Chapter 153: I Won't Give Up

Isabella's POV

I slammed my car door shut, still fuming from my confrontation with Mia.

Frustrated and needing a distraction, I grabbed my phone and started scrolling through the news. That's when I saw it—video after video of Cecilia Sterling's tear-streaked face, her usually perfect composure completely shattered.

I laughed despite my foul mood, watching the footage with growing satisfaction. Finally, I thought, savoring every moment of her pain. Who told that old bitch to refuse me when I wanted to be with Marcus all those years ago? This is exactly what she deserves.

The more I watched, the more my smile widened. Cecilia had always looked down on me, treating me like I wasn't worthy of the Sterling name. She'd made it clear that I would never be good enough for her precious son.

Well, look at her now—crying like a broken woman while her perfect family crumbled around her.

I could see Marcus in some of the footage, his jaw tight with barely controlled rage. Even though he was trying to contain his anger, I knew he was furious too. After all, Rowan was still his father, regardless of this mess. The news reporter mentioned he was at the hospital with his father.

My wolf perked up with sudden interest. If Marcus was vulnerable right now, dealing with family drama, maybe this was my chance to be the supportive fiancée he needed. Maybe I could finally break through that wall he kept between us.

But when I arrived at the hospital and saw him—my fiancé—holding Aria's wrist like she meant something to him, like I didn't even exist, my wolf started snarling inside my chest.

That fucking bitch. Why won't she just die already?

My ice-and-books scent turned sharp and cold, mixing with the acrid bite of pure rage.

"Are you trying to seduce my fiancé?" I asked, my voice cutting through the hospital corridor like a blade.

Both Marcus and Aria turned toward me. Marcus's expression was guarded, while Aria looked startled and then annoyed.

"She just helped my father," Marcus said carefully, his voice neutral. "I was thanking her."

Thanking her? Could I believe that?

These past few days, even though Marcus had agreed to the engagement, everything felt so perfunctory, so forced. Like he was just going through the motions to get it over with.

I stepped closer, my hand sliding possessively around Marcus's arm as I glared at Aria. "Don't even think about coveting what doesn't belong to you. Can you please just get lost?"

Aria's amber eyes flashed with anger. "I'm not trying to seduce your 'man,'" she said, putting deliberate emphasis on the word. "And I don't want to see you either."

Interesting. The old Aria would have shrunk away, maybe apologized even when she'd done nothing wrong. But this version had more fire, more backbone. It only made me angrier.

"Don't I know exactly what you're thinking?" I snapped back.

"I'm telling you for the last time," Aria said, her voice rising slightly. "I have no ulterior motives. You're always causing trouble for me for no reason. Can you please stay away from me?"

The audacity of this woman. Standing there acting innocent when she'd been disrupting my life for years. Without thinking, I raised my hand and slapped her hard across the face.

The sound echoed through the hallway. "I'm so fucking angry! She really should die!"

"Why did you hit her?" Marcus demanded, immediately stepping between us and pulling me back. His eyes were dark with anger—but not at Aria. At me.

"Are you feeling sorry for her?" I asked, my voice cracking slightly. "I'm your fiancée! You're feeling sorry for another woman!"

"I haven't been looking for her these past few days," Marcus said defensively.

These past few days. The words hit me like a physical blow. "You haven't been looking for her these past few days... but you still have her in your heart, don't you?"

I could see the truth in his eyes, even if he wouldn't say it out loud. The way he'd rushed to defend her, the way his body had instinctively moved to protect her from me. His own fiancée.

I shoved his hands away from me. "I can't do this anymore."

"Isabella—" he called after me, but I was already running.

I ran through the corridors, past concerned healers and confused visitors. I ran until I reached the parking garage, until I reached my car, until I could finally break down without an audience.

The drive home was a blur of tears and traffic lights. By the time I stumbled into my apartment, I was sobbing so hard I could barely breathe.

I collapsed onto my couch, still in my coat, and let the tears flow freely. What's the point of this engagement anymore? I thought desperately. I'm such a failure. He's like this, and I'm still trying to convince myself to be with him?

Five years. He'd never looked at me the way he looked at her. Even when we were alone, even when I was trying to seduce him, there was always this distance, this wall between us that I could never break through.

But with her? I'd seen the way his entire demeanor changed. The way his Alpha presence seemed to soften, the way his cold blue eyes warmed just slightly. She got the man I'd been fighting for all these years without even trying.

I pulled my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around myself as fresh sobs wracked my body.

My wolf was whimpering now, no longer snarling with rage but keening with the pain of rejection. Even she could feel how thoroughly we'd been dismissed, how little we meant to the man we'd claimed as ours.

The engagement ring on my finger felt heavy, like a chain rather than a promise. Was this really what I wanted? To marry a man who would never love me? To spend the rest of my life competing with the ghost of a woman he couldn't have?

No, I thought fiercely, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. I won't give up. Not after everything I've sacrificed to get here.

But even as I tried to steel my resolve, the image of Marcus protecting Aria flashed through my mind again. The way he'd stepped between us without hesitation, the anger in his voice when he'd demanded to know why I'd hit her.

He'd never defended me like that. Not once.

I curled up tighter on the couch, my tears falling silently now. The apartment felt cold and empty, just like it always did. And in its reflection, I saw myself—just as cold, and just as empty.