All Chapters of Betrayed by love : Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

100 Chapters

Chapter Eighty-One Desperate Moves

POV: IsabellaSilence filled the space, broken only by the soft tick of the wall clock - each beat thudding inside me like something alive. Perched on the sofa's edge, fingers shaking, pulse roaring, eyes locked on the screen in my palm. Set for Tuesday: the procedure. Done before sunrise, hidden from Victor, kept far from every face that might say no.Shaking hands moved across the glass, eyes stuck on those words again and again. Unbelievable, really. As if stepping into something with no way back. Logic shouted - pause, think of Victor, the unborn child, everything already built - but then Mom came to mind. Her weak body. How she needed me. The fear that saying no would cost her life - that pulled harder.My breath caught, sourness burning at the back of my tongue. This queasiness that clung to me for days, once brushed off as just early pregnancy, now cut deeper - like regret sharpening with each step taken. Around my middle, my arms folded tight, almost like pressure from outside m

Chapter EightyTwo : The fake marriage

POV: IsabellaStillness filled every room, thick like fog after midnight. Perched on the highest stair, fingers trembled while my gut knotted tight - fear mixed with something sharper. Failure wasn’t an option. Not this time.Down the road Victor’s car was already gone, just minutes past. Before he came back, time left was short. Through my head flashed each piece - the stumble, the yell, the sound of hurt. It needed to seem true. Not one pause. Not one mistake.Air filled my lungs, sharp and sudden. Those steps seemed taller now, each one sharper than before. My foot hovered near the rim, clinging just enough. Pretending felt easier when I thought of rain-slick tiles, loose shoes, bad luck. Down came my hand, slow at first, then nothing held me.A hard drop came fast, then bones cracked against stone. Vision smearing, breath snagged halfway out. Fire lit up my ribs, dizziness rolled in like fog off water. A cry tore loose - something rehearsed too many times inside silence. Then nothing

Chapter Eighty three: Victor's rage

POV: VictorA weight settled after the doctor finished talking, every syllable pressing into me. Frozen there in the hall, sharp with antiseptic air, clarity came piece by piece. Traces remained, he explained - signs of a termination only recently completed. His voice stayed measured, eyes tracking my stance. The evidence suggested a procedure, one taken shortly before this momentA gasp stuck in the throat. Knuckles whitened, stinging across each palm now - fierce and bright. None of this could be happening. What once was tenderness toward Isabella shattered under a rush of anger instead. Heat rose through the chest, sparked by deceit.Down the hall, my steps echoed hard against the floor tiles before I opened the door. She lay there - Isabella - on the mattress, pale as parchment, her breathing thin, eyes wide when they caught mine. From somewhere broken came a sound: “Victor…” Almost no motion in her mouth.“You… you were behind this?” The question cracked out, trembling from rage pre

Chapter Eighty four: Shelter

POV: IsabellaStaring into the fractured glass inside Thomas’s small home, I hardly knew who looked back. Hair clung flat against my face, cheeks stained from crying, every breath heavy with everything that happened. Not long ago, Victor’s polished halls surrounded me; now, quiet simplicity held space instead. This place felt different - humble, still, nothing pretending to be more than it is. He said I should rest here, just for a while, till thoughts settled into something steady again.Safety matters most, Isabella, just like Mom always believed, Thomas murmured while passing over the steaming cup. A quiet look sat in his gaze, one that echoed a feeling long gone - something steady, though I never knew how much I needed it until then. Take your time before speaking to anyone, he added; let the air fill your lungs firstA small nod came, fingers clutching the mug like it might steady the shaking inside. Starting felt impossible - silence pressed down harder than sound. Out loud, the t

Chapter Eighty five : New beginning

POV: IsabellaSunlight crept in, gentle, behind the sheer fabric hanging by the window, touching walls and floor with quiet warmth. Mine. That word sat oddly right, even though the place held little beyond four walls and borrowed furniture. Heavy eyes, yes - but also something stubborn beneath them, refusing to look down. Names echoed: Victor shouting, Eleanor crying, Margaret always moving pieces on some hidden board. Each memory clung, thick as smoke after a fire long gone out. Still, what mattered now began tomorrow - and that meant stepping forward without turning back.A warm mug rested between my palms while steam curled up near my face. Lately, Thomas showed up different - no questions, just space where silence felt like kindness. His way of staying close without reaching too far spoke louder than words ever would.From the door frame, he watched with folded arms, a faint grin pulling one corner of his mouth. Maybe now it's starting to feel normal, he thought out loud.I glanced u

