Alexander Sullivan's face was dark and stormy.
He stared coldly at Isabella Roscente.
The crowd remained silent, seemingly waiting for his answer or explanation.
He directly grabbed Isabella's hand.
He pulled her quickly toward the exit of the hall.
No one even dared to stop them.
Alexander took her downstairs.
He brought her to their wedding car.
Isabella was like a soulless puppet.
She let him shove her, along with her bulky wedding dress, into the car.
The car sped away.
When they arrived home, Alexander pulled her out of the car.
He dragged her into the house.
He pulled her upstairs to their room.
He began to help her remove her wedding dress.
"Would you like to take a bath?" he asked.
Isabella looked at him as if he were insane.
He stripped the dress off her.
He changed her into a loose nightgown.
He pulled her to sit on the edge of the bed.
He knelt in front of her.
He grabbed her hands.
He looked up at her.
"Stay here quietly," he said softly. "I'll go back to handle things and return soon."
He stood up to leave.
Isabella grabbed his wrist.
He turned back.
Isabella smiled.
"Going to tell people I'm sick again, right?" Her smile was like fragile ice, ready to shatter at a touch.
Alexander replied, "I had nothing to do with Daniel Grant's death. Jacob is already gone. All of this is just your stubborn delusion."
Isabella didn't want to involve Julian Sullivan.
Even if she did, it wouldn't help make Alexander admit to murder or hiding Jacob.
She stared at him.
"You played Jacob's voice for me. I couldn't mistake it. He isn't dead. And the reason you're hiding him absolutely has to do with Daniel."
"I have no evidence to accuse you. I can't fight you."
"But," she turned her head to glance at the expensive wedding dress discarded on the floor, and smiled, "But I'm your wife now. Every day and night from now on, I can torment you just like today. Until you return Jacob to me. Until you tell the whole truth."
"Darling," tears welled in her eyes as she smiled, "Happy wedding."
Alexander stared at her, stunned.
—
Half a month later.
Alexander was in the middle of a corporate board meeting at his company.
His phone rang midway through.
Without hesitation, he answered it.
"What's wrong? Where did she go? Weren't you supposed to follow her? Where did you lose her? I'm coming now!"
He turned and hurriedly instructed Liam Lowell to take over and continue the meeting.
He rushed to leave.
Liam grabbed his arm, whispering to stop him.
"Mr. Sullivan, this is the board of directors. You—"
Alexander said nothing and walked straight out.
—
Isabella woke up in the morning feeling nauseous.
She counted the days.
Her period was already two weeks late.
Her heart sank.
A terrible premonition surfaced.
If she went out, Alexander's men would definitely follow her.
She drove around a couple of blocks.
She shook off the people tailing her.
First, she went to a pharmacy and bought a pregnancy test.
She went into a restroom in a shopping mall to take the test.
It was positive.
She didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
Was the child Alexander's?
It could also be Julian's.
Did she want it?
Absolutely not.
—
She drove home. It was already evening.
As soon as her car entered the main gate, Alexander ran out from the main house.
He ran toward her.
Before she could drive the car into the garage, he stopped her vehicle.
Isabella parked, turned off the engine, and got out.
Alexander grabbed her.
"Isabella, where did you go?"
She broke free from his grip and shrugged.
"Afraid I'd run away? The most important thing to me is still in your hands, isn't it?"
Alexander closed his eyes wearily and rubbed his temples.
"Let's go inside," he said softly.
—
That night, after her shower, Isabella sat on the edge of the bed in a daze.
She held her phone but couldn't find anyone to talk to about her situation.
Ever since she said those things at the wedding, the envious shop assistants who thought she was lucky had all come to advise her.
They said everything was her delusion.
She must have wronged Alexander.
How could she accuse him of being a murderer in public without evidence?
Isabella had driven them all away.
The best person to confide in right now was still Julian.
But she restrained herself.
She wouldn't contact him again.
Even if the child in her womb might be his.
"Isabella," Alexander stood at the bedroom door at some point. "Let's talk."
Isabella blinked and wiped her eyes.
He walked over and sat beside her.
He had just showered too.
He carried the familiar scent of his shower gel.
Isabella couldn't help but wonder.
Why was it that now, even though she was more certain than ever that he was responsible for Daniel's death, she didn't feel nauseous and sick from his proximity like before?
She even felt tired, wronged.
She wanted to curl up in his arms, find a comfortable position, and sleep.
But she couldn't.
She had to hate him.
She had to torment him.
She had to get Jacob back.
She had to uncover the truth...
"Maybe we should go abroad," he said. "I'll leave everything here behind. Start a new life with you overseas. Anyway, the money I've made is more than enough for us to spend in this lifetime."
"What about Jacob? My Jacob? Where is he really?" she asked.
Alexander reached out and touched her face.
"Jacob is dead. Why can't you accept that?"
Isabella was filled with hatred.
She grabbed his hand.
She lowered her head and bit hard into the flesh of his wrist.
Her jaw clenched with such force her whole head shook.
Only when she tasted blood in her mouth and felt the urge to vomit did she release him.
Ignoring his own injury and pain, he moved to support Isabella, who was covering her mouth, dry heaving.
"Isabella..."
From the sadness and the retching, her tears flowed freely.
He held her tightly.
—
The next morning, Alexander didn't go to work.
He brought breakfast to their room for Isabella.
"You don't look well. Have some breakfast first."
Isabella sat up and glanced at him.
"I'll go wash up first."
Alexander, seeing she didn't refuse, felt a flicker of joy.
"Alright, go ahead."
She went to the bathroom in her nightgown.
After a while, she returned and got back into bed.
Alexander moved the small table in front of her.
She lifted her pillow.
Under it was a small transparent bag containing a white pill.
She opened the bag, took out the pill, put it in her mouth, then picked up a glass of water from the table.
She drank, swallowing the pill.
Alexander hadn't had time to stop her.
He frowned.
"What medicine did you just take?"
Isabella put down the glass.
She didn't answer his question.
She picked up a sandwich from the plate in front of her.
She took a bite and nodded.
"It's quite good." She wiped some salad dressing from the corner of her mouth and smiled.
"Jacob wasn't a picky eater. No matter what I made before, he'd always cheerfully say, 'Mommy is a great chef!'" She imitated Jacob's childish voice, her face soft with a gentle smile. "I made sandwiches for him too."
She lifted her gaze to him.
Her eyes scanned his face for a moment.
"You've never been a father. You surely don't know what it feels like to lose a child."
Alexander's eyebrow twitched.
He stared at her blankly, a bad feeling growing in his heart.
She continued to eat the sandwich.
The food was in her mouth, but every word she spoke next vibrated clearly against his eardrums.
"Oh, the pill I just took was an abortion pill."