Chapter 145 Chapter 145

Chapter 145 Chapter 145
Chapter 145

The moment froze. Isabella standing in the doorway, gun pointed at Sienna, finger on the trigger, ready to pull it, ready to end everything.

Then movement. Fast. From everywhere at once.

Guards appeared from behind pillars, from side alcoves, from places Isabella hadn’t even noticed. Ten of them. Maybe more. All in dark suits, all professional, all with their own weapons drawn and aimed directly at Isabella’s head.

Red laser dots appeared on her forehead, on her chest, on her hands. Targeting her from every angle. Surrounding her completely.

Isabella’s eyes went wide. Shock replaced the madness for just a second as she realized what was happening, as she understood she’d walked into something she hadn’t expected.

“Put the gun down,” one of the guards commanded, voice calm but absolute.

Isabella didn’t move. Couldn’t move. Her brain tried to process how this happened, how they knew, how they were ready.

Then Landon spoke from the altar, his voice carrying through the church with a coldness Isabella had never heard from him before.

“Did you really think you were going to win?”

Isabella’s head snapped toward him. Landon stood there still holding Sienna’s hand, but his face had changed. The groom who’d just cried through his vows was gone. In his place was the CEO, the businessman, the man who controlled empires and crushed anyone who threatened what was his.

“How?” Isabella choked out, gun still raised but wavering now, uncertainty creeping in.

Landon’s mind flashed back. A day ago. His office. Evan bursting in with news that changed everything.

“Sir,” Evan had said, breathless like he’d run the whole way. “Isabella escaped. The facility just called. She’s gone.”

Landon had felt his blood turn to ice. Then to fire. Then to something cold and calculating.

“When?” he’d asked.

“Last night. They didn’t realize until morning count. She could be anywhere by now.”

Landon had sat there for a long moment, thinking, planning, deciding. Then he’d picked up his phone and called Noah.

His brother had arrived within minutes.

“She escaped,” Landon had said without preamble.

“What?” Noah had gone pale. “We need to tell Sienna, we need to cancel the wedding, we need to...”

“No,” Landon had interrupted, firm and final. “We don’t tell anyone. Especially not Sienna.”

“Are you insane?” Noah had asked. “Isabella is out there, she’s dangerous, she’ll...”

“She’ll come to the wedding,” Landon had finished. “I know she will. She can’t help herself. She’ll want to destroy it, to stop it, to make some grand gesture.”

Noah had stared at his brother, understanding dawning.

“You want to use the wedding as bait,” Noah had said slowly.

“I want to end this,” Landon had corrected. “Once and for all. No more running. No more looking over our shoulders. No more wondering when she’ll come back.”

He’d leaned forward, absolute certainty in his voice.

“We set a trap. We bring in extra security, armed guards, position them throughout the church. We let Isabella think she has a chance. Let her walk right into it.”

“And Sienna?” Noah had asked. “You’re going to let her stand up there not knowing Isabella might show up?”

“I’m going to protect her,” Landon had said. “Better than I protected her before. This time I’ll be ready. This time Isabella won’t get close enough to hurt her.”

Noah had looked at his brother for a long moment, seeing the determination there, the cold rage barely controlled, the willingness to do whatever it took.

“Okay,” Noah had finally agreed. “But if anything goes wrong...”

“It won’t,” Landon had promised.

And he’d been right.

Back in the present, Landon took a step forward, putting himself between Isabella and Sienna even though guards surrounded them all.

“How does it feel?” he asked Isabella, voice quiet but cutting. “How does it feel to fall into my trap?”

Isabella’s face twisted. Rage replacing shock. Madness coming back full force.

“You knew,” she hissed. “You knew I’d come.”

“Of course I knew,” Landon said. “I know you, Isabella. I know you can’t let go. Can’t move on. Can’t accept that you lost.”

“I didn’t lose!” Isabella screamed, gun shaking in her hand but still pointed in Sienna’s direction. “I love you! That doesn’t just disappear because you chose her!”

“It was never love,” Landon said, and the words were harsh, final, destroying. “It was obsession. It was sickness. It was everything wrong pretending to be something right.”

