Chapter 2

The clock struck nine when Alexander and Sophia finally arrived home.

Sophia dragged her feet, clutching the edge of Alexander's coat as she stepped out of the car. The thought of Isabella being inside made her reluctant to enter.

But Victoria had insisted—Isabella had come specifically to see them. If they didn’t return, she’d be heartbroken. Alexander had also pointed out that if they skipped tonight, Isabella might insist on joining their beach trip tomorrow.

With a sigh, Sophia gave in.

Still uneasy, she muttered under her breath, "Dad, what if Mom forces her way into our plans tomorrow?"

"She won’t," Alexander replied without hesitation.

In all their years of marriage, Isabella had always bent over backward to please him. She knew better than to push his boundaries. One firm word from him, and she’d back down.

Sophia relaxed. If Alexander said it wouldn’t happen, then it wouldn’t. Her mood lifted instantly. She skipped inside, announcing to Margaret, "I want to take a bath!"

"Of course, Miss Whitmore," Margaret replied. Then, remembering Isabella’s instructions, she handed Alexander an envelope. "Mr. Whitmore, Mrs. Whitmore left this for you."

Alexander took it absently. "Where is she?"

"She packed her things and returned to Salzburg this afternoon. Didn’t you know?" Margaret answered.

Alexander paused mid-step on the staircase. He turned, brows lifting slightly. "She left?"

"Yes."

Why would Isabella suddenly go back to Salzburg? He hadn’t given her a chance to explain, nor had he cared to ask. The news barely registered before he dismissed it.

Sophia blinked in surprise. A flicker of disappointment passed through her. She’d secretly hoped Isabella would at least be home when they returned—maybe help her finish polishing the seashells she’d collected.

Margaret hesitated, recalling Isabella’s tense expression. "Mr. Whitmore… Mrs. Whitmore seemed upset when she left. Almost angry."

"Angry?" The word echoed in Alexander’s mind.

Isabella had never shown anger toward him before. The idea was almost amusing. He smirked and brushed off Margaret’s concern before continuing upstairs.

In his room, he barely glanced at the envelope before tossing it aside when Victoria called. He left without another thought.

Hours later, the envelope slipped off the bed, forgotten on the floor.

Alexander didn’t return that night.

The next morning, Margaret found the envelope while cleaning. Assuming Alexander had already read it, she tucked it into a drawer.

Meanwhile, Isabella had arrived home and begun packing. After six years in this house, she had accumulated plenty—but she took only essentials: clothes, toiletries, and a few cherished books from her college days.

Alexander had always deposited money into separate accounts for her and Sophia. She’d never touched Sophia’s funds, but her own account had been drained over the years—not on herself, but on Alexander and Sophia. Clothes, gifts, anything to make them happy.

But lately, with them away, her spending had dwindled. Now, her account held over three million dollars.

A fortune to her, pocket change to Alexander.

She transferred every cent without hesitation, left both cards behind, and walked out without looking back.

Her apartment—bought years ago to help a struggling friend—was small but pristine. After a quick cleanup, it was ready.

Exhausted, she collapsed into bed by five.

Then, at 1:00 AM, an alarm blared.

Her heart lurched. For a disoriented moment, she didn’t understand why.

Then it hit her.

Seven AM in Salzburg. Breakfast time.

For months, she’d set this alarm to call Sophia. At first, Sophia had clung to her, homesick. But lately, the calls had grown shorter, colder.

The alarm wasn’t needed anymore.

With a bitter smile, Isabella deleted it and shut off her phone.

Meanwhile, Alexander and Sophia were finishing breakfast. He barely registered the absence of Isabella’s usual call.

Sophia, however, was thrilled. No call meant no forced conversation. She bolted for the door before Margaret could stop her.

"Ms. Whitmore, it’s early—"

But Sophia was already in the car, grinning.

The next morning, Isabella arrived at work and handed her resignation to Benjamin Hayes.

"I’m done."