Chapter 16: Disbelief
The whole room just went dead silent.
After Isabella said those three words, all the air got sucked right out of the place. Everyone remained frozen, staring up at the stage like they couldn’t believe their own ears.
Kian let out a quiet, dry laugh.
It started like a little shake in his chest, then turned into a raspy chuckle that cut right through the quiet.
He raised both hands, pulling his palms hard down his face, rubbing his eyes until the skin turned red.
He shook his head slow, looking at the floor, then back at Isabella like he’d just heard a kid tell some stupid joke.
It was the only thing his brain could do. What she said was so out of left field, so completely impossible in the world he built, that his mind just refused to take it in.
Standing by the edge of the stairs, Aaron watched him with a slow, small grin pulling at his mouth. He took another long drag of his cigar, letting the smoke drift up into the stage lights.
He loved every second of it. Watching cold, arrogant Kian Carter break down under his own wife’s words was better than winning any war.
"Well," Aaron said, his raspy voice breaking the silence. "You heard her, Carter. She wants out. Hand her over."
That quiet laugh died right in Kian’s throat.
The confused look vanished off his face in a second, replaced by pure ice. He dropped his hands.
He didn’t yell or throw a fit in front of the press. He stood up straight, brushed a piece of dust off his suit jacket, and locked his eyes on Aaron with a flat, deadly look.
"Shut up," Kian said. It wasn’t loud, but it had this nasty, heavy weight to it that made the security guys step back. "You don’t get a say in this. You’re nobody here."
Aaron raised an eyebrow, not bothered at all, keeping his hands stuffed in his coat pockets.
Kian turned away from him, looking out over the crowded room. Hundreds of eyes were glued to him, phones shining everywhere.
"Party’s over," Kian called out, his voice cold and flat, ringing across the hall. "Everyone get out. Now."
Nobody moved at first, but Kian glared at the front rows with such pure anger that the staff started rushing people toward the heavy doors.
Whispers broke out everywhere like a storm while people scrambled for their coats, reporters already running for the exit to send the clip to every news station in the country.
Kian turned his cold eyes back to Aaron. "As for you, get out of my sight. Whatever happens next is between me and my wife."
Aaron didn’t back off. He tilted his head, looking past Kian’s shoulder at Isabella, who was standing there frozen in her pink dress, her small hands balled up tight in front of her.
"I don’t like leaving her here with you, Kian," Aaron said soft, his voice turning low and protective. "What if you lay a hand on her?"
Kian’s jaw clenched, a twitch popping under his skin. "I’d never hurt my wife," he snapped, every word hard as iron. "Get out. Before my men drag you out."
Aaron ignored him completely, stepping closer to the edge of the stage. "Isabella," he called out, his voice softening up. "You want to go with him? Say the word, and I’ll get you out of here right now."
Isabella’s breath stuck in her throat.
She could feel Kian’s eyes burning into the side of her face like a weight. Her mind was spinning. If she told Aaron to take her, a real fight was gonna break out right here on the floor.
Both of them were dangerous, both had power, and they hated each other to the bone. Blood would spill, and the mess would ruin any chance she had at getting away clean.
She swallowed hard, forcing her shaky voice to hold steady.
"I’ll be fine, Mr. Kazarov," she said, small but clear enough for him to hear. "It’s... we need to settle this ourselves. Nicely."
Aaron stared at her for a long, quiet second. He hated it. His hands flexed inside his pockets, dying to reach out and pull her off that stage.
But he saw the look on her pale face, and he knew pushing it right now would only make things worse for her.
"Fine," Aaron said quiet, his eyes darkening as he shot one last look at Kian. "I’m watching close, Isabella. Very close."
Before Aaron could say anything else, Kian reached out and grabbed Isabella by the arm.
His grip was tight, almost painful, as he turned her around and dragged her toward the back door behind the stage, completely ignoring the reporters hanging around the side.
The drive back to the house was dead silent and miserable.
Inside the black car, the air felt heavy and freezing cold. Kian sat on the leather seat across from her, staring without even blinking. His hands were clenched into tight fists on his knees, knuckles white.
Right beside him, his phone kept buzzing with calls from his PR team, but he didn’t even glance at the screen. His head was spinning in wild, messy circles.
He was trained for this kind of stuff. Before he ever put on a expensive suit or took over the family business, he’d spent years in the dark, dealing with blood and cold facts.
He knew how to read people. He knew a trap when he saw one. But sitting across from his blind wife right now, nothing made any damn sense.
’How could she cheat on me?’ he thought, his chest rising and falling fast. ’With Aaron? Right under my nose?’
It sounded stupid. He managed her whole life. He picked her guards. He knew every single place she went. Every time he tried to make the pieces fit, his brain kicked it out. It had to be a lie. It had to be some sick game Aaron was playing, using Isabella to embarrass him in front of everyone.
And yet, every time he remembered that faint little mark on her neck, or the way she flinched away whenever he tried to kiss her these past few weeks, this sharp, ice-cold doubt jabbed right into his chest.
He let out another short, bitter laugh into the dark car, leaning his head against his fist.
It was impossible. She loved him. She literally told him she loved him. She was gentle, quiet, and needed him for everything. She couldn’t pull off an affair with a guy like Kazarov if she tried.
A couple cars behind them, Alice sat in the back seat, staring out the window at the red lights of Kian’s car. A small, nasty smile stayed stuck on her face. To her this was completely unexpected and she couldn’t tell if she loved or hated it.
The car finally pulled up to the front steps of the house.
The second it stopped, Kian threw his door open, stepped out, and reached back in to grab Isabella’s arm. He didn’t even wait for her to get her footing. He pulled her out onto the gravel and dragged her fast up the wide steps.
"Kian... please, slow down," Isabella gasped, her heels catching on the smooth stone as she tried to keep up with his long, angry strides.
He didn’t say a word. He dragged her through the front doors, walking right past the two maids standing in the hall, including Aria. The staff looked terrified, feeling the terrible mood coming off him, but Kian didn’t even look at them.