Chapter Eighty-Six :The Gala Invitation

Isabella's Pov Heavy, that envelope sat in my palm like it didn’t belong. Glossy stock, gold pressed words glaring up - sharp, fancy, the kind of thing I’d been dodging for weeks on end. My heart jumped, just from holding it there. Before a single flap lifted, breath caught somewhere too tight.Out came the card, slow, my hands not quite steady. Under the dim glow of my living room lamp, the letters seemed to hum“You are cordially invited to the annual Winter Crest Gala. Formal attire required. Attendance is requested by 7:00 p.m.”Stillness took hold, the paper drifting like a leaf caught mid-air. Inside, names spilled across the page, ink sharp against white. There buried beneath roles and labels - his name again, then twice more. Each sighting punched breath from my lungs. A jolt ran through me, sudden and electric.Down I went onto the couch, the invite stiff in my shaking fingers. He’ll definitely show up - of course he would. There’s no reason he wouldn’t. Thoughts crashed one a

Chapter Eighty-Seven :Preparation and Trepidation

Isabella's Pov A figure stared back at me from the glass, someone almost unfamiliar. Not quite sure if it was really me. Hair done up neatly, falling softly around my cheeks, yet my gaze - too big, too tense - gave everything away. The gown pressed close to my skin, rich green like shadowed leaves, fitting without effort. A slow exhale slipped out, uneven, uncertain. This evening means stepping into the crowd, under bright lights. Last night, Victor was supposed to show up. That idea squeezed my ribs until breathing hurt.A small twist of my body, checking each reflection. Maybe it’s possible. Only… stay calm. My thoughts trembled, closer to begging than belief. Pictures rushed back without warning: the sharp weight of his eyes when he first saw me after everything went public, the hushed moment we stole a brief, wrong kiss, then those still evenings filled with ordinary things that pulled me in too many directions.Shoving the past into shadows, my mind latched onto what came next.

Chapter Eighty eight : Arrival at the Gala

Isabella's Pov Out there, beyond the door of that shiny dark vehicle, stares began pressing against my skin. Golden light bathed the party's doorway, where waves of polished people drifted into the high-ceilinged room. Against the hard stone floor, my shoes made sharp sounds, one after another, tightening something deep in my gut - fear mixed with waiting. Fingers locked around my small bag like it might vanish if I let go.A tiny envelope passed into my hand, the valet’s grin fading behind it. Hardly noticed. Mind already moving through faces, searching. Then - there. Him.There he was. Victor stood by a small group, posture relaxed but every detail exact - the cut of his jacket flawless, not a strand out of line, gaze moving through faces till it caught mine. A heavy beat hit my ribs. That old squeeze behind the sternum came back without warning. Everything slowed. Light from above turned hazy, voices blurred into nothing. Only him remained clear.Breathe. That is what I kept repeati

Chapter Eighty Nine: An Unexpected Confrontation

Victor's Pov Tight gowns pressed close under too-bright lights. Chandeliers dropped sparkles across faces, while hushed laughs mixed with glass sounds through the high walls. Not rushing, spine straight, face still - yet something wild churned below. Each movement, each small dip of the head to someone known, acted like glue holding broken pieces together.Still stuck on her. Isabella. The dishonesty, the hidden choices, how she’d erased that life - it gnawed, wouldn’t let go. Fingers twitching, ready to face her down, make her speak, but people here hate drama. Moving slow feels wrong, even if rushing would burn it all. Tension pulled tight, barely holding.Memories shoved their way into my thoughts, sudden and clear. That night played again: her cheeks wet, fingers shaking, voice breaking as she lied about losing the baby. Each detail landed like a stone inside me, hard to breathe under what felt like guilt or grief or both. Still - despite everything - that old current hummed belo

chapter Ninety - Tension in Conversation

Isabella's Pov The gala venue had attractive lights and soothing sounds of polite laughter but the whole event made me feel trapped. I spent the past hour smiling through the crowd while my stomach remained unsettled as I engaged in small talk with people I knew. Victor stayed only a few feet from me while his entire body language displayed his full power and he had strong control over himself while his presence created an unbearable pressure that made me struggle to breathe.I started to converse with guests who stood beside me while I maintained my voice pitch to express my admiration for a woman’s necklace and I inquired about a colleague’s travel experiences. I kept staring at him because his eyes moved around the room while he would occasionally glance back at me. I shared the same feelings with him that included guilt and lingering desire and fear and growing anxiety about what people would think of me.A man in a tailored suit extended his hand while saying, “Isabella, darling

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