Chapter 140
**ISABELLA**
**What the hell!**
I nearly said it out loud. The words rose to the back of my throat like a reflex—sharp and indignant.
I can’t accept this.
But then—just as quickly—a thought struck me. Fast. Ruthless.
What if the contract fails?
What if this entire arrangement—this beautiful, delicate fabrication—crumbles before the week is over? Then... what? I could sell these gowns, couldn’t I? Pawn off the jewelry? Liquidate the illusion and use the money to carve out a better life. Not for me, maybe, but for Matt and Caroline. A life where they wouldn’t have to scrape and scramble just to feel normal. A safe landing for them when they fall.
The idea made a thin thread of sense. But still—this was too much. Too extravagant. Too overwhelming.
“Miss, please. This way,” Elena said, her tone cheerful, professional. “There’s one last showroom for you to check out.”
“Oh. Yes.” I forced a smile, nodding politely as I followed her, but my mind was splintered. Pulled elsewhere.
I found myself wishing—aching—for Levi to be by my side. Not sunk into the lounge, glued to his phone like none of this mattered. Like I didn’t matter.
Isn’t he overreacting just a bit? I mean, it’s not like what I did really affected him. No fallout, no scandal, no digital trail. I’d searched the internet—scoured it. There was nothing. It was like my stunt had left no trace. Not publicly, at least.
So...
And then, with venomous timing, another thought slid in.
What if he’s texting someone else?
Jealousy and fear surged through me, swift and merciless, tightening my chest until I could barely get air into my lungs. I struggled to breathe, to think. A quiet voice inside me whispered the truth I didn’t want to hear:
You can’t be with him… but you can’t let him go either, Isabella.
But the thing is, no matter the chaos inside us, the world outside doesn’t stop. And so I let myself be ushered into a private fitting room by Elena and her two assistants, blissfully unaware that I was a whisper away from breaking down.
This showroom was smaller, more intimate. The lighting was soft and golden, shadows blurring the corners of the wall. A faint scent of vanilla and rose hung in the air, delicate and intentional.
And then I saw them.
Two gowns, hidden in glass, each already paired with glittering jewelry displayed in cases beneath them.
The first was a red gown—simple, but devastating. A corseted bodice wrapped in sheer lace, the kind that would cinch tight against my waist, molding me into something statuesque. Powerful. Desired.
If I wore that gown, I was sure I’d be the center of attention. And I think that’s what Levi wanted—to show me off at the engagement party like I was some kind of prize. Not that I was complaining. Truthfully, the thought made heat rise to my cheeks in a rush of excitement.
The second gown stole the breath from my lungs.
A wedding dress.
It was the most beautiful gown I had ever seen. Diamond embroidery shimmered across the bodice like stars stitched into silk. The neckline was sculpted to cradle the curves of my breasts—elegant, never vulgar. It flared into a full ballgown, the fabric so ethereal it didn’t move—it drifted. A long, embroidered veil trailed behind like mist unfurling across marble. The entire gown flowed like a cloud—weightless, impossible, breathtaking.
The illusion was complete. In that dress, I wouldn’t walk. I would glide. No—float.
And the jewelry—God, the jewelry. For the engagement: a diamond necklace and matching earrings, flawless and cold, sharp in their brilliance. For the wedding: green emeralds set in gold, rich and unapologetically regal. Each piece a declaration. A promise. A warning.
I stood there for five long minutes, silent, unmoving. Just looking. Staring at the engagement gown, the wedding gown, the jewels. Drowning in the opulence of a love story that wasn’t even real.
This was a fake marriage. A performance. But Levi was pulling every string, burning every resource, like he meant it. Like this wasn’t make-believe.
And that terrified me.
Then I turned toward the mirror.
And everything stopped.
I didn’t see a lie. I didn’t see a contract.
I saw a bride.
A real one.
And just as my chest began to rise with the weight of it all, I felt him.
Levi.
Standing behind me. Close. Close enough that I could feel the warmth of his breath.
His presence settled over me like a shadow I hadn’t noticed until it was too late.
Watching.
For one suspended heartbeat, I let myself believe. I let myself fall into the illusion of being chosen. Loved. Wanted.
“Give us a minute,” he said.
His voice was low. Commanding.
The assistants left without a word, closing the door behind them. Silence dropped at once.
I turned to face him.
“I thought you were never going to speak to me,” I said quietly, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice.
He didn’t answer. He just stood there, looking at me. Not just at the dress—but at me. My face. My mouth. My eyes.
My heart pounded so loudly I was sure he could hear it.
“Look, if you’re not going to talk to me, then why are you here, huh?” I burst out, frustrated, breathless.
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