Chapter 5
1215 Words
The day Isabella had met Edmund Lavigne, she felt the iron chain of survival pressing down on her shoulders. He had too much to lose and too much time left. Edmund had no desire to find love. He was looking for safety. He was a guy in need of a legitimate marriage to keep his foes from tearing his wealth apart like hungry wolves and an heir to inherit his empire.
And just as she saw in him her only escape, he saw in Isabella something he might use when they first met. He made her an offer. Security, wealth, and protection. In return, she would adopt his name, act as his loyal wife, and inherit everything when the time came. Isabella acted without hesitation.
She had spent too many years fighting, too many nights wondering if she’d make it to the next morning. And for once, she wanted power—the kind that made men like Lucas stay away. So, she became Mrs. Isabella Lavigne.
For a while, she was untouchable. No one dared to harm Edmund Lavigne’s wife.
His reputation inspired dread, his wealth demanded respect, and his name held authority. Isabella was shielded by the iron walls of Edmund's empire as long as he lived. She slept at night knowing that no one, not even the men who had once controlled her, could touch her, and she ate with dignitaries and strolled fearlessly through the magnificent halls of his house. Then Edmund passed away.
It came as a shock. They stated it was a stroke. Others warned of treachery and poison. However, the outcome remained the same. Edmund Lavigne was no longer with us. In an instant, her shield fell apart.
The power that once surrounded her vanished, dispersing like smoke in the wind.
Where once she had been the wife of a king, she was now seen as an intruder, an undeserving woman who had taken what wasn’t hers.
His enemies closed in like vultures circling a fresh corpse.
They didn’t believe she deserved his wealth.
They wanted his empire back.
The boardroom sharks—men who had stood by Edmund with smiles, drinking his wine and nodding at his decisions—now turned on her with sharpened knives.
Unexpectedly, his distant relatives—those who had never shown him any concern in life—came out with allegations and claims, accusing her of being nothing more than a gold-digger and a robber who had tricked an elderly guy into giving her everything. She struggled. She put up a fierce fight. However, the rumors got out. Lawsuits were piling up.
The dangers came. In the streets, people had pursued her. Someone had vandalized her house. The employees who used to service her now looked at her suspiciously, or worse, disdain. And before his enemies could execute their last maneuver,
She was first discovered by Lucas Blackwood. Before they could move— Lucas found her.
And now she stood before him, heart freezing, her mind blank. It was the realization of her biggest nightmare. Standing directly in front of her, like a shadow from her past, Lucas Blackwood's imposing presence sliced through the crowd. Angles of shadow were cast across his face by the market lights that flickered over his keen features. Nothing about him had changed, not even the fitted black suit, the unwavering confidence, or the air of authority.
He had grown even more intimidating.
Lucas took a step closer, his gaze locking onto her like a predator eyeing its prey. “You ran from me.” His voice was deep, controlled, but she could hear the restrained anger beneath it. “You stole from me.”
"I didn't steal anything." Isabella spoke firmly, although her heart was hammering hard against her chest. "I kept my son safe. from you." Lucas let out a long, mirthless chuckle.
"And yet, Isabella, here we are." He stepped forward again, his massive body bringing them closer. "Did you truly believe you could stay hidden from me indefinitely?"
That was her notion. It was what she had asked for. However, she had always known in her heart that this day would arrive. She was ready to hold him accountable. Lucas persisted. He was strong. Furthermore, he never let anything—especially something he saw as his—elude him. She was not, however, the same girl who had been sold to him as a slave, a w***e, or a possession.
She had been weak once. Not anymore.
Isabella lifted her chin, clutched to her son, meeting his gaze without flinching. “I won’t let you take him,” she said, every word laced with defiance.
Lucas’s lips curled into a dark smirk, one that sent shivers down her spine. “You don’t have a choice.” His voice dropped to a lethal whisper. “You’re still my wife.”
Isabella’s breath caught in her throat.
No.
That wasn’t possible.
Isabella stepped back and gripped her son's tiny hand, her fingers shaking. She spat, "I never consented to remain your wife. You lost that right the moment you treated me like a possession, like a slave, nothing but a s*x toy to carve up that little fantasy of yours.”
Lucas tilted his head, his smirk widening as if he found her defiance amusing. “And yet, legally, you still belong to me, I bought you remember?..” He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face before she could pull away. “Did you really think I’d let you go so easily?”
Her pulse raced, panic clawing at her throat. "I'll pay you back whatever, you had paid back then for my freedom" she said but he didn't say anything but smirked.
She had worked too hard to build a life away from him.
She had clawed her way out of the darkness, fought through every hardship, endured nights filled with fear just to escape the shadow of Lucas Blackwood. She had sacrificed everything to protect her son from the kind of man his father was.
She had suffered too much to be dragged back into his world.
I won’t let him take my son. she thought.
The thought was fierce, unshakable. It rang in her head like a war drum, drowning out the panic clawing at her throat. I won’t let him take my son. I won’t let him ruin what I’ve built.
Lucas must have seen the fire in her eyes because his expression darkened. The corners of his lips tilted, but it wasn’t a smile—it was something colder, something dangerous.
He whispered, "This time, Isabella," his voice low and warningly edged, his breath ghosting over her skin, "I won't let you run." She felt a chill go through her body. She stiffened. Because she wouldn't be running this time.
She would fight this time. And Lucas Blackwood would be sorry he had ever come for her this time, she wanted revenge and revenge was what she was going to have. His fingers became tighter around her wrist, his hold unwavering and iron-like. His presence was oppressive, and the distance between them disappeared. His voice was dangerously quiet, not threatening but promising control.
"I'm taking you home, Isabella. And, I do not take No for an answer."
- Writer
