Chapter 13
Harrison heard a strange ringing in her ears. Did Nathaniel just imply setting her up with other men?
His decision was final.
Without a second thought, he had chosen Isabella.
It felt like a jagged knife plunging into Harrison's chest, twisting mercilessly until she was nothing but shreds. Her hands shook violently as she fought to speak.
"Nathaniel, I'm still...your wife..."
Now impeccably dressed in his signature black ensemble, Nathaniel had transformed back into his usual detached self, as if the earlier turmoil never occurred. His voice was glacial as he extended something toward her.
"Take this."
Harrison looked down. A check with eight zeros stared back.
His cold baritone voice echoed above her. "Harrison, this concludes our marriage. It's over."
Nathaniel placed the check on the marble countertop and strode out, leaving Harrison paralyzed.
He was going to Isabella.
Just like her mother had done years before.
Harrison's vision blurred as hot tears spilled over. Once again, she'd been discarded. No matter how desperately she clung - whether to her mother or Nathaniel - their love always went to Isabella.
No effort was ever enough.
Voices soon approached from outside.
One of Nathaniel's men had arrived, speaking with Beatrice. "Mr. Falcon sent me. I'm here for Mrs. Falcon. Where is she?"
"In the master suite. This way," Beatrice answered.
Their footsteps grew louder.
Panic seized Harrison's throat. She couldn't believe Nathaniel's efficiency - he'd already dispatched someone.
The irony burned.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The footsteps stopped right outside the door.
Harrison moved like lightning. She flung open the window. Though it was the second floor, she didn't hesitate. After climbing out, she jumped.
She landed hard on the manicured lawn below, white-hot pain shooting through her ankle. Biting back a scream, she ignored her disheveled appearance and fumbled for her phone, dialing Gabrielle.
The line connected. "Harrison? It's past midnight. Where are you? Out partying?"
Hearing Gabrielle's voice shattered Harrison's fragile composure. The dam broke as scalding tears streamed down her cheeks.
Meanwhile at The Velvet Lounge, Isabella sat at the bar, her flawless complexion flushed from the drugs, enhancing her allure.
The muscular man beside her couldn't resist sliding an arm around her shoulders. "Time's almost up, beautiful. Looks like your man stood you up. Guess you're mine tonight."
Isabella ignored him, watching her phone's countdown.
"Relax," she purred. "Five seconds remain. He'll come. Five...four...three...two...one..."
At "one," the weight on her shoulder disappeared.
Nathaniel had the man's wrist in a vice grip. With one brutal twist, bone snapped.
"Ahhh!" the man screamed, clutching his broken wrist.
Isabella turned to see Nathaniel.
He'd arrived.
Nathaniel's broad frame radiated cold fury, his presence dominating the space. Without sparing a glance at the whimpering man, he shoved him aside with enough force to send bottles crashing.
Another pained cry echoed.
Isabella stood, wrapping herself around Nathaniel's arm with a triumphant smile.
"Told you," she cooed. "My man always comes for me."