Billionaire, Let's Divorce!

Bella's POV

Killing Isaac and moving away from where I grew up, away from everything and everyone I ever knew was supposed to be a game changer.

I thought it would be a piece of cake. Well, I didn't exactly expect it to be easy but I had thought that with the load of money and car I got from Sydney, it would be easier.

At that time, I remember being the happiest for a while. And at some point, I thought, "Maybe Killing does make people happier."

Because I felt absolute peace and happiness when I saw Isaac drop down before that prison that day. I had prepared myself to rot in jail just to make sure that Isaac never gets to breathe and exist again. His existence was a constant pain for me.NôvelDrama.Org content rights.

He ruined everything for me - my whole fucking life. If I hadn't fallen in love with him, I'd have had a wonderful life with Mark as my husband, or a better person. It'd have been the life I wanted - glamorous and love filled. One my parents never had but then Isaac came along with his stupid sweet words - I can't believe how I found them sweet then, they were very dumb lines and compliments - but I was naive sol let him get in my head.

Fucker. I hope he's burning in hell right now. I hope he's going through an endless pain.

When I shot Isaac, I knew I would get arrested and I was ready to serve jail time. The excuse of me being mentally unstable was only to reduce my term and their strictness. I hadn't expected that my sister would bail me out. In that moment, a flood of emotions washed over me relief at avoiding prison, but also resentment towards Sydney for always having things work out for her so easily.

At that moment when I heard that my release had been sorted and I would be transferred to an asylum, I knew Sydney was a good person, a lucky one. It was what used to annoy me about her. She seemed to have everything set, like she knew where she was headed. Whereas, Isaac was what made me - he took my naive young heart and crushed it, setting me on a dark path full of rage and violence. As I looked back, I realized just how much Isaac's betrayal had warped me.

And my parents? Oh my stars, I hate them. Maybe I should've killed them too. I never confronted them, but I knew they forced Sydney into the wedding with Mark. They always favored her, putting her needs first while brushing me aside. When I got arrested for murdering the man who deceived me, they hadn't even bothered to visit. If they attempted to get me out, I had no idea. But their cold indifference at such a pivotal moment was the final straw - in my mind, they were already dead to me.

I didn't know what pushed me but when I decided that there was no way I'd stay in the asylum when I was perfectly fine upstairs, the only place I had in mind was Sydney's. Maybe it was an unconscious desire for her help again, or maybe I wanted to get back at her somehow for her charmed life. Whatever it was, I couldn't shake the feeling that I needed to go to my sister.

After I left with the car and card that Sydney gave me, I drove aimlessly and slept in my car for weeks while hiding from cops. The fear of being caught and sent away was always present, haunting my every step. I took my baths in public toilets and ate lots of junk, adopting a skid row existence far removed from the opulent lifestyle I once enjoyed. But I didn't care I felt numb, like a walking corpse. All I wanted was to disappear.

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Eventually, I prepared my passport and made my way to Italy. A new country, a new life or so I thought. Maybe it was because of Sydney's expensive car, but a few weeks into trying to settle down in Italy and start all over again, the local mafia started to trail me....

At first I didn't notice the signs the same nondescript car always seeming to be parked nearby, strangers giving me lingering looks on the street. But as the days went by, it became impossible to ignore the feeling that I was being watched, hunted. My heart would race every time I left my small apartment, my eyes constantly scanning my surroundings for threats. I considered fleeing again, disappearing to another remote corner of Europe. But I was so tired of running, of living liked a hunted animal. I had resigned myself to whatever fate awaited me.