Chapter 13

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Isabella

Avilina didn't lie to her.
Alexander was with her that night.
He was with her at their wedding night.

Avilina didn't lie to her.
Alexander kissed her that night.
He kissed her at their wedding night.

Alexander was kissing Avilina , no eating her lips as if he couldn't get enough of her as if she was the sole purpose of his life as if he would die if he left her. He pulled her closer so close that no air could even pass. He had his hands all over her naked body.

And the video ceased, Isabella sensed her heart halting in tandem too. With the conclusion of the footage, it seemed as if her world had also come to a crushing end. The screen transitioned into darkness, mirroring the profound blackness that enveloped her perception of reality. The abrupt halt of the video echoed the abrupt cessation of hope, leaving her engulfed in a void where despair loomed like an endless abyss.

It was as though someone had extracted her heart and ruthlessly torn it to pieces with a sharp knife. The relentless agony felt like a repeated stabbing, as if someone were driving the knife deep into her, over and over, until the pain became numb. A searing sensation akin to a scalding metal rod being dragged across her body intensified the anguish, leaving her in a state of excruciating torment.

She couldn't breath.
She couldn't...

Isabella staggered backward, surveying the guests around her who regarded her with an almost alien curiosity. Their empathetic expressions spoke volumes, yet a palpable silence hung in the air, as if they dared not utter a single word. Their hesitance wasn't rooted in shared pain but rather in the fear of Alexander Knight. A collective trepidation restrained them from vocalizing their thoughts on what Alexander had done to her. The unspoken tension in the room held captive voices that longed to express compassion but were stifled by the looming shadow of fear.

They feared to comment on What Alexander did to her.

Unrestrained, agonizing tears streamed down Isabella's face, the pain rendering her voiceless and shattering her heart into fragments and ashes. Attempting to stifle her cries and conceal the depth of her anguish, she yearned to dig into the ground beneath her, suffocating in the desire to be consumed by the overwhelming agony, wishing for an escape from the unbearable pain.

Her eyes went to Sofia who too had tears in her eyes and was watching her with pure sadness. Isabella passed a forced smile to indicate she was okay. But the other woman knew that smile. That smile screamed her pain, her unhappy and her depressed life , her scattered hope, her crumbled world.

Sofia took a step towards Isabella. Isabella held her black expensive gown which she thought would provide confidence but now weighed heavy on her into fists at sides and turned around and ran.

She collided with someone, but she paid no mind. She fled from the taunting  laughter, escaping the cruel and the heartless world that offered nothing but relentless pain. She sprinted away from the world that snatched her parents, from the world that robbed her of a blissful childhood. She fled from the world that shattered her dreams, that stripped away her innocence. Isabella ran from the life she once knew, seeking refuge from the myriad ways in which the world had dealt her heartache.

She ran from the backward to the backdoor right to the stairs and up their room. She stormed into their room and closed her door behind her and slid down with a loud thud on the floor.

She drew her knees to her chest, yanked off her heels, and flung them across the room before embracing her tightly folded legs. With one hand pressed against her mouth, she cried—tears streaming down her face—as she stifled her screams and muffled the sounds of her despair. In the midst of her tears, she pondered how many more times she would endure this pain, how many more betrayals awaited her, and how many more instances would prompt the release of these heartbreaking sobs.

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