Chapter 17: The Echoes of the Past
Despite their victory, the past occasionally sent ripples through their present. Marcus received a formal notice from the state prison; Isabella was requesting a final audience. Against the advice of his security team, Marcus went.
The prison was a stark contrast to the opulence of his life. Isabella looked hollow—a shell of the woman who had once navigated the highest echelons of society. When Marcus entered the room, she didn't look up immediately. When she did, her eyes were devoid of their former malice.
"You look different," she whispered.
"I grew up," Marcus replied bluntly.
"I was a fool," she said, her voice trembling. "Julian promised me everything. He promised me a seat at the table. But I was just a utensil, wasn't I? He used me, and then he let me burn."
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"You chose your path, Isabella," Marcus said, his voice firm. "You didn't have to attack my wife. You didn't have to betray the trust we placed in you. That was your choice, and you are the one living with the consequences."
He didn't offer comfort, and he didn't offer mercy. He simply left her there, a prisoner of her own greed. It was the closure he didn't know he needed. He realized that holding onto the anger only anchored him to the past. He stepped out of the prison and took a deep breath of the outside air. He was finally, truly free.
