Isabella had always thought she was strong enough to face her past. She had built walls high enough to keep the ghosts away. But when Alexander King walked into that café yesterday, those walls didn't just crack—they crumbled.
All night, she tossed and turned, staring at the cracked ceiling of her tiny apartment, trying to erase his face from her memory. But it was impossible. His voice haunted her like a melody she swore she had forgotten. Deep, commanding, and cold. The kind of voice that once held her in chains of love, then shattered her world without mercy.
"Mommy, why are you awake?"
A sleepy voice broke her spiraling thoughts.
She turned. There he was—her entire world—curled up on the thin mattress beside her. Ethan's hair was messy, his little arms sprawled as if trying to hug the entire bed. Her heart softened instantly.
"Nothing, baby. Mommy was just thinking," she whispered, brushing his cheek with her fingers.
He blinked, struggling to stay awake. "About me?"
A shaky laugh escaped her lips. "Always."
She kissed his forehead and waited until his breaths turned even again. But her heart… her heart was anything but calm. Because for the first time in five years, fate had put her and Alexander in the same room.
And she had seen the way he looked at her.
Not with love. Not with warmth.
With fire.
Like a man who had found something he had lost—and wouldn't rest until it was his again.
---
Morning came too soon.
The city outside roared to life, but Isabella's apartment felt suffocating. Every sound made her flinch—the horn of a car, footsteps in the hallway, even the ring of her phone. She checked the caller ID and froze.
Private Number.
Her heart slammed against her ribs. No one had her new number. No one but…
The phone buzzed again. Her fingers trembled as she answered.
"Hello?" Her voice was barely a whisper.
Silence.
"Who's this?" she asked, her throat tight.
Then—deep, smooth, devastatingly familiar—came the voice she had prayed never to hear again.
"You look good, Isabella."
Her blood ran cold.
No. No, no, no.
She yanked the phone from her ear, staring at it as if it were a snake. He found her. After all these years, he found her.
And if Alexander King had her number, then the game she'd been running from was about to begin.
---
Hours later, she was still shaking when she walked Ethan to school. Every step felt like walking on broken glass. She hugged him tighter than usual at the gate, earning a confused look from him.
"Mommy will pick you up early today, okay?" she murmured.
He nodded, his small hands clutching her fingers. "Don't be sad, Mommy."
Her heart broke. She forced a smile. "I'm not, baby. Go on."
She watched him disappear into the classroom before she turned, praying for strength. But the moment she did, her breath caught.
He was there.
Standing by his sleek black car across the street.
Alexander King.
His tall frame leaned casually against the car, dressed in an immaculate black suit that hugged his broad shoulders. Sunglasses hid his eyes, but she didn't need to see them to feel their weight on her.
Her pulse skyrocketed. She froze like prey caught in the predator's gaze.
Then, slowly, deliberately, he removed the sunglasses.
Their eyes locked.
And in that single moment, every wall she had built, every promise she had made to herself, shattered.
---
"Hello, Isabella."
His voice was the same. Dark silk, smooth and commanding. The kind of voice that could melt steel and freeze blood at the same time.
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her throat was dry, her legs weak.
He took a step forward. Then another. Each step echoing like a countdown to her doom.
When he stopped in front of her, she caught a whiff of his cologne—expensive, intoxicating, achingly familiar. Her knees threatened to give out.
"You've changed," he said, his eyes scanning her like he was memorizing every inch. "But then… so have I."
"Alexander…" The name escaped her lips before she could stop it.
He smiled—a dangerous, knowing smile. "So you do remember me. Good. Because I've been looking for you, Isabella. For five. Long. Years."
Her heart stuttered. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
Then he leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear, his voice a lethal whisper.
"And this time, I'm not letting you run."
---
Cliffhanger:
She jerked back, panic flooding her veins, but before she could speak, a familiar voice called from behind.
"Mommy! Mommy!"
Her blood turned to ice.
Ethan.
He was running toward her, his little arms outstretched, smiling innocently.
And Alexander's gaze… shifted.
To the boy.
To her son.
His jaw tightened. His eyes darkened.
And in that moment, Isabella knew—her secret was no longer safe.