Bella's cheeks burned with embarrassment as she quickly shook her head. "Shut up, I wasn't," she snapped, her voice trembling slightly. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, though inside, her mind was spinning.
In an instant, she realized she was no longer in the familiar silk nightgown. Instead, she was dressed in a sleek, plain white halter dress—probably expensive, judging by how the thick fabric hugged her body perfectly. Yet, she hated the way it exposed her shoulders and legs. Her eyes flicked over her reflection in a nearby mirror—her skin gleamed under the chandelier's glow, smooth and freshly shaved. She noticed her feet—dressed in striking red four-inch heels, far taller than her usual flats, the iconic red soles unmistakable and costly.
Her mind raced. Why am I dressed like this? Did he...?
She turned sharply to Josef, who still sat smirking, eyes gleaming with mischief. His expression was infuriatingly confident, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.
"Don't worry," Josef said softly, a teasing edge in his voice. "I didn't do it—although I've seen you naked before. Do you like it?"
Her stomach clenched. She clenched her fists tighter, her voice rising with anger and confusion. "Like what? You practically kidnapped me, harassed me, and made me a clown?"
Despite her furious words, a small, shameful part of her admitted—she liked the pampering. The attention. The feeling of being desired. But that was wrong, wasn't it?
Her eyes darted downward, noticing the only accessories she wore—pearl earrings and a gold band on her left ring finger. That ring felt out of place, foreign. It didn't belong there. It made her feel like an impostor—like she was pretending to be someone she wasn't.
Her fingers trembled as she looked at Josef, her mind a whirlwind of fear, confusion, and unspoken longing. How did she get here? Why was she dressed like this? And most importantly—what did he want from her?
Josef's eyes lingered on her, a flicker of pride and longing crossing his face. He couldn't help himself—deep down, he still saw her as the beautiful woman he once knew, the girl who had stolen his heart. Her olive skin shimmered under the chandelier's glow, her dark hair cascading in soft waves around her shoulders, her face a perfect blend of innocence and strength. They had hired a top glam team to transform her into this stunning vision, a goddess reborn for him. Yet, her attitude—her sharp, accusing words—reminded him of what they'd lost.
The Mirabella he remembered was gentle, loving, and confident. The woman before him now was fierce, defiant, and angry. The love he once cherished seemed distant, slipping further away with each passing second. But he wasn't ready to give up—not yet.
He straightened his suit, fixing his cuffs, then looked at her with a mixture of resolve and tenderness. "Let's go," he commanded softly but firmly.
Bella's eyes shot to him, her voice trembling with rage. "What do you mean by that? Where are we going?"
"You'll find out soon enough," Josef replied, his smirk returning, hiding the storm of emotions beneath.
"I'm not going anywhere with you," she shot back, her voice rising. "This has to stop! I'm not your wife anymore!"
In her fury, she kicked off her heels, the loud clack echoing as they hit the floor. She yanked her earrings out, tossing them onto the plush carpet. Her hand shot to her ring finger, grasping at the gold band that had once symbolized her love—and trying to rip it off.
"Why... can't... I... take this... off?" she yelled, frustration boiling over. Her face contorted with rage and helplessness. "Did you—fucking—glue this?"
She stepped back, trying to force the ring free, but it wouldn't budge. Her fingers trembled as she struggled, her breathing ragged with anger.
Josef watched her, his jaw clenched, a flicker of pain crossing his eyes. He saw her frustration, her defiance—and this might be the tipping point. He needed to use his last weapon to contain the beast in her.
Bella took a step back, her breath hitching as she caught her balance. Her chest heaved, the tight dress constricting her movements, yet she refused to break. Her hands remained on her hips, fists clenched in defiance, even as her mind reeled from Josef's sudden shift.
Josef's gaze flicked downward, briefly fixating on her exposed shoulders, the way her dress strained against her body—an image that burned into his mind. He tried to look away, but his pride and pain had overtaken him, transforming him into a man she no longer recognized.
"Okay," she said, voice trembling with a mixture of anger and despair. "How about this? Let's get divorced."
The words hung heavy in the air, like a final blow. Josef felt a sharp stab of pain—her words echoing through the hollow space between them. They had once vowed to spend their lives together, to face whatever came as one. Had that promise been nothing but a lie? Was the woman who made it truly gone?
Suddenly, the cold mask of resolve hardened his face. The love, the tenderness, all of it vanished in an instant, replaced by a cruel, ruthless man they all knew well. His eyes darkened, and his voice dropped, thick with menace.
"You can't," he said, voice distant yet resolute, carrying the weight of a man who had lost all patience.
"What do you mean, I can't?" Bella snapped, her voice rising with defiance. "As far as I know, divorce is still legal in this country!"
A flicker of fury ignited in Josef's eyes. He clenched his fists, trying to contain the storm within, but it was too late. The rage overtook him, and he let loose a roar that echoed through the room—deep, primal, a lion's cry that shook the very walls.
"You can't!" he bellowed, voice thunderous and commanding, reverberating with the fury of a man scorned. "Unless... you had a hundred million dollars to pay me. You... fucking, thieving bitch!"
