Chapter 7 - The Confrontation
The video stopped.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Marcus stared at the black screen of the laptop. The man who had spent three years carrying the crushing weight of grief, the man who had paid off David’s debts, supported his "grieving widow," and built a legacy to honor his memory, looked as if his entire soul had been pulverized.
Slowly, Marcus turned around to face Isabella.
She was trembling violently now, backed into the corner, tears finally streaming down her face—not fake tears of manipulation, but the frantic, ugly tears of absolute ruin.
"He's alive," Marcus said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "David is alive."
"Marcus... please," Isabella sobbed, holding her hands up defensively. "He forced me! He threatened me! If I didn't help him, he said he would kill me too!"
"You put poison in my wife's IV," Marcus said, taking a slow step toward her. "You put your heel on my child. You talked about breaking me like I was an animal to be slaughtered."
"It was David's idea! All of it!" she shrieked, her composure completely shattered. "He's living in Saint Martin! He has a villa under the name Thomas Drake! He's the one who wanted the money! Please, Marcus, I can help you catch him!"
"You're not helping anyone," Detective Miller said sternly, pulling a pair of heavy steel handcuffs from his belt. "Isabella Vance, you are under arrest for attempted murder, conspiracy to commit murder, and fraud."
As Miller stepped forward and grabbed her wrists, snapping the cuffs in place, Isabella looked at me. Her eyes were wide with a desperate, pathetic plea.
"Khloe! Tell him! Tell him I stopped! I didn't push the rest of the syringe!" she begged as the guards dragged her toward the door. "Khloe, please!"
I looked at her, my hand resting over my abdomen, feeling the soft, faint flutter of my baby moving inside me.
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"You didn't stop, Isabella," I said softly, my voice filled with a cold certainty she had never heard from me before. "The camera just saw what you really are."
The guards pulled her out into the hallway, her high heels dragging against the floor, her frantic screams fading down the corridor until the heavy doors swung shut.
