Chapter 163 I Couldn't Move

Chapter 163 I Couldn't Move
Isabella's POV

I stared at the massive screen in horror, watching myself in a state I never wanted anyone to see. The video played on loop – me with those two men from years ago, during the darkest period of my life when I thought Marcus was gone forever.

My body exposed, vulnerable, captured in moments I'd buried deep in my memory.

Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably as the engagement party erupted around me. The elegant celebration I'd so carefully orchestrated had transformed into a circus of judgment and cruelty. This was supposed to be our night – the night Marcus finally claimed me as his Luna in front of everyone who mattered.

"What a slut!" someone shouted from the crowd.

"God, you're really burning hot up there," a man's voice called out, his tone dripping with crude desire.

I tried to cover my face, but my hands were shaking too violently.

The white engagement dress that had made me feel like a queen now felt like a mockery, the pristine fabric a stark contrast to the filth being projected above us.

"Hey, you look so horny – how about we hook up? I can satisfy you," another man yelled, pushing closer through the crowd.

The voices blended into a cacophony of humiliation. I caught glimpses of faces in the crowd – some disgusted, others leering, all of them judging me.

The very people who had smiled and congratulated me on my engagement moments earlier now looked at me like I was nothing more than entertainment.

This can't be happening.

Then I felt it – a hand grabbing at my arm.

"Come on, if the Alpha doesn't want you, how about us? You looked pretty desperate in that video anyway," the man sneered, his grip tightening.

The touch, the words, the leering faces – it all crashed over me like a wave of ice-cold memory. Suddenly I wasn't in this ballroom anymore. I was back in that alley five years ago, finding Annie.

Annie. My sweet, gentle friend who'd been cast out from her pack for loving the wrong person. I'd found her broken, bleeding, surrounded by rogues who'd used her desperation against her. The way they'd touched her, the things they'd said...

"No!" I screamed, my voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. "Who dares touch me? I'll kill anyone who tries!"

The man's hand dropped from my arm as my fury surged, my scent turning sharp and dangerous. Something ancient in my bloodline still carried power, and right now it was boiling with rage.

The engagement party erupted into complete chaos. People began pushing and shoving, some trying to get closer to the spectacle, others fleeing toward the exits. Servers dropped their trays, the sound of shattering glass mixing with screams and shouts.

Through the mayhem, my eyes desperately searched for him.

Marcus stood near the entrance, his face a mask of cold fury. Those blue eyes that had once held warmth when they looked at me now burned with nothing but disgust and indifference. When our gazes met across the chaos, I saw something die in his expression – whatever small part of him that might have still cared for me.

"Marcus!" I called out, stumbling toward him through the crowd. "Marcus, wait!"

But he looked right through me as if I were nothing. He turned away without a word, his jaw set in determination as he pushed through the crowd toward the exit. I could see it in his stride – he was going to find her. He was going to Aria.

His security team moved to block my path as I tried to follow.

"Let me through!" I sobbed, pushing against the wall of black suits. "I'm his Luna! What are you doing? We just got engaged!"

But they didn't budge. No one was listening. No one cared.

The title I'd fought so hard for, the engagement ring that was supposed to mean everything – none of it mattered. I was nothing to him. I'd always been nothing.

Five years. Five years of devotion, and this is what it gets me.

In my fury and desperation, I grabbed the nearest champagne flute and hurled it at the wall. The crystal exploded into a thousand pieces, and the sound seemed to trigger something primal in me.

"No!" I screamed again, sweeping my arm across the dessert table. Cakes and pastries went flying, coating the floor in frosting and fruit. "This isn't how it was supposed to go!"

Guests shrieked and scattered as I continued my rampage, the elegant engagement reception dissolving into complete pandemonium. But I couldn't stop. Years of suppressed rage and humiliation poured out of me like a dam bursting.

I turned toward the massive screen still displaying my shame and charged at it, kicking with all the force I could muster. My heeled foot connected with the display, sending spider web cracks across the surface.

"Turn it off!" I screamed, kicking again and again until my feet were bleeding through my shoes. "Turn it off!"

The screen finally went dark, but the damage was done. Everyone had seen. Everyone knew. My engagement party had become my public execution.

The ballroom was emptying rapidly now, people fleeing like I was some kind of dangerous animal. Maybe I was. Maybe this was what I'd always been – a creature driven by desperate love and jealousy until there was nothing left but destruction.

I wrapped my arms around myself, the fight draining out of me as quickly as it had come. The silence that followed the chaos was deafening. Broken glass and ruined food surrounded me like the debris of my shattered dreams.

What was I thinking? That a ring would change everything? That Marcus would suddenly love me the way he loves her?

I don't know how long I lay there on the cold marble floor, surrounded by the wreckage of what was supposed to be my perfect evening.

My white engagement dress was stained with champagne and frosting, my carefully styled hair had come undone, and mascara streaked my cheeks in dark rivers.

The ballroom was empty now except for a few hotel staff members who watched me warily from the doorway, probably debating whether to call security or a medic.

But I couldn't move. Couldn't think beyond the crushing weight of what had just happened.

He's gone to find her. And I'm left here with nothing.

The engagement ring on my finger felt like a mockery now, a beautiful lie that had lasted all of twenty minutes before crumbling to dust. I twisted it around my finger, the diamond catching the light from the shattered chandelier above.

All those years of waiting, of believing that someday he would see me the way I saw him. All those nights I'd dreamed of this moment, of becoming his Luna, of finally having what I'd always wanted.

And now it was over. Not just the engagement, but everything. The way he'd looked at me tonight – like I was something disgusting he'd scraped off his shoe – told me everything I needed to know.

There would be no coming back from this. No forgiveness. No second chances.

I was alone, just like I'd always been, surrounded by the ruins of my own desperate ambition.

I should have known better. I should have known that love like mine – obsessive, desperate, clinging – could never compete with whatever they have.

The hotel staff finally approached, their footsteps cautious on the glass-strewn floor.

"Miss White?" one of them called softly. "Are you hurt? Do you need medical attention?"

I looked up at them through my tangled hair, probably looking like some kind of broken doll. Medical attention. As if they could fix what was really broken.

"No," I whispered, my voice hoarse from screaming. "I'm fine."

But I wasn't fine. I would never be fine again.

As they helped me to my feet, I caught a glimpse of myself in one of the mirrored walls. The woman staring back at me was a stranger – mascara-streaked, dress torn, eyes wild with grief and rage.

This was what five years of love had gotten me. This was my reward for devotion.

Nothing.