The train screeched to a halt, jerking Isabella out of her thoughts. For a moment, she couldn't move. Her fingers clutched the worn leather strap of her bag as her gaze lingered on the station's glass doors. Beyond them lay the city she had sworn never to return to.
Five years. That was how long she'd stayed away. Five years of living under the radar, building a life from scraps, shielding her heart and—most importantly—her secret.
She drew a sharp breath, forcing her trembling legs to move. The air outside was different, heavier, like the weight of the past pressing down on her chest. Skyscrapers pierced the grey sky in the distance, and the smell of rain clung to the wind. The city hadn't changed. It was still loud, fast, ruthless—just like the man who ruled it.
Alexander Knight.
The name pulsed in her mind like a forbidden melody, one she had muted for half a decade. She shouldn't think of him. She shouldn't even let his shadow linger in her memory. But how could she forget the man who broke her on the night she became his wife?
Isabella shook her head as if the motion could chase away the ghosts. Her heels clicked softly against the pavement as she guided the little boy beside her through the crowd. His small hand fit perfectly in hers, warm and trusting.
"Mommy," his tiny voice snapped her out of her trance. "Is this where we're going to live?"
She looked down at him, at the pair of wide hazel eyes staring up at her—eyes that mirrored the very man she was running from. Her chest squeezed. She crouched, brushing a soft lock of dark hair from his forehead.
"Yes, sweetheart," she whispered, forcing a smile. "Just for a while. You'll like it here, okay?"
He grinned, revealing the same dimple that used to make her heart skip. For a moment, guilt clawed at her. Was it selfish to bring him back here, so close to the danger she'd escaped? But what choice did she have?
Her mother's health was failing, and the hospital in their small town had admitted defeat. The best doctors were here—in the city Isabella had fled like a thief in the night.
"Mommy, can we get ice cream later?" he asked, tugging her hand.
Her throat tightened. "Of course, Liam," she said softly, tasting his name like a prayer.
They walked toward the taxi stand, but every step felt like walking into a trap. Her instincts screamed to turn back. To run. To take Liam and vanish again. But reality was a cruel mistress. She didn't have the money or the time to start over.
The cab ride was a blur. Liam chattered about trains and cartoons, his innocence a fragile shield against the storm brewing in her chest. When they reached the small apartment she'd rented, Isabella exhaled in relief. It wasn't much—just two bedrooms and peeling wallpaper—but it was safe. For now.
After settling Liam with his toys, she stepped onto the balcony, her gaze tracing the city lights as dusk bled into night. Somewhere out there, he was living like a king—untouched, unbroken. Did he ever think of her? Did he even care that she'd disappeared?
Her laugh was bitter. Of course, he didn't. Men like Alexander Knight didn't bleed. They didn't love. They destroyed, and they moved on.
She had been his bride for less than twenty-four hours before the world she knew burned to ashes.
The memory clawed back without warning—the shimmering lights of their wedding reception, the champagne laughter, the way he held her close as they danced. For one fleeting night, she believed in forever. Then came the whispers, the cruel truth she stumbled upon, the betrayal that shattered her soul.
Her hand trembled against the balcony rail. She had run that night, carrying more than just heartbreak.
"Mommy, look!" Liam's voice cut through the haze. He held up a crude drawing of the two of them—a stick figure woman with long hair and a tiny boy holding hands. Her heart softened as he ran into her arms, warm and alive. He was her reason. Her everything.
She kissed his hair, inhaling the scent of innocence. He can never know. Alexander can never find us.
As night deepened, Isabella tucked Liam into bed and sank onto the couch with her laptop. She needed to plan her next move—appointments for her mother, school for Liam, work for herself. Her savings were dwindling fast. She'd reached out to an old friend who promised her a job interview at an exclusive event-planning firm. It was her only shot at stability.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard when her phone buzzed. An unknown number flashed on the screen. Her pulse spiked.
"Hello?" Her voice was barely a whisper.
Static. Then a low chuckle slid through the line, dark and smooth like velvet over steel.
"Isabella."
The world stilled. The phone slipped from her grasp, landing with a soft thud on the couch. Her breath hitched as the voice coiled around her like smoke, familiar and lethal.
No. No. It can't be…
But it was.
"Did you really think you could hide from me?" His tone was calm, almost lazy, but it dripped with something darker—possession, fury, hunger.
Her knees buckled. The ghosts she'd been running from weren't ghosts anymore. They had a voice. And they had found her.
She gripped the phone with trembling fingers, forcing words past her dry throat. "Alexander…"
"Five years," he drawled, every syllable a blade. "Five years, Isabella. Did you really think disappearing would save you?"
Her chest heaved. "I don't owe you anything."
A pause. Then his laughter—a sound that made her blood run cold.
"You owe me everything. Including an explanation." His voice dropped to a whisper that burned hotter than fire. "Where are you, Isabella? Or should I say… how far are you willing to run when I already know where you are?"
Her heart stopped.
Then the line went dead.