Chapter 7
It was only now–too late–that Dorian finally realized everything he had done to me over the years.
But some realizations come too late. And delayed love is worth less than nothing.
From that moment on, he began to unravel.
He refused to accept I was truly gone. He hired private investigators, combed through reports, chased dead ends.
Eventually, someone got their hands on the footage of the crash.
He barely made it halfway through before he had to stop, shaking.
After that, he started drinking–hard.
He’d lock himself in my old room, the one that still smelled like me, drowning himself in whiskey and regret.
Some nights he’d sit alone in the nursery, staring at the tiny cribs, the soft onesies, the alphabet blocks I’d carefully picked out, and cry until he passed out.
Then came the obsession.
He began rewatching the crash footage over and over, frame by frame, minute by minute–looking for anything, anything, that didn’t add up.
And eventually… he found it.
Something was off.
The moment he realized I faked my death, he snapped into motion.
Within one month, he had tracked down my new address.
He booked the next flight without hesitation.
But someone else had heard too.
Miranda was already at the airport by the time he arrived.
She ran toward him, blocking his path, desperation in her eyes.
er
“Dorian, don’t go! Whatever you want—I’ll give it to you. Don’t you see? Isabella ran. She faked her death because she doesn’t love you anymore!”
Her voice cracked. “I’ll give you children–ten if you want. Just please, don’t leave me,”
Dorian paused, his face calm–too calm.
He gently brushed her hand away.
“My mate has always been Isabella. No one else.”
Tears spilled down Miranda’s face.
“But you loved me,” she whispered. “You never even liked her. Dorian, why?”
He turned to her, his voice quiet.
“I spent years angry at her- for bonding with me, for becoming my Luna. But deep down, I knew. It was always her. It’s always been
Isabella.”
He pulled a checkbook from his coat pocket, scribbled something, and handed it to her without a second glance,
“Take the money. And stay the hell away from her.”
Chapter 7
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Then he walked away without looking back.
But it was already too late.
By the time he arrived, I was gone.
I had returned to Wintermere.
I never intended to hide forever. I knew Dorian would find out eventually.
He was the one who made the mistakes.
He was the one who had to live with them.
All I had to do… was begin again.
The next time we saw each other was at a charity gala.
I arrived on the arm of Theron Valmont, dressed in silver satin, head held high.
People who once thought they knew
turned
to
stare, clearly stunned by the change.
And that was when Dorian stormed in–like
a
man
who’d been holding his breath for weeks.
His eyes found me instantly.
He pushed through the crowd and grabbed my
Wrist, eyes blazing red.
“Isabella,” he choked. “You’re alive.”
He reached for me–maybe to hold me, maybe to beg.
But before he could touch me, Theron stepped in and kicked him square in the chest.
Dorian stumbled back, nearly falling.
Theron’s voice was low and dangerous. “Touch her again, and I’ll break your hand.”
I could sense his jealousy flaring, so I reached over and gently took his hand. Only then did his anger ease.
And just like that, my heart settled too–because for the first time, someone was standing up for me without hesitation.
When I turned to Dorian again, there was no emotion left in my eyes.
No hatred. No love. Just… emptiness.
He stared at our clasped hands like they were knives in his chest.
His voice cracked. “Who is he?”
I smiled faintly. “My fiancé.”
Dorian’s world tilted.
Theron had loved me for ten years. And for those same ten years, I’d been in love with Dorian.
But unlike Dorian, Theron had waited.
And when I finally opened my eyes, he was right there–steady, patient, unshakable.
This time, my eyes weren’t clouded. I saw the depth of his love–fierce, unwavering–and I let myself feel it.
A week ago, I accepted Theron’s proposal. He’s been nothing but good to me, and my heart is finally ready to open again.
Dorian gave a sharp, bitter laugh. “Isabella, we haven’t even broken the mate bond. And now you’re engaged?!”
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I met his eyes and said clearly, “We have broken the bond.”
