The Tycoon's Secret Wife's Escape novel Chapter 88

Chapter 88

Isabella

“How?” I asked Grayson, my voice trembling after learning that Charlotte was still alive.

“Someone helped her escape,” he replied, his voice tense through the phone line.

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I absorbed this without surprise. The circumstances of Charlotte’s escape were suspicious from the start, as were the precise timing and flawless execution. This wasn’t the work of an amateur; whoever was behind this had influence and resources.

Grayson continued, “We’re still investigating how she managed to pull it off.”

Unease twisted in my gut, but I pushed it aside to focus on his following words.

“What’s the second bad news?” I asked, hoping it wouldn’t be as devastating as the first revelation.

“My lawyer has already filed the divorce papers,” he said.

My lips pressed together as a complex mix of emotions washed over me.

I was genuinely grateful that Grayson had honored my request. This could be our chance to start over–maybe even build a better, healthier relationship. We had both been deeply hurt, but now we had an opportunity to move forward, even if the future was still uncertain.

“I’ll support whatever you decide, Bella,” he murmured, seeming to read my thoughts.

“Thank you. I’ll wait for your arrival,” I said, forcing steadiness into my tone. “I have to go now. They’re calling me for dinner.”

“See you soon, Bella.”

After ending the call, I took a deep breath to compose myself before heading to the dining room, where my family had already seated.

“I’m sorry,” I said, offering a polite smile. “I’ve been dealing with jet lag and couldn’t get up immediately.”

“It’s fine,” Grandmother replied. “I heard you came all the way from Europe for Joanne’s auction event.”

The comment caused subtle grimaces around the table–my relatives disliked Grandmother’s obvious favoritism. Even so, several of them eagerly tried to grab her attention with transparent attempts to impress her.

One of my aunts cut through the chatter with a direct question.

“Are you pregnant, Isabella?”

“Yes,” I replied, taking a measured sip of juice.

Mom and Dad stared at me, their wide eyes and parted lips revealing how blindsided they were by the news. “How come? You haven’t even introduced your husband to us yet,” Uncle remarked, his tone heavy with judgment. “Was Gabriel Sterling the father? Your ex–fiancé?” another relative chimed in, deliberately stirring trouble. “Mom, haven’t you heard? She broke things off with Gabriel!” my cousin interjected with a sneer. “Isabella is a married woman. Pregnancy at her age is perfectly natural, even expected,” my mom defended.

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Chapter 88

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“Aunt Mary, don’t make excuses for Isabella. That’s exactly why she keeps making bad decisions. She has a husband, but it’s laughable that she showed up earlier with Evan Monroe,” my cousin added sarcastically.

I took a deep breath, determined not to let their judgment affect me. “My personal life isn’t up for debate at this table. And since you’re so concerned about my husband, he’ll arrive tomorrow.”

I didn’t want to engage with their criticisms, but knew I had to stand my ground.

My grandmother’s frown deepened. It was clear she wasn’t happy with my choices, and the disappointment etched on her face was hard to ignore.

I pressed on, refusing to waver. “This day isn’t about my personal life. It’s about celebrating Grandmother’s birthday.” The room fell into an uncomfortable silence, and I took the opportunity to focus on my meal, grateful for the brief respite.

Later that evening, my parents asked to speak with me privately after dinner.

“Issa,” Mom began cautiously, “I heard Joanne withdraw her support to your designs. Is that true?”

“Yes,” I replied. “And I’m sure you already know why. So tell me the truth–were you outsourcing ghost designers for your company?”

I stared directly at Mom, my gaze unwavering.

But, as always, Dad answered, his tone devoid of warmth. “Watch just our daughter. You have no right to question us like this.”

your

tone with

your

mother. You may

be

grown,

but you’re

I didn’t bother responding to him. The truth was, ever since I’d learned they weren’t my biological parents, my feelings for them had changed entirely.

“If the only reason you brought me here were to scold me, question me about things you already know, or undermine me, I’d rather go to my room and get some rest.”

Dad looked ready to launch into another lecture, but Mom intervened, placing a calming hand on his arm.

“Issa, I’m old,” she said softly, her voice laced with resignation. “These hands can’t create like they used to. The ghost designers were necessary; what choice did I have?”

If Joanne hadn’t revealed that those designs were stolen from Bella Jones, I would have continued believing in Mom’s supposed talent. That’s one of the grudges I hold against this family–I thought Mom was talented, and I believed I inherited that from her.

“Just tell me what you want from me,” I said, feeling drained by the conversation.

“About that… On auction night, we spoke to Evan Monroe, and he asked for your hand in marriage. He also informed us about Cassie’s inheritance conditions,” Dad explained.

“What? Evan told you that?” I asked in disbelief, frowning as I sensed where this was going.

Of course, he would

go