Nerissa sat in the quiet of the living room, Alexander nestled safely in her arms, his tiny breaths warm against her skin. The gentle rhythm of his breathing was almost enough to soothe the storm in her heart—until she heard it.
A faint murmur. A voice she knew all too well.
Drake.
Her body tensed, every nerve suddenly alert. She shifted slightly, careful not to wake Alexander, and tilted her head toward the sound. At first, it was muffled, but then his words grew clearer—sharp enough to slice through her fragile peace.
"Isabelle…" His tone was low, conspiratorial. "It's almost ready. I'll get her to sign the Divorce agreement. Once it's there,make sure that George will signed it too."
Nerissa's heart thudded painfully against her ribs. She pressed Alexander closer to her chest, as though shielding him from the poison spilling from Drake's mouth.
"We'll make sure they never find their way back to each other," Drake continued, a sly satisfaction lacing his words. "Trust me, Isabelle. She'll have no choice but to stay with me and George with you."
The room felt smaller, suffocating. A cold dread seeped into her bones. All along, the kindness, the concern, the way Drake had "helped" her—it was all a lie. Every smile he gave her hid a snare. Every word, every gesture, was part of a carefully laid trap.
She had been nothing but a pawn.
Her arms trembled, but she refused to loosen her hold on Alexander. Her mind raced, torn between rage and disbelief. The man she thought was her protector had been the architect of her ruin all along.
And worse—he wasn't working alone. Isabelle was with him.
The truth was no longer just a wound—it was a weapon. And Nerissa knew she had to choose: confront Drake now, or quietly gather her strength until she could shatter his web of lies for good.
From the hallway, she heard the faint shuffle of his footsteps approaching. Her pulse spiked. She wanted to leap to her feet, to shout the truth in his face, but the weight of Alexander in her arms reminded her—she couldn't afford to make a reckless move.
Drake stepped into the room, his face the picture of casual concern. "You're still awake?" he asked, his voice smooth, too smooth. "You should be resting. Let me take the baby."
The nerve of him.
She forced a brittle smile. "No, he's fine with me." Her voice sounded calm, even to her own ears, though her insides were in turmoil.
He came closer, leaning on the arm of the couch as if they were sharing some quiet, domestic moment. But Nerissa saw it now—the predator hiding beneath the mask. Every glance, every movement was calculated.
"How was your call?" she asked softly, her tone carefully casual.
Something flickered in his eyes, so quick she almost missed it. "Just business," he said, shrugging. "Nothing important."
Liar.
She wanted to scream the word at him, to tell him she had heard every poisonous syllable. But instead, she rose slowly, keeping Alexander cradled protectively against her chest. "I'm going to put him to bed," she murmured.
Drake's hand shot out, gripping her arm—not hard, but firm enough to send a jolt of fear through her. "You know," he said, his voice lower now, "sometimes i wonder how it feels to just..marry you for real and be Alexander's Dad.I hope you trust me enough to listen to me sometimes.."
Her breath caught, but she lifted her chin. "Trust is earned," she whispered. "And some people… lose it forever."
They stared at each other, the air between them heavy and dangerous. Then she pulled away, retreating toward the bedroom before he could answer. She needed time—time to think, to plan, to protect her son from the man who had just shown his true face.
Nerissa couldn't sleep that night. The shadows in the room seemed heavier, pressing down on her as Alexander's soft breathing filled the silence. She stared at the ceiling, her mind replaying every moment she had trusted Drake—every time she had believed his smile, every time she had leaned on his promise of safety.
After all the trust she had given him… he had betrayed her.
The thought tightened her chest until she felt she couldn't breathe. She sat up slowly, careful not to wake Alexander, and reached for her phone with trembling hands. Her thumb hovered over one name—George.
For a moment, she hesitated. What if he didn't want to hear from her? What if too much had already been broken between them? But the ache in her heart urged her forward. She needed him to know. She needed him to hear her voice.
She pressed call.
The line rang once. Twice. Three times—
"Hello?" His voice came almost too quickly, as if he had been holding his phone in his hand, waiting for her to call.
Her lips trembled. "George…" she whispered, her voice breaking.
A pause. A sharp inhale on his end. "Nerissa?"
On the other end, George's voice wavered. "Nerissa…" It was hoarse, almost broken, as if every word cost him. She could hear the tremor in his breathing, the edge of tears he was fighting to keep back. "Please… please tell me where you are."
The moment Nerissa heard the voice of her husband, the sound broke something deep inside her. It had been so long since she'd heard him speak her name, so long since she'd felt that tether of safety his voice carried.
Her lips trembled, and before she could stop herself, a sob escaped. She pressed a hand to her mouth, desperate to muffle the sound, but the tears came faster, her shoulders shaking. "George…" she breathed, his name slipping out like a prayer.
On the other end of the line, his voice faltered, trembling as if he too were fighting to keep from breaking. "Nerissa… is that really you?"
She closed her eyes, letting the warmth of his voice wash over her even as her heart ached. All the fear, the loneliness, the silent suffering she had carried for so long came crashing to the surface. In that moment, she wasn't the woman trapped by Drake's schemes—she was George's wife, lost but not forgotten.
"Nerissa? " Drake's voice echoed through the room.
She suddenly ended the call and wipe her tears away.
"Are you alright? " He holds her both hands and smiled warmly at her. " Let's talk."