Chapter 7\u00a0<\/p>\n
87\u00a0<\/p>\n
Roxanne was asleep when I got her back to the hospital.\u00a0<\/p>\n
She looked small on that big bed. Pale. Fragile. Like she might shatter if the lights were too bright. I sat beside her and held her hand, careful, gentle. Her skin was warm. Mine felt cold.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Even asleep, she was crying.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cDavid\u2026\u201d she murmured, barely audible. \u201cDon\u2019t leave me. I\u2019m scared.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
My chest tightened. I leaned closer, lowering my voice. \u201cI\u2019m here. Rest. You\u2019re safe.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
But my mind would not shut up.\u00a0<\/p>\n
The sea kept crashing in my head. Over and over. Isabella\u2019s face right before she jumped.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I eased my hand out of Roxanne\u2019s grip and stepped into the hallway. The moment the door closed, I called my assistant.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cAny news?\u201d I asked.\u00a0<\/p>\n
There was a pause. Too long.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cSir\u2026 we\u2019re still searching. The waves are rough. It was dark. We added more boats, but-\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t stop,\u201d I snapped. \u201cShe didn\u2019t drown.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
I pressed my fingers to my forehead. \u201cIsabella can swim. She\u2019s strong. She\u2019s done this kind of thing before.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
And Ryle.\u00a0<\/p>\n
My jaw clenched.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cShe didn\u2019t jump to die,\u201d I said, more to myself than him. \u201cShe jumped because Ryle was in the water. She was saving him. She always does that.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
The image burned behind my eyes. My father in law was shoving Ryle forward. The splash. Isabella not even hesitating before jumping in after him.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cShe wouldn\u2019t leave the boy,\u201d I said. \u201cShe\u2019s probably keeping him afloat somewhere Looking for a way out.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
I hung up and stood there longer than I meant to. Snow was piling up outside the window. White. Silent. Cold.\u00a0<\/p>\n
The next morning, I made sure Roxanne was watched closely and drove home alone.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Prepare the Divorce and Ruin My Husband\u00a0<\/p>\n
1\/4 25.0%\u00a0<\/p>\n
11:06 Wed, Jan 28\u00a0<\/p>\n
The house felt wrong the second I stepped inside.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Too quiet.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cBelle?\u201d I called.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Nothing.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cRyle?\u201d My voice echoed back at me.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I walked faster. The living room looked normal at first. Furniture untouched. Her coat still hanging where she always left it. Shoes lined up neatly by the door.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Then I stopped.\u00a0<\/p>\n
The wall.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Empty.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Every photo was gone. Wedding photos. Family pictures. The ones with Ryle sitting between us, grinning with his missing teeth. The frames were still there. Clean. Bare.\u00a0<\/p>\n
My chest tightened hard.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I grabbed the servant. \u201cWhere are the photos?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
They hesitated. \u201cA few days ago, sir. After Madam came back\u2026 she ordered all pictures with you and the young master burned. She watched them herself. She said none were to be kept.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
My ears rang.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Burned?\u00a0<\/p>\n
She used to dust those frames every morning even before she got kidnapped. Scold anyone who touched them. She said they were proof we existed.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I walked into the bedroom. The closet was full. Her clothes still there. Dresses. Coats.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Even the white ones she loved.\u00a0<\/p>\n
She took nothing.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Only erased us.\u00a0<\/p>\n
My phone rang.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Roxanne.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Her voice was weak, trembling. \u201cDavid\u2026 where are you? I woke up and you weren\u2019t here. I dreamed about the babies. I\u2019m scared.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
I looked around the empty house again. At the photos that used to prove I had a family.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m on my way,\u201d I said automatically.\u00a0<\/p>\n
But my grip on the phone tightened.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Chapter 7\u00a0<\/p>\n
2\/4 26.0%\u00a0<\/p>\n
11:06 Wed, Jan 28\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u0e1c\u0e25\u0e1e\u0e34\u00a0<\/p>\n
87\u00a0<\/p>\n
Isabella was gone. Ryle was gone. And for the first time, I did not know if they would ever come back.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Still, one thought stayed sharp in my mind.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I would find them.\u00a0<\/p>\n
No matter where they ran.\u00a0<\/p>\n
939\u00a0<\/p>\n
Roxanne crashed into my chest the moment I stepped back into the hospital room.\u00a0<\/p>\n
