Chapter 120

Sarah's POV

I woke up to the smell of coffee brewing. For a moment, I thought Zara was up early, trying to impress me with breakfast.

But as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and padded down the stairs, the feeling of unease settled deep in my chest. The house was quiet-too quiet.

When I walked into the kitchen, the scene stopped me in my tracks. Isabelle stood by the counter, her back to me, gripping a knife.

She wasn't chopping vegetables or anything remotely domestic. She just stood there, the knife gleaming under the morning light. "Good morning," she said, her voice calm, almost cheerful.

My heart thudded painfully in my chest. "Isabelle?" I took a cautious step forward.

She turned slowly, and the smile on her face chilled me to the bone. "You're up early. Couldn't sleep?"

My eyes flicked to the knife in her hand. "What are you doing?"

Her smile faltered, and her grip on the knife tightened. "Thinking," she said. "About everything. About what's fair and what's not."

"Fair?" I echoed, trying to keep my tone light.

Her eyes flashed. "Yes, Sarah. Fair. Like how unfair it is that you came into Richard's life and ruined everything."

I swallowed hard, my palms sweating. "Isabelle, why don't you put the knife down? We can talk."

"Oh, we're talking," she said, her voice sharp. "I just want to make sure you hear me. Because you never listen, do you? You think you can have it all. Richard, the house, the perfect little life." She took a step closer, and I instinctively stepped back.

"I didn't take anything from you, Isabelle," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Richard was never yours."

Her face twisted in rage. "You liar! He was mine before you even existed in his world. You stole him, just like you're trying to steal everything else!"

"Sarah?" Zara's voice called from the hallway.

of this!" Isabelle snapped,

appeared in the doorway, her eyes widening at the sight of the knife. She quickly masked her shock with

Why don't we all take a deep breath? It's too early for drama, don't

at me. "You need to leave, Sarah. Leave Richard and never come

my hands, my voice soft. "Isabelle, I'm not going

deserve him. He was supposed to be mine. You've ruined

reached for her phone behind her back, her fingers moving swiftly. I kept my focus on Isabelle, praying

or Richard. This is about you. You're hurting, and I get that, but this isn't

of pain. "You don't get it. You've never lost someone like I have. You don't know

right. I don't know what that's like. But I do know that hurting me won't bring

I'd gotten through to her. But then her grip on the knife tightened, and she glared at me with renewed fury. "You don't

Richard's POV

the study when

need to get to the kitchen. Now," she whispered

wrong?" I asked,

she's losing it. Sarah's in

didn't wait for Martins to respond. I sprinted down the hall, my

me in place. Isabelle stood inches from Sarah, the knife

into

her

face pale. "Uh, this looks bad,"

of this, Martins,"

forward, keeping my hands raised. "Isabelle, listen to me. This isn't you. You're not like

don't understand, Richard. She's ruined everything! I had you, and she

Sarah, who stood frozen, her face pale but determined. "Isabelle, I was never yours,"

David, and David was mine. You're supposed

another step closer to Isabelle, my voice firm. "David is gone, Isabelle. I'm not him, and I never was. You need to let

her head, her sobs growing louder.

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