Chapter 71
Chapter 71
Isabella's POV
The hospital room door opened. Salome walked in. Elegant suit. Composed face. Sharp eyes scanning everything.
She saw me in the bed. Hospital gown. Pale makeup removed deliberately. Performance continuing even in private.
"Isabella."
"Salome."
She came closer. Sat in the chair beside my bed. Looked at me carefully. Reading. Analyzing. Knowing.
"Everyone's gone? We're alone?"
"Yes. David left to confront Yvonne. Nurses are outside. We can talk."
Her expression changed. From concerned mother to calculating partner. From family to conspirator.
"Tell me. How did it go?"
"Perfectly. Everything went exactly as planned. Better than planned actually."
"She took the bait?"
"Completely. Shoved me just like I knew she would. The rest played out perfectly."
"And David believed everything?"
"Every word. Every tear. Every moment. He suspects nothing."
Salome nodded slowly. Approval mixed with caution. Planning mixed with warning.
"And the doctor?"
"Delivered the news perfectly. David has no reason to doubt anything."
"Good. But Isabella."
"What?"
"What if David finds out? What if he discovers you faked the pregnancy? That the miscarriage was false?"
I looked at her. Really looked. Saw the concern there. The practical worry. The strategic thinking.
"He won't find out."
"How can you be sure?"
"Because I did everything clean. No traces. No evidence. The doctor is loyal. Everything looks exactly as it should."
"Records can be investigated. Doctors can be questioned. Loyalty breaks under pressure."
"David won't investigate. He has no reason to doubt. He saw what he saw. Believes what he believes."
"And if Yvonne keeps pushing? Keeps accusing you?"
"She has no proof. Just theories. Just desperate words from a violent woman."
Salome stood. Walked to the window. Thinking. Processing.
"This was risky. More risky than previous moves. You need to finish your revenge quickly now. Very quickly. Before anyone starts questioning."
"I know. I'm accelerating everything. Marcus is moving pieces. David's company is nearly destroyed. Yvonne is publicly ruined. It's almost complete."
"Almost isn't done. Done is done. Finish it. Soon. This week if possible."
"I will. Just a few more moves. Just a few more days. Then it's finished."
She turned from the window. Expression serious. Voice firm.
"And then what? After revenge is complete? What happens to you?"
Alexander's question. The same haunting question. The one I couldn't answer.
"I don't know."
"You should know. Revenge isn't a future. It's just an ending."
"I'll figure it out after. When justice is served."
"Lucia is dead. You're Isabella now. And Isabella needs something beyond destruction."
"I'll think about it later. After. When it's finished."
Before Salome could respond, the door opened. David walked in. Face tight. Body tense.
Salome's expression shifted instantly. From strategic partner to grieving mother. From conspirator to heartbroken parent.
"David."
He stopped. Saw her. Straightened slightly. Uncomfortable. Guilty. Exactly as needed.
"Salome. I didn't know you'd be here. I'm sorry. I should have called first."
"You should have prevented this. That's what you should have done."
Her voice cold. Accusing. Blaming. Adding to his guilt. Twisting the knife deeper.
"I tried. I left Yvonne. I chose Isabella. I did everything to protect her."
"Yet my daughter lies in a hospital bed having lost her baby. Your baby. My grandchild. Because your wife attacked her in public."
"Ex wife. Soon to be officially. I'm filing everything tomorrow."
"Tomorrow. How comforting. Meanwhile my grandchild is dead. My daughter is traumatized. My family is destroyed."
"I know. I'm sorry. I'm so deeply sorry. This is all my fault."
Perfect. He was accepting blame. Taking responsibility. Adding guilt to guilt. Breaking further.
"Your fault? Your wife's violence is your fault?"
"My mess. My failed marriage. My inability to protect Isabella properly. Yes. My fault."
Salome moved closer to him. Imposing. Powerful. Demanding. Exactly what this performance needed.
"You will deal with your issues with that woman. Properly. Legally. Permanently. Or you will never come close to my daughter again. Do you understand?"
"Yes. Completely. I'm divorcing her. Immediately. Officially. Publicly."
"That's not enough. You'll give Isabella a title. A status. A protection. You'll marry her. Make her your wife. Give her what that violent woman stole from her."
David looked at me. Eyes full of devotion. Of love. Of guilty determination. Of everything I'd manipulated into existence.
