Chapter 8

• Isabella's POV
• The letter trembled in my hands.
• "He didn't fall. He was pushed. Just like your father."
• "Don't trust anyone. Not even the ones who say they love you."
• I stared at the words so long they began to blur, ink running into ink, like spilled secrets bleeding across the page.
• Someone knew. Someone was watching me. Worse, someone was playing me.
• But who?
• Alex? No — this wasn't his voice. This wasn't his style. He threatened in person. Blunt. Loud. Brutal. Not like this. This was careful. Calculated. Dangerous.
• I turned the envelope over again. No return address. No markings. No prints. Whoever sent it had planned this carefully.
• A knock on the door jolted me out of my thoughts.
• I stuffed the letter under my pillow just as Nathaniel walked in, hair damp from the shower, shirt sleeves rolled up, phone in hand.
• "Hey," he said softly, as if measuring my mood. "You alright?"
• I nodded. "Just tired."
• "Yeah," he sighed. "Me too."
• His phone buzzed in his hand. He glanced at it, sighed again, then sat on the edge of the bed beside me.
• "What's wrong?" I asked, hoping my voice didn't shake.
• He hesitated. "The court hearing."
• I blinked. "What hearing?"
• "My ex-mother-in-law. Her lawyers filed an emergency request. They want a judge to consider removing the girls from my custody until the case is resolved."
• The room dropped several degrees.
• "They want to take them now?" I whispered.
• He nodded. "I have until Friday to respond. They're claiming my remarriage was 'reckless' and that you—" he looked at me, hurt flashing in his eyes, "—aren't fit to be their mother."
• "She's insane. She has no idea how much you love them—how much we do."
• He shook his head. "They don't care about that. They care about perception. Headlines. And she has money to make any story look true."
• My stomach churned.
• This wasn't part of the plan. I never thought I'd be the reason those girls might be taken away from the only real parent they had left.
• "What can we do?" I asked.
• "I've already got my lawyer drafting a response," he said. "But I need to show that this marriage is strong. That you're not just some woman I brought in out of desperation."
• I swallowed hard. "So... what? We pretend harder?"
• He met my eyes. "No. We be stronger."
• My breath caught in my throat. This wasn't just a game to him anymore.
• And if I wasn't careful, it wouldn't be to me either.
• The next morning, the mansion buzzed with more tension than usual.
• Emily and Natasha were unusually quiet at breakfast. Natasha picked at her waffles, and Emily clung to her teddy bear like it held the answer to everything.
• Nathaniel, seated at the head of the table, kept checking his phone.
• "They know something's wrong," I said to him under my breath.
• He nodded. "Their grandmother called last night. Told them she'd be seeing them 'very soon.'"
• My stomach turned.
• "I don't want them confused, Jenna," he said. "I need them grounded. Safe. Loved."
• "I can do that," I replied quietly. "I want to do that."
• His eyes softened. "Then maybe we should make it official."
• I blinked. "What do you mean?"
• "A second wedding. A real one. Public. Legal. No contract."
• My heart slammed into my ribs.
• He was serious.
• "People would see it as legitimate," he continued. "It'll shut her down in court. And the girls... they'd feel secure. Like everything is finally real."
• I opened my mouth. Closed it again.
• "Nathaniel, I—"
• The sound of a door slamming made us both turn.
• Henry appeared at the edge of the dining room, his expression tight.
• "Sorry to interrupt," he said, voice low. "We have a problem."
• Nathaniel stood. "What is it?"
• "There was an incident outside the courthouse this morning. Someone tried to follow one of our paralegals. We believe it was someone from your ex's legal team. Or Alex's."
• I stood too. "Why would Alex care about the custody case?"
• Henry looked at me carefully. "Because if the children are removed from this house, it creates instability. Alex thrives on instability. It gives him room to act."
• "Act, how?" Nathaniel asked, jaw clenched.
• Henry didn't answer. He just handed over a flash drive.
• "This was mailed to the house. No return address."
• Another anonymous delivery.
• Another warning.
• Nathaniel took it and motioned for us to go to his study.
• I followed, heart pounding, wondering if the message inside would destroy everything — or save it.
• The screen came alive as the video loaded. The footage was grainy, shot from a distance, but the image was clear enough.
• Davis Blackwood — walking beside the pool.
• And then a figure — blurry, hard to make out — darting behind him.
• A shove.
• Davis tumbling into the water.
• Nathaniel leaned forward. "Pause it."
• The figure was cloaked. Unrecognizable.
• He stared at the screen for a long moment, eyes narrowed.
• "…That's not Jenna," he said finally, quieter than before.
• I didn't breathe.
• His voice wasn't exactly relieved. It was measured. Too careful. As if he needed to say it — not just to me, but to himself.
• "But someone used our plan," I said softly. "Someone knew."
• He turned toward me, gaze sharper now. "What plan?"
• I froze.
• Damn it.
• "What do you mean?" he asked again, slower this time. Less curious. More calculating.
• I scrambled. "I mean... I heard Sophie joking about it. Before the party. About pushing Davis as a prank. I didn't think anything of it."
• He studied me then — too closely. Like he was mentally filing the moment away.
• "I need to know I can trust you, Jenna."
• I forced a smile. "You can."
• But even as I said it, I could feel the quiet shift in him.
• He was watching me differently now.
• Not just as the woman he cared about…
• …but as someone who might not be telling the whole truth.
• That night, another envelope appeared. Same ink. Same smell.
• I waited until I was alone in the bathroom to open it.
• Inside, a single line:
• "You're not the only one pretending."
• I gripped the edge of the sink to stay upright.
• Someone was watching me.
• Someone knew what I was doing.
• And they were getting closer.