At Wayne Manor, a grand function was taking place in honor of a new business deal that Jacob Wayne had signed earlier that day.
Isabella, his wife, stood in a corner, her heart heavy with what her eyes were witnessing.
"You look beautiful today, Vendetta."
It was her husband, speaking to another woman in a flattering manner. She saw him trace a finger down the woman's cheek and caught the way she blushed.
Isabella clenched her fists. She was annoyed but helpless, she acknowledged the woman's beauty and deep down, knew she couldn't compete with her.
"Isabella!"
An elderly voice called out, snapping her from her thoughts. It was Jacob's mother—her mother-in-law.
"Have you served the desserts yet?" the middle-aged woman spat coldly as she approached. "You're standing here doing nothing! What's the matter with you? Must I teach you a lesson here?!"
"No, Mother, it's not like that. I'll get the desserts," Isabella managed to say, her heart hammering as she cast one last glance at her husband. He was still flirting with that woman—someone far older than her, someone within his own age group.
Swallowing her frustration, Isabella hurried off, unwilling to stand there another second watching their shameless display.
Jacob and Isabella had been married for almost a year, yet their relationship had seen no progress.
Despite everything, she had been willing to try. But now, it was clear things were spiraling out of control.
"Isabella!"
Her mother in law's voice snapped her at out of her thought
"I'm coming, Mother!" she yelled back, grabbing a tray of desserts and heading out. She carefully arranged them on the table, but her eyes kept drifting toward Jacob and the woman.
Who was she? And why was Jacob so drawn to her?
Just as she bit her finger in frustration, whispers from the guests reached her ears.
"The man deserves better, doesn't he?"
"Obviously. Men these days need real women in their lives, not these new-generation girls."
"Agreed. That girl has no class—she's boring, plain, and has nothing to offer."
Their words stabbed at her, making it impossible to even lift her gaze toward Jacob.
But that wasn't all.
"Women who don't belong in high society shouldn't be given a place in it. If they are…" A man downed his glass of wine. "They'll only misuse it. Just look at her."
Isabella's heart clenched painfully. She didn't want to know who else was speaking, but something pushed her to turn around.
"I agree with you, Mr. Samson," Jacob's mother chimed in, adding more salt to Isabella's wounds. "My son would be better off with that woman than with his lowlife housewife."
"Then what are you waiting for?" the man scoffed. "Convince him to marry Vendetta. He's your son—he'll listen to you."
Isabella swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing herself to stay composed. She couldn't let Jacob's mother see how shattered she was. Turning away, she plastered on a forced smile, but inside, she was crumbling.
No matter what she did, this family would never accept her.
She watched as they took photos—photo after photo—without her. Vendetta was included, holding onto Jacob as though they were the married ones
It enraged her, but what could she do?
The function eventually came to an end. While the house staff began rearranging the place, Isabella retreated to her room.
She sat on the edge of the bed, staring at a framed wedding picture of her and Jacob. She smiled, but deep down, she was breaking.
Her marriage was falling apart.
Just as she tried to process her thoughts, the door suddenly slammed open. Jacob stormed in, a stack of papers in hand.
"Jacob?!" Isabella jumped to her feet. "What's the—"
"Take this and sign it."
He shoved the papers toward her.
"What are these—"
"They're divorce papers," he said coldly. "Sign them and get out of my life. You were a decent housewife while you lasted, but now I need someone from my own class. And that person isn't you."
His words were like daggers, cutting through her skin, piece by piece.
"Sign it!" he barked.
"You're divorcing me… because of her?" Isabella's voice trembled.
Jacob's glare darkened.
"Don't you get it? Can't you understand?" he sneered. "I'm embarrassed to even stand next to you. You're a boring woman with nothing to offer me or my family. Just leave."
"Jacob, please," she pleaded. "Just listen to me—"
But he didn't let her finish. Instead, he tossed a credit card onto the bed.
"Here. Use this to buy yourself a new life. But I don't want to see you anywhere near me or my family ever again."
Just as he turned to leave, his mother stepped in.
"Oh, finally."
Jacob didn't even stop to hear her words. He walked away without a second glance.
Isabella stood there, speechless. She knew there was no point trying to reason with her mother-in-law. That woman had wanted her gone from the start.
"Make sure you don't leave anything behind," the older woman said. "If you need help packing, ask a servant. I don't want to see a trace of you in this house after today."
Isabella looked away, her body trembling. Pain clouded her vision as she picked up the pen and, without a second thought, signed the papers.
A smirk curled on her mother-in-law's lips. She snatched the documents from Isabella's hands.
"It was nice knowing you while it lasted. Be careful on your way out."
With that, she left, leaving Isabella alone to drown in her agony.
But she didn't cry.
She refused to.
Instead, she packed her things quickly, without hesitation.
When she was done, she searched for something—something she had never thought she would need.
A key.
She pulled it out of her bag. Jacob had gifted her an apartment on her birthday, but she had never seen its importance.
Not until now.
With her bags in hand, she walked out of the room.
Outside, near the car, she saw Jacob and Vendetta. They weren't just talking anymore.
They were kissing.
Right in front of everyone.
As if she had never existed.
Isabella turned away, swallowing the lump in her throat. She didn't want to see any more of their shamelessness.
Hailing a taxi, she got inside, her mind tangled with everything the Wayne family had put her through.
"Ma'am, are you okay back there?" the driver asked.
"Yes… Just drive."
She shut her eyes, but a sharp migraine pulsed against her skull.
She held in the pain until she reached her apartment