“Who do you think you are, bursting in like this?” Max shouted, standing up.
Arthur, an 83-year-old man with the eyes of a hawk, tossed an envelope onto the table, knocking over Camilla’s orange juice. “I am the owner of this house, boy. And you are a delinquent tenant who just violated the morality clause of your contract.”
Max turned pale. “That’s impossible. This is my house. Isabella said…” “Isabella was kind enough to let you live here and pretend you were rich to feed your ego,” Arthur interrupted. “But the show is over. You have an immediate eviction order. And my lawyers just sent your accounting ledgers to the FBI.”
Camilla, hearing “FBI” and “delinquent,” dropped Max’s arm as if it were burning. “You don’t own this?” she asked, horrified. “And the money?” “It’s all debt, dear,” Isabella said, appearing behind her father, impeccably dressed. “Even the necklace you’re wearing is stolen. Take it off. Now.”
The scene was chaotic. Camilla ripped off the necklace, threw it on the table, and ran out, screaming that she was a victim too. Max tried to negotiate, stammering excuses, but the sheriff began moving his furniture onto the lawn in the rain.
The stress of the confrontation took its toll. Isabella felt a sharp pain in her abdomen and had to be rushed to the hospital. Doctors warned that the extreme stress was putting the pregnancy at risk. While Isabella fought for her baby’s health in a hospital bed, Max desperately tried to control the media narrative, painting himself as a victim of a family conspiracy. But he didn’t know that Rosa, the housekeeper, had been recording his private conversations for months—including the exact moment he planned Isabella’s humiliation to boost his public profile before a failed IPO.
Part 3: The Legacy of Truth
From her hospital bed, Isabella watched Max’s empire of lies crumble in real-time. Rosa’s recording leaked to the press. In it, Max was heard clearly telling Camilla: “I’ll humiliate her publicly so she looks unstable; that way, no one will believe her claims when the company goes under. She’s the perfect scapegoat.” Public opinion shifted instantly. Max went from the “wronged tycoon” to the “monster of the gala.”
Cornered by the FBI and homeless, Max tried one last desperate move. His lawyer contacted Isabella offering a deal: he would grant a divorce without a fight and pay $2 million (which he didn’t have but promised to get) in exchange for her dropping the fraud charges and issuing a joint “amicable reconciliation” statement to save his reputation.
Isabella, now recovered and with her pregnancy out of danger, met him in the conference room of the federal prison where Max was being held as a flight risk. Daniel Reeves, a brilliant young lawyer Arthur had hired (and with whom Isabella felt a growing connection), sat by her side.
