
"Stop using my Dad to control me, will you?" I said, cold and steady. I met Chase's gaze without flinching, without backing down. "You invited me to your engagement party or whatever hell this is, and I just came with a date... Duh."
Max chuckled beside me—that made me feel powerful. "She's got claws," he murmured, just loud enough for Chase to hear. "She is not weak anymore."
Chase's face flushed red...
He looked between us, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. The other guests were starting to notice the confrontation, conversations trailing off as people turned to watch.
"Stop acting cool," Chase snapped. "You think you're being brave right now? You think you're winning?" He stepped even closer, trying to use his height advantage to tower over me. "Your father told you he would disown you, Veronica. Disown you. Do you understand what that means? No inheritance, no family support, no safety net. You'll be cut off completely."
He paused, letting the words sink in.
"Is that what you want?" he continued, his voice dripping with false concern. "Don't you want to impress Daddy? Don't you want him to finally look at you the way you've always dreamed about? You want his love, don't you?"
Each question was designed to hit where it hurt most. To remind me of my deepest wounds, my most desperate desires.
The old Veronica would have crumbled. Would have felt those words like knives, cutting through every defense she'd built.
But I wasn't her anymore.
"No."
His eyes widened slightly, genuine surprise across his features.
"No," I repeated, stronger now, more certain. "I don't want that anymore. I don't care about impressing my father. I don't care about winning his approval or earning his love or proving I'm worthy of the space I take up in his world."
I stepped forward now, closing the distance Chase had tried to create, getting right in his face.
"All I want to do," I said slowly, "is destroy you, Chase. That's it. That's my only goal now. Not redemption, not reconciliation, not forgiveness. Just your complete and total destruction."
I smiled then—cold, dangerous, nothing like the smiles I used to give him.
"And I will," I promised. "Before this night is over, everyone in this room will know exactly what you are. And Laura—sweet, naive Laura will see through your mask. Your reputation, your engagement, your smug sense of superiority... I'm going to burn it all down."
Chase stared at me, his mouth slightly open, clearly not expecting this version of me.
Max's hand pressed more firmly against my back.
"Now," I said, my voice returning to conversational tones, "if you'll excuse us, we have a party to attend. Don't worry—we'll be sure to congratulate Laura on her upcoming nuptials. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to meet us."
I brushed past Chase, Max following immediately, leaving him standing there in stunned silence.