5
Isadora’s POV
He grabbed my wrist, spun me around–And pushed me until my back hit the wall.
The sound cracked through the hallway like a gunshot.
“I told you to quit playing games,” he growled, eyes wild. “What the hell were you thinking, cutting up Alessia’s clothes? Is that your way of threatening her? Are you planning to kill her just to have me?”
I reeled–by Cassian’s sheer audacity. He actually believed I’d do that? That I was still so obsessed with him, so desperate to get
his attention?
Cassian stood there like a man unraveling, fury dancing behind his eyes.
‘Cutting up Alessia’s clothes?‘
I stared at him, stunned. What the hell was he talking about?
Before I could respond, my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen–Kai.
Cassian snatched it out of my hand before I could blink.
“This your so–called boyfriend?” he snapped, waving the phone like it was Exhibit A. “You already have a man, and yet you’re still obsessed with sabotaging my relationship? What is it, Isadora–are you that desperate for attention?”
His voice dropped, deadly. “Should I answer him? Tell him what you’ve done?”
I stepped forward, snatching the phone back. “No. I didn’t do anything. And I don’t have time for whatever fantasy drama you
and Alessia are acting out.”
I turned to leave–but Cassian wasn’t finished.
He grabbed my wrist, hard, and dragged me down the hall.
“If you’re having trouble remembering what you’ve done, let me help jog your memory.”
He didn’t stop until we reached the guest room–their room. He shoved the door open.
It looked like a crime scene in there.
Shredded fabrics littered the floor. Designer heels kicked into corners. Every inch of the room was torn apart. But the worst of it? Alessia’s gowns–dozens of them–ripped to ribbons. Including the one she wore on my birthday.
“See?” Cassian spat. “Still want to play innocent? Still want to lie? Who else could’ve done this? Your maid? Your brother? Or maybe you think Alessia cut up her own clothes and pinned it on you?”
That last part wasn’t impossible. Alessia had thrown herself down the stairs last time and cried that I’d pushed her.
