Chapter 417
Isabella dodged his advance with practiced ease, stepping back to create distance.
Alexander froze, his expression crumbling. A bitter laugh escaped his lips. “I know you despise me. Denying my blame would be a lie. Today, I kept thinking…if I could turn back time, if I had another chance, everything would be different now. But it’s still not too late.”
He dropped to one knee, pulling a velvet ring box from his pocket. The diamond inside caught the light, glittering coldly.
“Marry me, Isabella. I’ll agree to any condition. Testify against Victoria? I’ll do it. A prenuptial agreement? We’ll sign one immediately. Just say yes.”
His words were slurred from alcohol, but his eyes held a desperate, sober intensity. This was his only path to redemption, the sole way to erase years of regret. He was certain she would accept.
Isabella’s gaze was pure ice. She looked down at him as if he were something foul stuck to her shoe. “The great Alexander Whitmore, on his knees for me? Weren’t you the one who swore you’d never want me, even if I were royalty?”
The memory of those cruel words, spoken five years ago, hit him like a physical blow. Victoria had poisoned his mind back then. He’d been blind to the truth, blind to the fact that Victoria had forced Isabella to hide her beauty.
“I was a fool,” he choked out, a sob catching in his throat. “Blind and stupid. You can hate me. You can punish me.”
A harsh, mocking laugh tore from her lips. “You think this pathetic display is sincere? You believe it moves me? You’re nothing but a drunken fool, a pathetic cuckold who got what he deserved! Do you even love me? If I’d returned from Africa looking the same, without the diamond mine, without this fame…would you be here? Would you be kneeling?”
The hand holding the ring trembled violently.
She leaned closer, her voice a venomous whisper. “You don’t love me. You love the glamorous illusion. You miss the woman who truly loved you, the one you kicked down a flight of stairs. This version of me will never be yours.”
In one swift, brutal motion, she raised her leg and drove her heel into his chest.
The force was immense, echoing the violence he’d once inflicted on her.
Thud!
He crashed to the floor, the ring skittering away into the shadows.
Isabella didn’t even flinch. She stepped over him, her posture regal and utterly cold.
As she reached for the door, he scrambled up. Drunk and enraged, he lunged, grabbing her arm and slamming her against the wall. His fingers dug into her shoulders.
“You’re not mine, so you belong to Nathaniel?!” he roared, his eyes bloodshot. “You think he actually wants you? He’s playing with you! He’ll discard you! I don’t care that you’ve been with him! I don’t even care about the child! What right do you have to reject me? What right?!”
He shook her violently. Her back slammed into the unyielding wall, pain radiating through her. The world spun from the force of his rage.
It took her a moment to focus. Her eyes met his, filled with a contempt so deep it was paralyzing.
He had ignored her at their engagement party. He had slept with Victoria that very night.
Why this desperate begging now?