Last Revenge

ISABELLA'S POV

Getting ready for a dinner party has never been my thing; I have always preferred being locked up in my room binging on a few of my favourite series or working on something instead. It wasn't that I couldn't go, I just never belonged to the settings, and my stepmother had always made me aware of that.

Every time there was a family function, I would always be reminded not to set my foot there so I do not cause a scene. Not like I have ever caused one.

My father would watch this watch in silence and never make a remark; as long as it wasn't work-related, he didn't seem to care.

My name is Isabella Reed, the first and illegitimate daughter of my father, Tony Reed. I have always been the outcast in my family since I was a child; my stepmother had made sure of that. I stared at the reflection that stared back at me in the mirror; it looked beautiful; I always knew I was beautiful, but never this beautiful. My hair cascaded down in soft waves with a side part instead of the usual messy bun I always had on. I had exchanged my glasses for contacts, and my pastel blue eyes were softly highlighted with molten copper eye shadow.

I looked different, like a sassy and arrogant woman. It looked like a stranger had occupied my body. I wore the only thing that reminded me of my mother. A dainty gold necklace that had always been with me since I was a child.

This party wasn't for people like me but a little hope tugged me to go for it. I needed to see for myself even if I could only do it once in my lifetime. It's not like I have much time left. I glance at My room, a small box With beige walls located at the end of my father's mansion. An unwanted distraction that needed to be kept out of sight, my stepmother had called it. I made my way to the parking lot ready for the party.

I watched Camilla hold her mother’s hand tightly, they exchanged a knowing smile. She squealed for the umpteenth time today and it scratched my ear. I hated her and her mother with a passion, but they didn't need to know that yet. I just had to do what they wanted me to do and get them off my back.

I stepped forward to enter the limousine after Camilla when she pushed me hard.

“Do not forget your place; just because Father is letting you come with us this time around doesn't mean you get to ride with us; ride with my assistants. You know that's where you belong.” Camilla snapped, slamming the door in my face.

I held back the tears that threatened to fall from my eyes, as I walked slowly to the car. The assistants cast me a pitying look. Everyone always did. The first illegitimate daughter of my father, a taint to his family's glory, an abomination. I smiled at their pitying faces, not wanting to give them the satisfaction they wanted.

The drive was slow and peaceful, and soon enough, we arrived at the function. A Victorian mansion house with a timeless elegance welcomed us; it embodied old money and grandeur. I hastened my footsteps as I made my way inside when my stepmother, Tina, slipped to my back whispering, “Do maintain a low profile today if you don't want me to make your life a living hell.”

“Yes ma'am,” I replied curtly.

The function is an anniversary of the Whiltmore family empire and also a celebration of the Whiltmore family union with my family. Of course, no one knew about it; only a few people did; the old money has always been marrying one another for business purposes. The announcement to be made has been making Tina And Camilla over the moon.

They feared I would jinx it, but I had other plans.

The hall was buzzed with chatters and chandeliers cast a luxurious warm glow on the room. Waiters in white and black uniforms glided through the guests swiftly. The air carried a sense of superiority and luxury.

I grabbed a champagne flute from a waiter who walked past me and chugged it down, wishing the night would end soon.

My chest tightened, and I clutched my bag closely, avoiding eye contact with anyone. I hated crowded places, but I walked with elegance, each step exposing my perfectly tanned thighs in the black cocktail gown that hugged me like a second skin.

I scanned the room for the very reason I decided to put myself in the spotlight. He was at the far end of the room. He laughed effortlessly and looked genuinely happy. I watched him exchange words with a few investors I did recognize and I admired how he carried himself with elegance and class. His sharp cheekbone and chiselled jawline became prominent each time he smiled.

I did not want to face another group of entitled rich people. Just as I wanted to slip away, Camilla and her friends made their way towards me.