No Longer Your Luna: A Mother's Reckoning

ISABELLA'S THREAT

THIRD PARTY POINT OF VIEW.

Isabella fumed as she watched Selena move through the house, completing her chores with quiet efficiency. Every gesture, every step the woman took, ignited a fresh wave of resentment in Isabella's chest. The way Selena straightened a cushion or wiped down a surface, movements so practiced, so familiar, reminded Isabella that this woman had once belonged here in ways she wanted to belong here.

She despised having her around, this ghost of Victor's past who refused to disappear. The knowledge that Selena remained Victor's wife, at least on paper, gnawed at her constantly, a splinter she couldn't extract. Isabella's fingers curled into fists whenever she caught sight of that plain gold band Selena still wore, a symbol of legitimacy Isabella herself wanted to possess.

What right did this woman have to such composure, such dignity, when she had been reduced to nothing more than hired help? The injustice of it burned in Isabella's throat like bile, yet beneath her anger lurked something darker, a whisper of fear that perhaps Victor's connection to Selena ran deeper than he admitted, that some bonds couldn't be severed by divorce papers or new lovers.

The irony wasn't lost on Isabella. Victor loved her. Victor had told her so many times who his heart and mind belonged to and it was not to that woman he claimed to be his wife.

She knew this with absolute certainty. His eyes softened when they fell upon her face, his voice dropped to that intimate register reserved only for her ears. Yet despite this devotion, she held no legitimate place in his life. No title. She wanted the status of being his wife. She was merely his mistress, a marriage breaker, labels that clung to her like stains she couldn't wash away yet until that woman was gone.

Isabella clenched her fists, her nails digging crescents into her palms. She deserved to be known as Victor's wife, to stand beside him openly, to claim the position that rightfully belonged to her. Instead, she remained in the shadows while Selena, unloved and unwanted, still wore the ring that should have graced Isabella's own finger.

Consumed by resentment, Isabella decided to approach Selena. She and Selena had never spoken apart from that calculated encounter at Leo's school, the day Victor had deliberately sent her to collect his son. Isabella understood the message he had been sending: he wanted his wife to know about her existence.

The memory still brought a flush of satisfaction to her cheeks. Victor wasn't hiding her in shadows like some shameful secret. He acknowledged his love for her openly, almost defiantly. He had even introduced her to his family, and they had embraced her with a warmth that Selena apparently never received. His mother called her "dear." Isabella savored each small victory, collecting them like trophies.

She knew what people would say, that she was the other woman, that Victor was betraying his marriage vows. But Isabella had convinced herself these moral judgments didn't apply to their situation. Victor never seemed troubled by his marital status. He never flinched when his phone rang, never lowered his voice when speaking to her in public, never showed the slightest concern for how Selena might feel about any of it.

Why would he? Isabella reasoned. He didn't love Selena. He had told her as much during those late-night conversations when his defenses came down. The marriage was a formality, a family arrangement that had long since lost any emotional meaning.

Selena stood at the kitchen counter preparing dinner when Isabella swept in with theatrical precision. Brushing past her, Isabella's shoulder struck Selena's with deliberate force. She glanced back, feigning remorse, though her smile betrayed the insincerity of her apology.

"It's okay," Selena murmured, refusing to show any pain. She returned to chopping vegetables as if nothing had happened.

The indifference ignited something in Isabella. Her mask slipped. Crossing her arms, she studied Selena with undisguised contempt, her gaze sharp and assessing, as though evaluating something beneath her notice.

"Your husband brought another woman home, and you don't care?" Isabella sneered at Selena, her voice dripping with contempt.

Selena remained silent, her expression unreadable.

"Speak! Are you mute?" Isabella's anger flared.

Selena turned slowly, her gaze piercing. "What do you want from me?" She paused, letting the question hang in the air. "If you want me to talk, then answer this, aren't you embarrassed for being a homewrecker?"

Isabella smirked, appearing completely unaffected by Selena's words. "Victor loves me, not you," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "Why should I be embarrassed by that?"

The question hung in the air like poison. Selena's face crumpled, the hurt flooding her features before she could compose herself. The pain was so raw, so immediate, that no mask could hide it. Isabella caught that wounded expression and her smile widened with cruel satisfaction, savoring every second of Selena's anguish.

"You're the embarrassing one, Selena," Isabella continued, circling her prey with calculated precision. "You know your husband doesn't like you, yet you still stay?" She paused, letting the words sink in like daggers. "Nobody in this family likes you. They all prefer me, despite you having worked for them like a dog for years. It's remarkable, really, they have no appreciation for you whatsoever."

Isabella tilted her head, feigning sympathy. "I almost feel sorry for you, Selena. You know, as a fellow woman." Her voice dropped to a whisper, intimate and venomous. "Even your son prefers me. How utterly sad is that?"

Her laughter echoed through the room, sharp and mocking. That was the final blow Selena could endure. A single tear escaped, tracing a hot path down her cheek, but she wiped it away quickly, desperately trying to salvage what remained of her dignity.

"Leave," Isabella commanded, waving her hand dismissively. "You're embarrassing yourself, looking so pathetic." She paused, letting her words sink in before delivering the final blow. "I'm simply better than you in every way. You are never going to win against me."

Selena's hands trembled at her sides, but she held her ground. "I am not leaving," she said, her voice barely above a whisper yet firm with determination. "My kids need both of their parents together."

Isabella's laugh was cold and sharp. "No they don't," she replied, taking a step closer. "Leo doesn't want you. He wants me." She watched Selena's face for any sign of breaking, savoring the moment. "Nobody wants you. You are useless, a burden to everyone around you." Her eyes narrowed as she delivered her ultimatum. "Just do what's best for yourself and leave on your own before I make you leave."

The threat hung in the air between them like poison.

Isabella turned on her heel and strode away, her footsteps echoing down the hallway. Selena stood frozen, her chest tight and her breathing shallow. The shock of Isabella's cruelty had rooted her to the spot, rendering her unable to move or think clearly. Minutes passed before she could even process what had just happened, the venom of those words seeping deeper into her heart with each passing second.