CHAPTER 2: THE WOMAN OUTSIDE
Isabella stood beneath the cold wash of city lights, her heels in her hand, her hair loosened by the wind.
She didn’t cry.
Not when the doors shut.
Not when the guests stared.
Not when Marcus chose someone else over her.
Because she had already mourned him long ago.
Her phone buzzed.
“Everything is in motion,” her father said calmly. “You have control now.”
She looked up at the towering glass building.
For eleven years, she had built it in silence.
Watched Marcus take credit.
Watched him grow arrogant enough to forget one thing:
Power doesn’t come from who speaks the loudest.
It comes from who signs the final document.
“Make sure he feels it,” she said softly.
May you like
A pause.
Then her father replied, “He will.”
