Chapter 229

~Bella~

I paced the length of the darkened living room, the plush carpet soft beneath my bare feet. The heavy drapes were drawn tight, blocking out the harsh sun outside. I liked the dark. It suited me. It gave me the room I needed to breathe, to think, and to map out the ruin of those who thought they had destroyed me.

I stopped in front of the mirror hanging in the hallway, staring at my reflection. I looked thin and unhealthy. I had to turn myself to this for now, I had a plan in mind and my current state was going to make it believable.

With a slow, calculated smirk, I popped two prenatal vitamins into my mouth and washed them down with a sip of bottled water.

My hand dropped to my lower abdomen, smoothing over the faint, almost imperceptible curve beneath my silk robe.

"You are my absolute masterpiece baby," I whispered to the quiet room, my eyes locking onto my own glittering reflection.

This baby wasn’t just a child; it was the ultimate, infallible weapon. Once I stepped back into the light, this little life would legally bind Franklin Flemington to me forever. I didn’t just want him back, I wanted to completely, legally bankrupt him.

I would drag him through the mud with endless, brutal custody wars, demands for astronomical child support, and calculated public scandals that would make the front page of every tabloid in the country.

By the time I was finished playing the victim, the Flemington name would be synonymous with my suffering, and Octavia would be violently pushed out of the picture entirely, discarded like the insignificant rebound she was.

An hour later, I was sitting in the examination room of a private, low-profile clinic on the outskirts of the city. Getting out in public required precision, but Roderigo had handled the details perfectly. He had also chosen this specific hospital for me.

I wore a heavy brunette wig that completely altered my silhouette, dark oversized sunglasses, and walked in under a bulletproof forged identity of Charlotte, a single mother. To the staff here, I was just a wealthy, reclusive out-of-towner paying in cash and my husband is dead.

Makes me remember the sob story I created for the doctor when she asked about the father of the child.

The cold gel on my stomach made me flinch slightly, but as the doctor moved the transducer, the rhythmic, rapid sound of a heartbeat filled the room.

"Everything looks perfectly healthy, Ms. Charlotte," the OBGYN smiled, pointing at the gray, flickering screen. "The development is right on track for the first trimester. Strong heartbeat, excellent positioning."

I stared at the screen, a dark sense of triumph washing over me. Perfect. It was healthy, vibrant, and ready to be weaponized.

By the time I returned to the safe house and shed the disguise, the sleek burner phone resting on the console table buzzed, a sharp chime cutting through the silence.

I picked it up. An encrypted audio file had just been forwarded to me from Miranda. My fingers flew across the screen, downloading the file and pressing it to my ear.

Octavia’s voice filled the room. She sounded broken. Weak. A dry, breathless sob echoed from the speaker. "It’s Franklin... He’s completely changed... He’s been secretly meeting with a high-profile divorce lawyer downtown... He only married me out of sheer guilt after the accident. He doesn’t love me."

The audio cut out.

I threw my head back, a sharp, triumphant laugh tearing from my throat. It was music to my ears. The psychological pressure, the subtle hints, the weight of the past, it had finally cracked them. Franklin was finally waking up to his massive mistake. He was realizing, just as I always knew he would, that he had chosen the wrong woman.

I couldn’t stay hidden in this godforsaken house anymore. Watching the fallout from a distance was no longer enough. I needed to be there to witness Octavia’s final humiliation in person, and I needed to be the one Franklin turned to when the dust settled.

I quickly dialed Miranda back, my voice dripping with an icy, commanding authority the moment she picked up.

"Miranda. Get everything prepared," I ordered, not even giving her a chance to greet me. "In exactly two days, I am coming back. I will be entering New York freely, and no one will have any idea what happened or how I did it. I am returning to reclaim what is rightfully mine."

"Hmm what did you do Bella. You know what, I’ll have everything ready, let’s talk later." Miranda whispered tightly before the line went dead.

Soon I was going to trash Miranda too, but now, she was useful for me and everything I want to carry out.

My heart hammered with an exhilarating rush of adrenaline. It was time for the final piece of the puzzle. I scrolled through my contacts, selecting a heavily encrypted, untraceable number that connected directly to a burner phone across state lines.

The phone rang twice before a deep, steady voice answered. Roderigo.

"Is it done?" I asked, speaking in a strict, carefully constructed code to ensure our arrangement remained buried in the shadows. "Has the package been cleared through customs? Is the registration entirely finalized?"

On the other end of the line, Roderigo let out a low, confident chuckle. His tone was completely unreadable to anyone who might be listening in.

"Yes," Roderigo replied smoothly, his voice laced with dark satisfaction. "It is completely done. The slate is clean, and the path is clear for your arrival. It was good working with you Bella."

"Thak you Rufus." I said.

"My pleasure." He said and cut the call.

A vicious, beautiful smile spread across my face as I hung up the phone. They thought I was an ex-convict who would spend the rest of her life running from the law. They had no idea the trap that was about to spring. I was going to walk right back into Manhattan high society as the ultimate, tragic survivor.

New York wasn’t ready for my return.