ISABELLA'S POV
Isabella stands in front of the Vogue cover and doesn't recognize herself.
The woman looking back at her is someone else. Someone beautiful and powerful and untouchable. Someone who built an empire from nothing. Someone who should be happy. But the eyes are wrong. They're cold. They're empty. They're the eyes of someone who's been hollowed out and filled with ambition instead.
The headline reads: "From Heartbreak to High Fashion: How Isabella Summers Became Fashion's Most Devastating Designer."
Three boutiques. A flagship studio in SoHo. A design team of twelve people. Celebrities requesting custom pieces. Fashion bloggers calling her a genius. In three years, she's gone from a basement room to the top of an industry that said she'd never survive.
She should be celebrating.
Instead, she feels nothing.
Grace finds her standing there and sets down two coffees.
"You're doing it again," Grace says.
"Doing what?" Isabella asks without turning around.
"That thing where you achieve something incredible and act like you achieved nothing," Grace says. She's wearing all black like always. She's Isabella's PR specialist, her best friend, the only person who knows the truth about why Isabella really came back to New York. "You're on the cover of Vogue. You should be happy."
"I am happy," Isabella lies.
"No you're not," Grace says and sits down on the stool beside her. "You're empty. You've been empty for three years. You built all of this and you don't even know why anymore."
Isabella turns to look at her friend and feels something crack inside her chest. Grace has been there for every moment of this rise. Grace has been the one pushing her to bigger things. Grace has been the one who understands that Isabella's designs aren't just beautiful. They're weapons.
"I'm doing this for a reason," Isabella says quietly.
"I know what reason," Grace says. "And I need you to be honest with me right now. Is it worth it?"
Isabella doesn't answer because the honest answer would destroy both of them.
The truth is that she's built an empire on a foundation of anger. Every design came from thinking about James. Every success came from the need to show him what he lost. Every magazine cover was another step toward the moment when he would realize his mistake.
But somewhere along the way, the anger stopped feeling like fuel and started feeling like poison.
"We're opening another boutique next month," Grace continues. "In Paris. You're getting a collaboration offer from one of the biggest luxury brands in the world. You have celebrities waiting months for custom pieces. You have everything you said you wanted."
"I have what I said I needed," Isabella corrects. "Those aren't the same thing."
Grace sets down her coffee and looks at her friend carefully.
"Tell me honestly," Grace says. "Is this still about James or is this about you?"
Isabella stands up and walks to the window. From here, she can see all of SoHo. She can see the studio where she created her first collection. She can see the city that rejected her and now worships her.
"It started because of James," Isabella says slowly. "But it became about me. It became about proving that I was never unsuitable. It became about building something so big that the word unsuitable loses meaning."
"And now?" Grace asks.
"Now I don't know what it's about anymore," Isabella admits.
Grace comes and stands beside her and they look out at the city together.
"There's something you should know," Grace says carefully. "I was doing some PR work for James's father's company. I heard something today."
Isabella's entire body goes rigid.
"What?" she asks.
"James and Sophia are getting divorced," Grace says. "It just became public an hour ago. He ended the engagement. He said they wanted different things."
Isabella turns to stare at her friend.
"He didn't love her," Isabella whispers.
"No," Grace says. "He didn't. And according to my sources, he's been asking about you. For months. He knows about your success. He knows about your designs. He reads every interview you give."
Something inside Isabella's chest starts beating differently.
"There's more," Grace says. "The Charity Gala is happening in six weeks. It's the biggest event of the season. His company is sponsoring it. And I heard from someone that they're looking for a designer to feature their collection debut there."
Isabella understands what Grace is saying without her having to say it.
Six weeks until the moment Isabella's been planning for three years.
Six weeks until she walks into a room where James is waiting and he sees exactly what he gave up.
"You could do it," Grace says. "You could debut your collection at that gala. You could show up looking like you own the world. You could be there when he realizes that you never needed him at all."
Isabella's heart is racing.
This is the moment. This is what she's been working toward. This is the revenge she's built an empire to achieve.
But as she stands there with Grace looking out at her city, Isabella realizes something that terrifies her.
She doesn't know if she wants revenge anymore.
She doesn't know if seeing James destroyed will make her feel better or just more empty.
She doesn't know if becoming untouchable was worth becoming hollow.
"Isabella," Grace says carefully, "I need you to think about something before you decide to do this."
"What?" Isabella asks.
"What happens after?" Grace says. "What happens when you've destroyed him? What happens when you've won? What happens when revenge is done and you're still standing alone in a beautiful life that feels like a prison?"
Isabella doesn't have an answer.
"I'm not saying don't do it," Grace continues. "I'm just saying make sure you're doing it for the right reasons. Make sure you're not destroying him just to destroy yourself slowly."
That night, Isabella is alone in her studio designing a new collection when her phone buzzes.
It's a text from an unknown number. When she opens it, her blood runs cold.
It's a photo of James. He's sitting in his office looking at a picture on his desk. And even from the photo, Isabella can tell it's a picture of her. It's from when they were together. From before everything fell apart.
Below the photo is a message: "I never stopped loving you. I know I destroyed us but I'm still here. I'm always going to be here."
Isabella's hands shake.
She doesn't respond. She just stares at that image of James looking at a memory of her. Stares at the desperation in his face. Stares at the man who called her unsuitable begging to be suitable for her.
And she realizes in that moment that she has a choice to make.
She can walk into that gala and destroy him completely. She can show him everything he lost and watch him break.
Or she can walk into that gala and finally heal.
But she can't do both.
Because if James is still broken about her after three years, if he's still thinking about her after everything he's done, then destroying him would mean destroying the last proof that what they had was real.
It would mean admitting that she's been hollow because her revenge was never really about him at all.
It was about proving to herself that she deserved better.
And standing here, looking at his broken face in a photograph, Isabella finally understands that deserving better and destroying him aren't the same thing.
She deletes the text without responding.
But she saves the photo.
Because in six weeks, she's going to walk into that gala wearing a dress she designed that will change everything.
And when James sees her, he's going to finally understand what unsuitable really means.
It means a woman powerful enough to destroy him but choosing not to.
It means a woman who could make him beg but choosing something else instead.
It means Isabella Summers, finally understanding that the greatest revenge isn't about hurting him anymore.
It's about becoming someone he can't live without.