She was shaking hard, crying like the world had ended. Her fists clutched my coat, knuckles white. I wrapped my arms around her and held her steady, one hand rubbing her back, slow and firm. That was what I did. I kept things from falling apart.\u00a0<\/p>\n
But my head was somewhere else.\u00a0<\/p>\n
She looked up at me, eyes red, lashes wet. \u201cDavid\u2026 you\u2019re distracted. Are you thinking about them?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
I felt her body tense. \u201cYou still haven\u2019t found my sister and Ryle, have you? Are they\u2026 alive?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
My jaw locked. I hated questions I could not answer.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cNo updates yet,\u201d I said. \u201cMy people are still searching.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
Her face folded instantly. Tears spilled faster. \u201cThis is my fault,\u201d she whispered. \u201cIf I wasn\u2019t there, Isabella wouldn\u2019t have jumped. She wouldn\u2019t have done something so\u00a0<\/p>\n
extreme.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
I tightened my hold on her. \u201cStop blaming yourself,\u201d I said low. \u201cWe already lost the twins. That\u2019s enough pain for one body to carry.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
Then I added, slower, firmer, \u201cShe jumped because Ryle was in the water. She was saving our son. That\u2019s all.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
Roxanne nodded against my chest, quiet now. I felt the slightest shift in her breathing, like something passing behind her eyes. I ignored it.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Inside, I was already doing the math.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Isabella was not weak. She was terrifyingly strong. She used to slice through water like it belonged to her. She nearly made the national swim team back then. And Ryle? He trained young. Too young. But he was fast, disciplined.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cThey didn\u2019t drown,\u201d I said more to myself than her. \u201cThey swam away. She doesn\u2019t want to face me yet. That\u2019s why there\u2019s no call.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
Isabella had always been intense about family. About me. About our son. She loved too hard. That kind of woman did not vanish easily.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Chapter 7\u00a0<\/p>\n
3\/4\u00a0<\/p>\n
27.0%\u00a0<\/p>\n
11:06 Wed, Jan 28\u00a0<\/p>\n
I lifted Roxanne\u2019s chin gently. \u201cRest,\u201d I told her. \u201cYou\u2019ve been through hell.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u2026.\u00a0<\/p>\n
874\u00a0<\/p>\n
For the next two days, I stayed by her side. Made sure she ate. Made sure the room stayed warm. Made sure no reporters got close. I handled everything.\u00a0<\/p>\n
But at night, when the lights dimmed and the hallways went quiet, my mind turned on\u00a0<\/p>\n
I kept seeing Isabella\u2019s face on the yacht. Not angry. Not desperate.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Resolved.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I told myself she would come back soon. She always did. She was dramatic sometimes. Emotional. She wanted me to chase her, panic a little.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Fine. It worked.\u00a0<\/p>\n
By the third morning, I was sitting outside the operating wing, elbows on my knees, fingers tapping without rhythm. I did not even notice I was doing it until someone stopped in front of me.\u00a0<\/p>\n
A man in a suit. Calm. Professional. Dangerous in a quiet way.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cMr. Vanderbilt,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019m Mrs Vanderbilt\u2019s lawyer.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
I looked up slowly.\u00a0<\/p>\n
He handed me a folder. \u201cThese are the divorce papers she prepared. Everything is ready. She just needs your signature.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
My eyes dropped to the folder.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Divorce?\u00a0<\/p>\n
11:06 Wed, Jan 28\u00a0<\/p>\n
Prepare the divorce and ruin your husband by Mark Twain 7 Chapter 7\u00a0 87\u00a0 Roxanne was asleep when I got […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"site-sidebar-layout":"default","site-content-layout":"","ast-site-content-layout":"default","site-content-style":"default","site-sidebar-style":"default","ast-global-header-display":"","ast-banner-title-visibility":"","ast-main-header-display":"","ast-hfb-above-header-display":"","ast-hfb-below-header-display":"","ast-hfb-mobile-header-display":"","site-post-title":"","ast-breadcrumbs-content":"","ast-featured-img":"","footer-sml-layout":"","ast-disable-related-posts":"","theme-transparent-header-meta":"","adv-header-id-meta":"","stick-header-meta":"","header-above-stick-meta":"","header-main-stick-meta":"","header-below-stick-meta":"","astra-migrate-meta-layouts":"default","ast-page-background-enabled":"default","ast-page-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"ast-content-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"footnotes":""},"categories":[60],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-23538","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-his-regret-my-victory-novel"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/23538","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=23538"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/23538\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=23538"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=23538"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=23538"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}