CHAPTER 2
602 Words
Arthur swallowed the lump in his throat.
He had always worked tirelessly to prove to Isabelle that he was man enough to take care of her. But no matter how hard he tried, it was never enough.
Suddenly, a thought struck him.
The dress.
A small smile crept onto Arthur’s face as he remembered the beautiful gown he had stopped by to buy for Isabelle on his way home.
It had cost him his entire savings for the past month, plus the extra earnings from his weekend jobs.
He had taken his time selecting it, making sure it was elegant, something she would love.
He imagined the surprise and excitement on Isabelle's face when she saw it.
Finally, he could prove to Isabelle that he cared.
"Isabelle," he said, his voice lighter now, "I have a special gift for you."
She raised an eyebrow.
"A gift?"
Without delay, Arthur hurried to the living room, where he had dropped the bag containing the gown before he collapsed on the couch earlier.
He picked it up and rushed back to Isabelle, his heart pounding with anticipation.
Smiling, he opened the bag and carefully pulled out the dress, spreading it out in front of her.
It was beautiful—a soft blue fabric with delicate embroidery.
But instead of the excitement Arthur had expected, Isabelle scoffed and let out a loud hiss.
She snatched the dress from his hands, holding it up like it was something filthy.
"Is this what you call a special gift?" she sneered.
Arthur’s heart dropped. "Isabelle, I—"
"This is trash!" she spat, glaring at him.
"You actually thought you could impress me with a piece of garbage like this? You are so shameless, Arthur!"
Arthur felt a lump form in his throat.
"This gown isn't even worth hundred dollars!" Isabelle continued, shaking her head in disgust.
Arthur's hands trembled.
He wanted to tell her how much he had sacrificed, how hard he had worked, how every penny he had saved went into buying that gown for her. But the words wouldn’t come out.
Then, before he could react, Isabelle grabbed the gown with both hands and tore it apart.
Arthur gasped as he watched the fabric rip into shreds.
She let the torn pieces fall to the floor at his feet.
"Here," she said coldly.
"Take care of it."
Arthur stared at the ruined gown.
All that effort. All those sleepless nights. All for nothing.
"Now, get back to work," Isabelle ordered.
"I want the hall cleaned before morning, or you'll have to cover the cost of hiring cleaners!"
Arthur didn’t move. His body felt frozen with his heart hollow.
Just then, Harriet walked into the room with a smug smile on her face.
"Isabelle," she called sweetly, holding up a phone.
"Your phone was ringing in my room, so I thought I’d bring it to you myself. Looks like it’s an important caller."
Isabelle’s expression changed instantly with her anger fading as she took the phone from Harriet.
A name flashed across the screen—Chris Williams.
Arthur had heard of him.
The Williams family was among the wealthiest in Dalton City, their empire stretching across the country with a hundred-billion-dollar investment firm.
They were first-class elites, people far above the Lewis family.
Chris, the eldest son of the Williams family, was the one calling Isabelle.
Arthur observed how Isabelle's lips curled into an eager smile as she picked up the call.
"Chris Williams," she said in a sweet, coquettish voice, her tone filled with warmth and admiration—one Arthur had never heard directed at him.
- Writer
