Isabel had never felt so excited. She clutched the shopping bags filled with gifts, eager to surprise Paul for his birthday. As she stepped into the grand entrance of their luxurious home, she expected warmth, joy—maybe even a grateful smile from her husband.
Instead, she was greeted by an eerie silence. Then, soft laughter floated down from upstairs. A woman’s laughter.
Isabel frowned. She set the bags down and followed the sound, her heart beating faster with every step. The moment she reached the bedroom door, her stomach dropped. A trail of women’s clothing—high heels, a silky dress—lay scattered across the floor.
With trembling hands, she pushed the door open. Her world shattered.
Paul lay in bed, completely relaxed, with a woman draped over him. They hadn’t even noticed her yet.
“Would you like to do it again?” Jane, the woman, purred, running a hand over Paul’s chest.
Paul smirked. “You know I would.”
Isabel gasped, and the sound made Paul finally look up. He didn’t panic. He didn’t even seem guilty. He simply sighed and stretched like this was the most normal thing in the world.
“Hey! Jane, this is my wife, Isabel,” he said casually, as if he were introducing a guest at a dinner party.
“Hi,” Jane said nonchalantly, making no move to cover herself.
Isabel’s vision blurred with rage. “This is insane! How could you—”
“Relax.” Paul waved her off. “Why are you back so early?”
Isabel stared at him in disbelief. “That’s my robe she’s wearing, Paul! She’s in our bed! And you care about why I’m early?”
“You said you’d be back by seven. It’s only 5:30.” Paul yawned. “Pick up your stuff and get lost for a couple of hours.”
Jane smirked. “Yes, honey, you have ten seconds to disappear.”
Isabel felt her chest tighten. The betrayal burned deep. She had given everything to this man. Without another word, she turned and stormed out. She would leave him forever.
She went to the guest room, grabbed a bag, and started packing. But as she stuffed clothes into the suitcase, a voice made her freeze.
“Why are you packing?” Paul’s voice was sharp now.
“I’m leaving you! The kids will stay with me!” Isabel shot back.
Paul laughed coldly. “Leaving me? And where exactly are you going?” He stepped closer, his towering presence suffocating her. “Your mother is dead. You have no friends. No job. No money. Without me, you’re nothing.”
Isabel clenched her fists. “I’ll figure it out.”
“Oh, really? And what about Julia and John?” Paul sneered. “You think you can take them? The moment I block your credit cards, you won’t even be able to feed them.”
Tears burned in Isabel’s eyes. “You have your mistress. What do you want from me?”
Paul’s face darkened. “They’re my children, too. And if you leave, you’ll never see them again.”
The cold certainty in his voice froze Isabel. He had power, connections, and money. If he wanted, he could make good on his threat. Her babies were sleeping at a friend’s house that night, unaware of the war raging in their home. She had to think of them.
Isabel made a decision—she would stay. For now.
The next morning, she packed the children’s bags and sent them to summer camp. Paul hadn’t come home the whole night, last seen leaving with Jane. When he did return, he acted like nothing had happened.
“Hello, darling!” he called cheerfully. “Sweetheart, how are you this morning?”
Jane followed, grinning. “Hi, Isabel.”
Isabel ignored them.
Paul raised an eyebrow. “Not in the mood for pleasantries? Fine. Set the table for three, will you?”
During breakfast, Paul bragged about his business deals, enjoying Isabel’s silence. Then, he said something shocking.
“We should make this a regular thing. Jane should move in.”
Isabel’s fork clattered against her plate. “What?”
Jane smirked. “I think that’s a great idea! Will you help me move my stuff, darling?”
“Of course.” Paul grinned.
Isabel felt something inside her snap. She wouldn’t be a prisoner in her own home.
That evening, she found a divorce lawyer, Charles. But when she explained the situation, his response crushed her hope.
“I can’t take your case. Your husband is too powerful and dangerous,” Charles said.
“Please,” she begged.
Charles sighed. “Find something against him. Then call me.”
That was it. That was her only chance. She needed proof.
She turned to an unlikely ally—Jane.
One morning, as she poured coffee, Isabel slid a cup toward Jane. “Help me,” she said. “You want money, don’t you? I’ll split everything I get from Paul—fifty-fifty.”
Jane hesitated. “Seventy-thirty.”
“Fine.”
They began gathering evidence, but before they could act, Paul overheard them.
“Get WHAT?” his voice boomed.
Jane turned on Isabel instantly. “Paul, she’s lying! She tried to bribe me!”
Paul’s face twisted in rage. “I won’t hit you, but I promise, I’ll make your life unbearable.”
“Paul, please! I swear I’ll be obedient!” Isabel fell to her knees, sobbing. “Just don’t take my children from me.”
Paul smirked. “Thank you for the suggestion. Until I decide what to do with you, you’re not allowed outside.”
Isabel was trapped.
Weeks passed. Paul controlled everything. He told the kids she was sick, keeping them from her. She was losing them.
Then, Paul left on a business trip. Isabel saw her chance.
Dressed as a maid, she sneaked into his office, using his key card to access his private files. As she took photos of incriminating documents, her phone buzzed. Her blood ran cold.
Paul was calling.
She looked up—cameras. He knew she was there.
Heart racing, she sent the files to the police and media and bolted for the exit. But she was too late.
Paul stormed in with security. “Take her. My wife is mentally unstable. She broke into my office.”
Isabel struggled. “Paul, stop! You know I’m not crazy!”
Jane smirked from the sidelines. “I told you I’d pick the winning side.”
Terror gripped Isabel. Paul would lock her away, and no one would help her.
But then—sirens.
Police officers burst in. “Mr. Yeats, you’re under arrest.”
Paul’s face twisted in shock. “What?”
Then Isabel saw him—Charles, the lawyer who had refused to help her before, standing by the police car.
She smiled. “I guess he’s a good man after all.”
Jane gawked. “I should have taken your offer.”
Isabel turned to her. “You deserve nothing.”
As Paul was led away, Isabel breathed deeply, tasting freedom. She had won. Now, she could start over—with her children, with a future she controlled. And this time, she would never let anyone take her power away again.