Isabel hummed softly to herself as she stepped into the grand foyer of her home, her arms filled with shopping bags and gift-wrapped boxes. She had spent the day carefully selecting presents for Paul’s birthday, hoping to surprise him with something special. But as she set her bags down and took off her coat, something felt off.
A soft, lilting laugh echoed from upstairs.
Isabel frowned. She knew that laugh. It wasn’t hers.
Her heart pounded as she moved toward the staircase, her eyes landing on a trail of discarded clothing—high heels, a silk blouse, a lacy bra—leading up to the master bedroom. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut.
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to climb the stairs, her breath shallow. With trembling hands, she pushed the door open a crack, peering inside.
Paul was lounging in their bed, his arm draped over a woman with golden curls. Jane. His assistant. The sheets barely covered them.
“Would you like to do it again?” Paul asked, his voice smooth and teasing.
The room spun around Isabel. Her stomach twisted. She let out a small gasp before the shopping bags slipped from her hands, crashing onto the hardwood floor.
Paul turned his head lazily and, upon spotting her, smirked.
“Oh, hey! Jane, this is my wife, Isabel.”
Jane propped herself up on her elbow, completely unfazed. “Hi,” she said, offering Isabel a bored smile.
Isabel’s entire body trembled with fury. “Are you serious?” she choked out. “How could you—”
Paul waved a dismissive hand. “Relax. Why are you back so early?”
Isabel clenched her fists. “That’s my robe she’s wearing, Paul! And she’s in our bed!”
Paul glanced at Jane, as if just noticing the silky fabric draped over her. “You said you’d be back by seven. It’s not even five-thirty.”
Jane sighed dramatically and fluffed the pillows. “Yes, honey, you have ten seconds to disappear.”
A cold rage unlike anything Isabel had ever felt before surged through her.
She stormed out of the room, heading downstairs, her mind spinning. She had to get out of here. She had to leave Paul for good.
Isabel stuffed clothes into a suitcase in the guest room, her hands shaking. She was done. She wouldn’t live in humiliation.
She had just zipped up her bag when Paul’s voice sliced through the air. “Why are you packing?”
She whirled around to find him standing in the doorway, arms crossed, his expression dark.
“I’m leaving you, Paul. And the kids are coming with me.”
Paul chuckled, a slow, sinister sound. “Leaving me?” he echoed. “And where exactly do you think you’re going?”
Isabel’s throat tightened. He was right. Her mother was gone, she had no friends in this city, and she had followed Paul here, leaving everything behind.
Paul took a step closer. “And what about Julia and John? What happens to them when I block all your credit cards?”
Isabel’s breath caught in her chest. “You have your mistress, Paul. What do you want from me?” she cried.
Paul smiled coldly. “They’re my children too. And don’t forget, honey, without me, you’re nothing.”
Isabel’s nails dug into her palms. She had sacrificed everything for this man—her career, her dreams, her independence.
“I’m leaving, Paul. And that’s final.”
Paul tilted his head. “Fine. But if you walk out that door, you will never see our children again.”
A chill swept through her. He meant it. He would use every bit of his power to make sure she lost them.
So she stayed. But she wasn’t going to let Julia and John grow up in this twisted house. The next day, she sent them away to summer camp, somewhere far from Paul’s influence.
When Paul returned home with Jane, he was as smug as ever. “Set the table for three, sweetheart.”
Isabel ignored him, but her mind was already racing. She had to fight back.
She called a divorce lawyer, Charles, desperate for help.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Yeats. Your husband is too powerful and dangerous. I can’t take the case.”
“Please,” Isabel begged. “I need to protect my children.”
Charles hesitated. “Find something against him. Then call me back.”
That was easier said than done.
As Jane moved in, Isabel formulated a plan. She knew Jane wasn’t in this for love. One morning, she handed her a cup of coffee and said casually, “I know why you’re here. You want his money, right?”
Jane smirked but didn’t deny it.
“I don’t need his money,” Isabel said, lowering her voice. “Help me, and I’ll make you rich. When I get my divorce, we split everything. 50/50.”
Jane tapped her nails against the coffee mug. “Make it 70/30.”
Isabel hesitated, then nodded. “Deal.”
But Jane betrayed her. She told Paul everything.
One evening, as Isabel and Jane whispered in the kitchen, a voice rumbled behind them.
“Get WHAT?”
Isabel froze. Paul was standing in the doorway.
Jane gave Isabel a smug glance. “Paul’s connections can get me so much more.”
Paul leaned in close. “I won’t hit you, Isabel. But I will make your life unbearable.”
Tears blurred Isabel’s vision. “Paul, please. I’ll be obedient, I swear. Just don’t take my kids from me.” She dropped to her knees, her body trembling.
Paul sneered. “Thank you for the suggestion. You’re not allowed outside until I decide what to do with you.”
That night, Isabel plotted her escape. When Paul and Jane left on a business trip, she dressed as a maid and snuck into his office. She searched through his files, her fingers shaking as she snapped photos of illegal business dealings.
Then her phone rang.
Paul.
Her blood ran cold. She looked up at the security camera in the corner. He knew she was here.
The door burst open. Paul stormed in with security. “Take her! She’s crazy!”
As they grabbed her, Isabel fought back. “Paul, stop this!”
Just then, the entrance doors flew open. Police officers rushed in. “Mr. Yeats, you’re under arrest.”
Paul’s face twisted in shock as handcuffs snapped around his wrists.
Isabel turned, spotting Charles standing near the police cars.
“I guess he’s a good man after all,” she murmured.
Jane, standing off to the side, muttered, “I should have taken your deal.”
Isabel smiled. “I wouldn’t have given you a cent.”
As she stepped outside, she felt something she hadn’t felt in years.
Freedom.
Her children were safe. Paul was gone. And for the first time, her life was her own.