Tears started streaming down Isabella’s face, mixing with the rage, with the insanity, with everything broken inside her.

“You’re wrong,” she whispered. “You’re wrong. I love you more than she ever could. More than anyone ever could.”

“No,” Landon said simply. “You don’t even know what love is.”

Something in Isabella snapped. Completely. Finally. Irreversibly.

She laughed. High and manic and terrifying. The sound echoed through the church, making people who’d started to peek out from behind pews duck back down in fear.

“You think you won?” Isabella said through her laughter, through her tears, through her madness. “You think this is over?”

She looked at Sienna, really looked at her, at the woman in the wedding dress, at the woman with Landon’s baby inside her, at the woman who had everything Isabella wanted.

“I won’t let you win,” Isabella said, and her voice went cold, dead, certain. “If I can’t have him, nobody can. If I can’t have my happy ending, you don’t get yours.”

Her finger moved on the trigger. Just slightly. Just enough.

“No!” Landon shouted, moving to block Sienna completely.

Everything happened at once.

Isabella’s finger squeezed. The gun started to come up, aim refining, targeting Sienna’s heart, Sienna’s head, Sienna’s life.

But she never got the shot off.

The guard closest to her fired. One shot. Clean. Precise. Professional.

The bullet hit Isabella in the chest. Center mass. Exactly where he’d been trained to aim.

Isabella jerked backward. The gun fell from her hand, clattering on the marble floor. Her eyes went wide, not with pain yet but with surprise, with disbelief that this was happening, that she was the one bleeding instead of Sienna.

She stumbled. Her hand went to her chest, came away red. So much red. Blood spreading across the clothes Simeon had given her, soaking through fabric, dripping onto the pristine white marble of the church entrance.

“No,” Isabella whispered, looking at the blood on her hands like she couldn’t understand it. “No, this isn’t how it ends. This isn’t...”

Her legs gave out. She collapsed, falling hard, the impact jarring through her dying body.

She lay there in the doorway, in the entrance to the church where she’d planned to destroy everything, in a growing pool of her own blood that spread like wings around her, dark and terrible and final.

But she was still breathing. Barely. Each breath wet and rattling and weak. Each inhale a struggle. Each exhale possibly the last.

Her eyes found Landon. Even now. Even dying. She looked at him with longing, with love twisted into something unrecognizable, with everything she’d never let go of.

“Landon,” she whispered, blood bubbling at her lips. “I loved you. I really did. I just wanted you to love me back.”

Her hand reached out toward him. Shaking. Covered in blood. Searching for something she’d never find, never have, never deserve.

Landon stood frozen, watching her die, feeling nothing. No pity. No regret. No guilt for the trap he’d set that led to this moment.

Only relief. That it was over. That Sienna was safe. That Isabella would never threaten them again.

Isabella’s hand fell. Her breathing grew weaker. Each gasp more desperate. Each moment closer to the end she’d brought on herself.

Guests started emerging from hiding, horror on their faces, shock at what they’d just witnessed, at the violence that had invaded what should have been only joy.

Sienna stood behind Landon, her hand on his back, her other hand on her belly protecting their baby, her face pale but her eyes dry. She’d cried enough tears over Isabella. No more.

Medics were being called. Police sirens already wailing in the distance. Everything moving into action, protocols being followed, procedures being executed.

But Isabella just lay there. Still breathing. Still alive. But not for long.

Blood pooled around her, spreading across marble that had witnessed a thousand weddings, a thousand celebrations, a thousand happy beginnings.

Now it witnessed an ending. A death. A tragedy that was somehow inevitable from the moment Isabella decided love meant possession, meant control, meant destroying anything she couldn’t have.

Her eyes started to glaze over. Her breathing grew more shallow. Each breath weaker than the last.

And in the doorway of Saint Thomas Church, on what should have been the happiest day of Landon and Sienna’s lives, Isabella Hart lay dying in a pool of her own blood, alone, unloved, and unforgiven.

Still breathing.

But barely.

And getting weaker with every passing second.