"I will. I promise. As soon as the divorce is final. As soon as it's legal. I'll marry Isabella. I'll give her everything. I'll make this right."
"You can't make losing a baby right. But you can try. You can commit. You can choose properly."
"I am choosing. I chose Isabella. I chose our future. I chose right."
Salome looked at him for a long moment. Let the tension hang. Let the guilt sit. Let the performance continue.
"See that you do. Or you'll answer to me. And trust me. You don't want that."
She walked to my bed. Kissed my forehead. Gentle. Loving. Perfect mother performance.
"Rest. Heal. Grieve. I'll handle everything else. Just focus on recovery."
"Thank you, Salome. For everything. For being here."
"Always. You're all I have. I protect what's mine."
She left. Door closing behind her. Leaving me alone with David. With guilt. With devotion. With complete manipulation.
He came to the bed. Sat down. Took my hand. Held it like something precious. Something fragile. Something he'd failed to protect.
"I'm so sorry. For everything. For not protecting you. For bringing Yvonne into your life. For our baby."
I let tears fall. Easy tears. Performance tears. Practiced tears. Effective tears.
"It's not your fault. It's hers. Yvonne did this. Yvonne killed our baby. Yvonne destroyed everything."
"I know. And she'll pay. I promise she'll pay. For all of it."
"She will. She already is. But it doesn't bring our baby back. Doesn't fix what she broke. Doesn't heal what she destroyed."
"Nothing will fix it. I know. But I can try. I can commit. I can choose you. Forever. Completely. Legally."
"Marry me?"
"Yes. As soon as I can. As soon as the divorce is final. I want you to be my wife. Want us to be a real family. Want to do this right."
More tears. More performance. More manipulation. More lies wrapped in grief wrapped in fake blood wrapped in revenge.
"I'd like that. When I'm ready. When I've healed. When the grief isn't so fresh."
"Whenever you're ready. No pressure. No timeline. Just know I'm here. I'm committed. I'm yours."
"And Yvonne? What about her?"
His face hardened. Rage replacing guilt. Hatred replacing love. Exactly what I'd built. Exactly what I'd wanted.
"Yvonne is done. Finished. I told her I'm seeking full custody of her baby when it's born. Told her she'll never have unsupervised access. Told her she's violent and dangerous and unfit."
"She'll fight it."
"Let her try. Any judge will see what she is. What she did. What she's capable of. She won't win. Can't win. Has already lost."
Perfect. He was destroying her completely. Taking her baby. Finishing what I'd started. Being my weapon without knowing it.
"She said something to me. Before she pushed me. Something about you being manipulated. About me destroying you from inside. About staging everything."
His jaw clenched. His hand tightened on mine. His whole body tensed with renewed anger.
"She's insane. Desperate. Saying anything to shift blame. Don't listen to her words. Don't give them space. Don't let them poison you."
"I won't. I know what's real. I know what happened. I know who hurt me. Who killed our baby. Who destroyed everything."
"Yvonne. Only Yvonne. Always Yvonne. Nobody else."
"Yes. Exactly. Yvonne did this. Yvonne is responsible. Yvonne deserves everything coming to her."
He nodded. Believed. Trusted. Accepted. Exactly as manipulated. Exactly as planned. Exactly as destroyed.
I'd won. Completely. Yvonne was ruined publicly. David was devoted completely. Salome approved cautiously.
The fake pregnancy. The fake miscarriage. The fake blood. The real violence. The perfect crime.
All successful. All believed. All working. All destroying exactly who I wanted destroyed.
Yvonne. David. Everyone. Including maybe myself.
But that was later. That was after. That was when revenge was complete.
For now? For this moment? For this perfect execution?
Just satisfaction. Just victory. Just success. Just winning.
Completely. Finally. Perfectly. Devastatingly.
Everything working. Everything planned. Everything succeeding.
Just as designed. Just as executed. Just as deserved.
The perfect crime. The perfect revenge. The perfect destruction.
Of everyone. Including eventually me. But not yet. Not today. Not while revenge still progressed.
Just later. When it was done. When they were destroyed. When nothing remained.
Then I'd face what I'd become. What I'd done. What remained of me.
But not now. Not yet. Not while winning felt this good. This powerful. This complete.
Later. Eventually. Soon enough.
But not today. Today was victory. Today was success. Today was revenge progressing perfectly.
And that was enough. For now. For this moment. For this perfect crime.
Completely. Finally. Absolutely. Devastatingly.
Enough.