Chapter 13

Victoria Whitmore's voice cut through the night air.

Isabella Sinclair turned sharply, spotting both Victoria and Alexander standing near the garden fountain.

Her footsteps faltered.

Alexander exhaled cigarette smoke into the darkness.

The distance between them stretched too far, with Alexander silhouetted against the moonlight, making his expression unreadable.

Victoria sighed dramatically. "Honestly, I get it. Victoria Kensington? Twenty-five with a PhD from Oxford? Running her family's empire? She's practically perfect."

She twirled her wine glass. "Gorgeous, brilliant, untamed - exactly your type. But that family history... Alexander, are you sure about this?"

Alexander's voice turned icy. "I know exactly what I want."

Victoria's nose wrinkled. She'd never liked Isabella, but Victoria Kensington didn't impress her either.

"But-" she started, then froze under Alexander's warning glare.

"Fine!" She threw up her hands. "God forbid I voice an opinion. I'll shut up now."

Isabella clenched her fists, the night wind biting her cheeks. A bitter laugh escaped her lips before she turned away silently.

As she retreated, Victoria's voice carried again. "Oh, did you hear? Isabella submitted her resignation from InnovaTech?"

Alexander's reply came cold and detached. "Daniel mentioned she messed up a client deal. I told him to terminate her per company policy."

Victoria's mocking laughter followed. "That explains it! She made it sound like quitting when she told me. Typical - getting fired but pretending it was her choice."

Alexander remained silent, as if discussing a stranger.

Upstairs, Isabella nearly collided with Henry Whitmore on the landing. Both startled, then Henry immediately apologized. "Are you alright?"

Aside from Eleanor, Henry was the only Whitmore who treated her with kindness.

Isabella forced a smile. "I'm fine."

When she'd married Alexander, Henry had been just a boy. He'd always found Isabella beautiful and kind, never understanding why his brother treated her so coldly. Even now, grown and aware of their strained marriage, he admired her.

Noticing her distress, he blurted, "Isabella, you're amazing. Alexander's an idiot if he can't see that."

Isabella hesitated. No point explaining their impending divorce. "Thank you, Henry."

"I'm grabbing a nightcap. You should rest."

"Goodnight," she murmured.

Back in her room, Isabella switched off the main lights, leaving only the bedside lamp glowing. She'd just settled when Alexander entered.

Their eyes met.

She studied him.

Once, she'd have jumped up to take his coat, prepare his pajamas, run his bath. Now she simply closed her eyes.

The absence of her usual attentions gave Alexander pause. He dismissed it as another of her moods.

Without preamble, he stated, "Sophia's school paperwork is done. Take her tomorrow."

"Understood."

That was all. He turned toward the closet.

This was their marriage.

Watching him, Isabella considered mentioning the divorce. But Alexander would handle it in his own time. He wanted this more than she did.

His phone rang.

Isabella recognized the change in his voice immediately - softer, warmer. Victoria Kensington, no doubt.

"I'll come now," he said abruptly, then left without another word.

Moments later, tires crunched on gravel as Alexander drove away.

Isabella turned off the light and slept.

At six the next morning, she rose to prepare Sophia for school. Alexander hadn't returned. She checked the time, unsurprised.

Sophia's door was locked. Isabella knocked.

Eventually, the door swung open to reveal a scowling Sophia. "Mom! You're giving me a headache!"

After last night's call with Victoria, Sophia had slept poorly, plagued by guilt over disappointing her.

Isabella remained calm. "We'll be late."

Sophia flopped back onto her bed with a dramatic sigh. "Fine."

Then, peeking through her lashes: "Can you put toothpaste on my brush?"

Isabella obliged.

While Isabella was in the bathroom, Sophia texted Victoria: "Good morning, Aunt Vicky!" before shuffling to brush her teeth.

Isabella handed her a warm towel afterward. "Which uniform?"

Sophia gave the closet a cursory glance. "I'll dress myself."

Once alone, Sophia dug out the camouflage shirt Victoria had gifted her - her secret rebellion.

She couldn't wait to show her loyalty!