Prepare the divorce and ruin your husband by Mark Twain 19
Chapter 19
Inside, the music and chatter felt too loud, too heavy. My chest ached. I found Ax leaning against the wall with his usual lazy grin.
“I’ve got a bad headache,” I whispered.
His smile faded, just a little. “Come on then. I’ll drive you back.”
And without another glance at the glittering hall, the stares, or the man whispering my name like a wound reopening, I let Ax lead me out.
…
ROXANNE’S POV
My smile kept slipping and I had to keep fixing it with more champagne. My hands were shaking so bad I wrapped them tight around the glass like it might run away. Everyone kept saying I looked radiant, glowing, lucky. Inside my head it was chaos, screaming, sirens blaring.
That’s her.
That is Isabella.
I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood and still I smiled, still I nodded, still I played the perfect wife. Pretend. That’s what I’m good at. I’ve always been good at pretending.
The ride home was pure torture.
David sat beside me, stiff, staring out the window like I wasn’t even there. Like I was air. I tried to fill the silence because if I didn’t, I felt like I would explode.
“So… tonight went well, right?” I said, forcing a laugh. “Your speech was great. Everyone loved it. You heard them clapping, didn’t you? You were amazing.”
Nothing.
Not a word. Not even a glance.
My chest tightened and the fear snapped into anger. “I thought you had amnesia,” I said, louder now. “So why are you saying another woman’s name? Why are you looking at her like that? I’m your wife, David! Me. I’m Mrs. Vanderbilt. Not her.”
He finally turned his head, slow and heavy,
“I just need to be alone,” he said quietly. “I can’t think right now.”
And then he got out of the car.
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Just opened the door and left me there like I was nothing. Like a driver. Like furniture.
He didn’t even look back.
I sat there gripping my phone so hard my nails dug into my palm. Losing him wasn’t an option. No. Never. She already took too much from me once. She will not take him
now.
Back in my room, I locked the door and leaned against it, breathing hard. My hands were still shaking when I dialed the number I promised myself I would never touch
again.
The line clicked.
“Yeah?” a man answered.
My voice dropped, sweet and calm, like I was asking for a favor, not a war. “I need you to find someone for me. Her name is Nadia Joseph. I want everything. Where she came from, who she’s sleeping with, who she talks to, what she eats for breakfast. I don’t care how dirty you get. Dig until there’s nothing left to dig.”
I hung up and stared at myself in the mirror. My lips were still smiling. I always smile. Even when I’m bleeding inside.
Sleep wouldn’t come. I tossed and turned until my head finally slipped into the worst dream imaginable.
She was there. Isabella. Alive. Glowing. Standing next to David like she belonged at his side. He looked at her like the world had narrowed down to just her face. Then he dropped to his knees and said, “I’m sorry I never saw your worth. I was blind.”
I ran to him, grabbed him, held on tight like a wife should. Like I deserved to. But his face went cold. He shoved me away and pulled out a gun.
Bang.
hit the floor and his voice kept echoing in my head. “It’s all because of you. I didn’t see the true value of my wife.”
I jolted awake, throat tight, body soaked in sweat. I reached for David’s side of the bed.
Cold. Empty.
“What?” I whispered. “Where did you go?”
I grabbed my phone. Four in the morning. I called him once. Twice. Again and again until my hands were shaking so bad I almost dropped it. No answer.
Then I opened Instagram.
And there she was.
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Nadia Joseph. Isabella. Whatever name she’s hiding behind now.
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Photos everywhere. Smiling. Shining. Acting like she owned the damn world. And worse, she had two insanely hot men standing beside her like guards, like trophies. My stomach twisted and my face burned so hot I wanted to throw the phone across the
room.
“I will ruin you again,” I hissed. “Just like before.”
flipped the camera, adjusted the angle, messed up my hair, let my eyes go glossy, my lips tremble just right. Perfect. Weak. Innocent. Victim chic. I snapped the selfie and typed fast.
“I didn’t sleep at all… I just found out my bully is still alive and walking free. It doesn’t feel fair. I’m scared for my life.”
Post.
My phone exploded instantly.
“Stay strong, Mrs. Vanderbilt!”
“We’ve got your back always.”
“How dare she show her face again.”
“Wait, that bitch is alive? I thought she died already.”
I scrolled, heart pounding, fingers shaking, and my lips slowly curled into a smile. Every comment was fuel. Every bit of outrage fed me.
“This is how I win,” I whispered into the dark. “She won’t take him from me.”
But the truth kept slamming into my chest no matter how hard I smiled. David was still
gone.
David didn’t come home. And somewhere out there, he might be remembering her…
and that will end me for real.
…
That afternoon Troy showed up, uninvited as always, like he still had the right. My ex. My favorite mistake. He dropped a thick folder on the table like a bomb.
I stayed calm. I poured myself a glass of wine, crossed my legs, acted like I owned the world. Then I opened it.
And everything shattered.
Isabella. Alive.
My fingers started shaking so bad I almost spilled the wine. My stomach twisted and my head went light, like the room tilted just for me.
“What the hell is this,” I whispered, flipping page after page. Photos. Surveillance
Chapter 19
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shots. Reports. Her face staring back at me like a ghost that refused to stay buried.
Troy leaned back, arms crossed, that ugly knowing smile on his face. “Told you I’d find the truth. She didn’t die, Roxanne. You didn’t finish the job.”
“No!” I snapped, slamming the folder down. “She was supposed to be gone! How- how could she-? She was never meant to survive!”
He laughed under his breath. “Funny thing is, she didn’t survive on her own. Caius Felipe pulled her and the kid out of the water. Both of them. Ryle too. Alive.”
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