~ISABELLE~
I stood in the kitchen doorway, feeling the cold rain soak the hem of my silk blouse. I stared into the darkness where the SUV’s taillights had just vanished.
My hands were shaking, not from the cold, and definitely not from fear. They were trembling with a fury that was so old and deep, it felt like marrow in my bones.
"Mother..." Julian moaned from the floor behind . "My wrist... I think he shattered it."
I turned around, slamming the back door shut with enough force to rattle the glass panes. "Get up," I hissed.
Julian was cradling his arm, looking pale and sweaty. He seed so weak and pathetic.
"He broke my bones, Mother!" he whined, stumbling to his feet. "And they took the journal. They took the pills. If they analyse those pills..."
"I know what happens if they analyse the pills, you idiot!" I scread, grabbing a crystal vase from the counter and hurling it against the wall.
It shattered into a thousand pieces, glittering like diamonds on the floor... like the shattered remains of my patience.
I paced the kitchen, my heels clicking frantically on the tiles.
"How could he?" I whispered in a trembling voice. "After everything I did."
"Axel?" Julian asked stupidly.
"My father!" I shouted, spinning on him. "Your grandfather!"
I walked to the window, staring at my reflection. But I didn’t see myself. I saw her, Victoria.
"He never looked at like that," I murmured to the glass. "When we were children, Victoria was the sun. She was wild, rebellious, reckless... and he adored her. I was the good one. I was the one who followed the rules. I was the perfect daughter. But I was invisible. I was the shadow."
I gripped the edge of the granite counter until my knuckles turned white.
"Then she left," I spat the words out. "She ran off with that American nobody. She abandoned him. She abandoned the family na. She broke his heart. And I stayed. For twenty-five years, I stayed. I ran his house, hosted his parties, managed his staff, and nursed him when he had his first heart attack. I sacrificed everything! I was the dutiful daughter!"
I glanced at Julian, my eyes filled with tears I was trying not to cry out of anger.
"And how does he repay ? By bringing her daughter into this house. A girl who looks just like Victoria. A girl who walked in here and stole his heart in a few days, just like her mother did. As if I never existed. As if twenty-five years of loyalty meant nothing."
"He was going to give her everything," Julian said quietly, nursing his wrist. "The title, the money, the house... everything we worked for."
"He was going to erase ," I corrected him. "He was going to skip right over , as if I didn’t exist. As if my decades of sacrifice ant nothing compared to Victoria’s ghost. Compared to so stranger who didn’t even know he existed until last week."
I walked over to the drawer where the knives were kept. I didn’t open it. I just ran my hand over the handle, feeling the cool tal beneath my fingers.
"We have to call the lawyers," Julian said nervously, backing away slightly. "Claim the journal is a forgery, or that he was senile when he made the announcent."
"It won’t be enough," I said softly. "Not if he wakes up. If he wakes up, he signs the papers. If he wakes up, he talks to the police about the pills. If he wakes up... I lose everything."
I looked at Julian, and I could see the fear in his eyes. Good. Let him be afraid.
"He can’t wake up," I said.
Julian’s eyes widened. "Mother... you can’t mean..."
"Why shouldn’t I?" I asked in a terrifyingly calm voice. "He killed first, Julian. The mont he stood on that stage and declared her the heir, he killed . He took my future. He took everything I worked for. I’m just... returning the favour."
I looked at the car keys on the counter.
"I’m going to the hospital," I said. "Dr. Aris is on shift tonight. He owes for covering his gambling debts last year. Fifteen thousand pounds in the hole at the casino, rember? I just need five minutes in the room alone. Just five minutes to pinch the IV line. Or adjust the oxygen levels. Maybe unplug sothing critical for just long enough."
"Mother, that’s murder," Julian whispered.
"It’s survival," I snapped. "It’s taking back what should have always been mine. It’s justice."
"What about Layla? What about that book? They have evidence now."
"The book proves nothing without him to verify it," I said. "His handwriting can be questioned. His ntal state can be challenged. And without him alive to sign the papers, the old will stands. I inherit. We inherit. Everything goes back to how it should be."
I reached for the keys, my fingers closing around the cold tal.
"Go to the hospital," I said to Julian. "Have them check your wrist. Make sure you have an alibi. Let the nurses see you. Cry a little. Be the sad grandson. I’ll take care of everything else."
Julian hesitated. "And if you get caught?"
"I won’t," I said coldly. "I’ve spent my entire life being invisible in this house, being overlooked and forgotten. Tonight, that invisibility finally works in my favour."
I grabbed my coat from the hook near the door, slipping it on. I checked my reflection in the window one more ti. I looked composed, dignified, grief-stricken, even.
Perfect.
I opened the door, ready to walk out into the rain, ready to finish what I had started with those pills.
Ring.
The landline on the kitchen wall shrilled, and we both froze.
Ring.
Julian stared at it. "Who is calling at 3:13 AM?"
I stared at the phone and felt a cold chill run down my spine. Sothing felt wrong.
I slowly walked back to the phone and picked up the receiver. "Huntington Residence," I said, trying to stay composed.
"Lady Isabelle?" It was Dr. Aris.
My chest tightened. "Yes, Dr Aris. I was just coming to see him."
"I... I am afraid there is no need," the doctor said quietly. "I have bad news."
I gripped the phone tighter, my heart hammering against my ribs. My other hand clutched the edge of the counter. "Tell me."
"The Duke went into cardiac arrest approximately ten minutes ago," the doctor said. "The strain on his system combined with the massive stroke and the damage to his heart was too much. We did everything we could. We tried to resuscitate for seven minutes, but his heart just stopped responding."
He paused, and I could hear him take a breath.
"He’s gone, Lady Isabelle. Your father has passed away. I am so very sorry for your loss."
The phone slipped slightly in my hand. I stared at the wall, at the expensive wallpaper, at the perfect kitchen that I had maintained for decades.
"When?" I whispered.
"Ti of death was called at 3:08 AM," Dr. Aris said.
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