In my past life, I believed compromise could be traded for love. That if I endured enough, cared enough, I could eventually warm Bella's heart.
I was wrong.
It wasn't until moments before my death that I learned the truth: Bella had never stopped thinking about John. She refused to believe he would ever harm our son. The way she treated me—ordering me around like a dog, stripping me of my dignity—wasn't indifference. It was deliberate revenge.
Slap!
My head snapped to the side. Julian stood over me, chest heaving. "You piece of trash! Why haven't you called Bella yet?"
I touched my cheek, feeling the heat rise. "I called. I sent messages. She isn't responding."
"Impossible!" My mother-in-law scoffed. "Bella isn't heartless like you. That's her own son—how could she possibly not care? You're lying."
Julian's glare said he agreed.
Without a word, I unlocked my phone and held the screen up. A wall of red—dozens of outgoing calls, unread WeChat messages, ignored texts. The timestamps proved I'd been trying for hours.
Julian studied the screen, then the welt forming on my face. Guilt flickered in his eyes. He lowered his hand. "What exactly is she busy with? She keeps her phone on loud twenty-four hours a day. She never misses a call."
My mother-in-law wasn't convinced. "You must have done something to upset her. That's why she isn't answering." She let out a sharp breath. "Letting you marry into our family was a curse. If it weren't for you, my grandson wouldn't have been taken."
Every word an accusation.
Right, I thought bitterly. Because back then, it wasn't Bella who begged me to marry her.
Bzz bzz!
Bella was finally calling back.
My in-laws' spirits lifted instantly. "Answer it! Hurry!"
I tapped speaker. But the voice that drifted out wasn't hers.
"Bella's in the shower." A man's voice, dripping with arrogance. "What do you want?"
John.
The color drained from Julian and his wife's faces. They had no idea Bella was still in contact with him, let alone with him at this hour.
"Tell my wife our son has been kidnapped!" I shouted, feigning panic. "They want three million dollars!"
"Is that so?" John sounded bored. We heard fabric rustle, then a door opening.
"Hey!" Bella's voice came through, high-pitched and playful. "How can you just walk in while I'm showering? Get out, you pervert—you almost saw everything!"
Feigned modesty. Flirtation.
"Don't blame me," John said smoothly. "Aaron called. He insists Frankie's been kidnapped."
The intimacy was unmistakable.
Julian and his wife exchanged looks. They'd always believed their daughter was aloof, reserved. A workaholic. They never imagined she'd use work as an excuse to tryst with a man they despised.
Shuffling sounds. Bella snatched the phone. Her playful tone vanished, replaced by ice.
"Aaron Pruitt, have you lost your mind? Calling me in the middle of the night with this garbage?" she hissed. "Don't you know how busy I am with work?"
No pause. No breath.
"You narrow-minded, jealous little man. Using our son's life to lie, just to trick me into coming home? Pathetic!"
She thought Frankie had secretly come to find her and John. In her delusion, she probably imagined the three of them running away together. She couldn't fathom our son was actually in danger. To her, this was just another one of my tricks.
"I'm not lying," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Frankie was taken. Mom and Dad are right here—ask them."
I shoved the phone into Julian's trembling hand.
"Bella!" He barked, suppressing his anger at her infidelity to focus on the crisis. "The kidnappers said if we don't come up with three million by five in the morning, they'll kill him! Even if you don't come back, authorize the transfer!"
Silence. Then a scoff.
"Dad, don't be fooled by Aaron." Condescension dripped from every syllable. "Frankie just finished his exams—he's probably out partying. This is just Aaron trying to scam the family so he can run off with the money."
