Chapter 1
The clock had just struck nine when Isabella Sinclair's plane touched down in Salzburg.
It was her birthday.
As she switched on her phone, notifications flooded inโmessages from colleagues, friends, even distant relatives.
But not a single one from her husband, Alexander Whitmore.
Her smile vanished.
By the time she reached the villa, it was past ten.
Margaret Dawson, the housekeeper, startled at the sight of her. "Mrs. Whitmore! You're here?"
"Where are Alexander and Sophia?" Isabella asked.
"Mr. Whitmore hasn't returned yet," Margaret replied. "And Miss Whitmore is in her room, playing."
Isabella handed off her luggage and climbed the stairs.
Sophia sat at her desk, absorbed in something, her small fingers working meticulously. She didnโt even glance up when the door opened.
"Sophia?"
The little girl turned, brightening. "Mom!"
Then she immediately went back to her task.
Isabella pulled her into a hug, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Sophia squirmed away.
"Mom, I'm busy."
It had been two months since Isabella last saw her daughter. The ache of missing her was unbearable. She wanted to talk, to hold her, to soak in every second.
But Sophiaโs focus was unshakable.
"What are you making, sweetheart?"
"A shell necklace!" Sophia beamed, suddenly animated. "Victoriaโs birthday is next week. Dad and I are making this for her. We polished every shellโarenโt they pretty?"
Isabellaโs throat tightened.
Before she could speak, Sophia added, "Dad even got her a special custom gift. Tomorrowโ"
A sharp pain lanced through Isabellaโs chest.
"Sophia," she interrupted softly. "Do you know what today is?"
Sophia barely glanced up. "Huh? Mom, stop talking. Youโre messing up my orderโ"
Isabella let go.
She stood there, waiting, but Sophia never looked back.
Finally, Isabella left without another word.
Downstairs, Margaret approached. "I called Mr. Whitmore. He said heโs busy tonight and asked you to rest."
Isabella nodded numbly.
Her fingers hovered over her phone. She dialed Alexander.
It rang endlessly before he answered, his voice indifferent. "Iโm busy. Weโll talk tomorrow."
"Alexander, who is it?" Victoria Kensingtonโs voice cut in.
Isabellaโs grip on the phone turned white-knuckled.
"Nothing important," Alexander replied.
The line went dead.
They hadnโt seen each other in months. Sheโd flown across the world, and he couldnโt spare five minutes.
This was their marriageโcold, distant, an afterthought.
She used to call again. Used to beg him to come home.
Not tonight.
The next morning, she tried once more.
Today was her actual birthday here.
She didnโt come just to see them. Sheโd hoped for one meal together. One moment where they felt like a family.
Alexander didnโt pick up.
A text arrived later: What is it?
Lunch today? All three of us? she typed.
Fine. Send the address.
No Happy Birthday. No acknowledgment.
She dressed mechanically, pausing at Sophiaโs laughter drifting up the stairs.
"Arenโt you happy Mrs. Whitmore is here?" Margaret asked.
Sophiaโs voice was light. "Dad and I promised Victoria weโd take her to the beach tomorrow. If Mom comes, itโll be awkward. And sheโs always so mean to Victoriaโ"
"Miss Whitmore, thatโs your mother."
"I know. But Dad and I like Victoria more. Why canโt she be my mom instead?"
Isabellaโs legs gave out.
Sheโd raised Sophia alone for years. Then Alexander took her abroad, and nowโ
Her daughter wished for another mother.
She repacked the gifts sheโd brought.
When Margaret took Sophia out, Isabella wandered the city, hollow.
At noon, Alexander canceled. Something came up.
Of course.
She ended up outside The Grandeur, their old favorite restaurant.
And there they wereโAlexander, Victoria, Sophia.
Victoria fed Sophia bites of her dessert. Alexander smiled at them like they were his entire world.
This was his something came up.
Her daughter. Her husband. Another woman.
Isabella turned away.
Back at the villa, she drafted divorce papers.
Alexander had been her dream since she was sixteen.
But dreams werenโt real.
She left the envelope with Margaret.
"To the airport," she told the driver.
The car pulled away.
She didnโt look back.