The words spilled from his mouth like venom, cruel and unfiltered. Josef's chest heaved as he stared at her, his face a mask of rage and disappointment. His eyes bore into hers, searching for the shock, the fear, the disbelief that was now painted across her face.
Bella stumbled, her legs shaky beneath her. Fear flickered in her eyes—never had she seen him so furious, so unhinged. She looked like a dog wagging its tail beneath its legs, broken, defeated.
The room fell silent for a moment—except for the ragged breathing of two broken souls caught in a storm neither could escape.
Bella trembled, clutching her arms tightly around herself as a cold wave of fear washed over her. The thought of being called a thief—of having nothing, barely a few thousand dollars to her name—made her stomach churn. Her mind raced, trying to grasp how things had spiraled so far out of control.
Josef finally paused, his face hardening into a distant mask. Without a word, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her standing alone in the vast, suffocating room. The silence was deafening, broken only by her ragged breathing.
She hugged herself instinctively, her shoulders trembling as tears threatened to spill. Regret flooded her mind—she had spoken out of desperation, anger, and fear. She shouldn't have pushed him so far. She could've pleaded, begged for mercy. Anything but this.
Then, out of nowhere, a warm jacket was draped over her shoulders. Bella's eyes widened in surprise. The fabric was soft and comforting—a stark contrast to the cold dread that had taken hold of her. A deep, familiar voice spoke gently, almost soothing.
"Cover yourself. You're freezing."
She turned slightly and saw him—tall, slender, with a handsome face that seemed both gentle and masculine. His pristine white dress shirt strained over his muscled upper body, hinting at strength beneath the polished exterior. His eyes held a calm kindness that she desperately needed right now.
She instinctively reached out and grabbed the jacket, pulling it closer. Her gaze flickered to his face—the same face she remembered from her high school days. That familiar, comforting face.
Suddenly, a bright smile appeared on his lips. "Michael!"
"Hi, Mirabella. Long time no see," he said casually, a friendly tone in his voice.
Her cheeks warmed with embarrassment. She looked a mess—distressed, disheveled, probably with tear-streaked cheeks. She felt exposed, vulnerable, and ashamed.
"Hi..." she mumbled, voice trembling.
A flicker of realization struck her. Her eyes widened as she looked at him more closely. Her stomach clenched with suspicion.
"Wait—are you the... his lawyer?" she asked cautiously, dread creeping into her voice.
Michael chuckled softly, a gentle, brief laugh. "Umm... yeah. My father was his lawyer. I just took over his practice."
Her brow furrowed. "Did your father... die?"
He shook his head with a slight smile. "No, he just retired."
Bella tugged the jacket tighter around her, feeling a mixture of relief and shame. She whispered, "Sorry. You had to see me like this."
Michael's expression softened. "It's okay. Let me get you some water first."
He turned to head toward the kitchen. Bella's eyes darted downward in panic. Her foot was throbbing—she could feel the sting of what she suspected was a cut. In her haste, she had stepped on a stray earring, and now pain shot through her like lightning.
She bit her lip to hold back a curse. Her face flushed with embarrassment. Carefully, she limped toward the chair in the dining room, trying to hide her foot. Her movements were shaky, and she pressed her hand against the wall for support.
Michael placed the folder gently on the table, his expression a mix of professionalism and reluctant sympathy. He watched her closely, noting the pallor of her face and the tremor in her hands.
"You see," he continued softly, "the prenup is straightforward. If your marriage ends before five years, you walk away empty-handed. If it lasts longer, you're entitled to half of his assets—nothing more, nothing less."
Bella's mind spun. She had barely enough to pay her rent, her tiny savings long gone. The idea of inheriting wealth or even half of Josef's fortune seemed like a distant fantasy—something she'd never dared to dream of.
"But Josef said I owed him money," she whispered, voice trembling. "A lot of money. Money I could never pay back, not in ten lifetimes."
Michael's face softened slightly, but his tone remained matter-of-fact. "That's because... before you ran, you took checks. Encashed them. That's why he's claiming a debt—almost a hundred million dollars."
Her heart sank. The room seemed to close in around her as the weight of his words hit her like a stone. Why would Miracle, her twin, need that much? She married him for stability, for love—wasn't that enough?
"So, I can't divorce him yet because I had to pay him first?" It was more of a statement than a question.
Suddenly, a realization hits her. They are supposed to be married for five years this December, only two months away. So if I didn't divorce him until that time, I could have half of his assets, then pay my debt, which is only a drop in the bucket.
"I know what you're thinking, Mirabella," Michael remarked accusingly. "Stay married for a few months, you'll get his money, right? Well...." he said with disgust and a smirk, "you had to leave him an heir before getting anything."
"An heir," she whispered, voice trembling. "You mean... I'd have to have a baby with him?"
A cold sweat broke out on Bella's forehead. Bella's stomach twisted. The thought of being forced into a pregnancy—just to secure her own freedom—made her want to scream. But she also knew that her options were limited, and her desperation was mounting.
A baby for a hundred million dollars? Bella's mind screamed in silent fury. She had barely begun her real life—her own life—and now this?
F*** you, Miracle! After making me suffer, paying your debts, stealing my identity—and now this? My body, my dignity, you've drained every drop out of me, Miracle.
I swear, in hell and heaven, if I ever see you again, I will end you.