Chapter 3 - Shadows From a Prison Cell
Life inside the cold, concrete walls of the county jail was driving Isabella to the brink of madness.
She paced around her cramped cell like a caged tiger, furiously chewing on her broken fingernails.
Her grand plan to inherit the Montgomery fortune by eliminating the rightful heir had been utterly destroyed by a nobody.
A prison guard approached the iron bars, sliding a prepaid mobile phone across the cold floor when no one was looking.
Isabella quickly snatched the device, hiding it under her thin, scratchy blanket.
She dialed a number from memory, waiting as the line rang with agonizing slowness.
"Marcus, it's me," Isabella hissed into the receiver, her eyes darting around the cell block.
"You are supposed to be laying low, Isabella," the slick voice of her outside accomplice echoed back.
"I will not rot in this hellhole while that pathetic waitress lives in my mansion!" she screamed into the phone.
"I need you to dig up every dark secret, every mistake, and every flaw in Sarah's past."
"We are going to destroy her reputation so thoroughly that Arthur will beg to throw her out on the street."
"And if she doesn't have any dark secrets?" Marcus asked with a sinister chuckle.
"Then you invent them," Isabella ordered, a cruel, vindictive smile spreading across her face.
"Make her look like a gold-digging kidnapper who staged the whole thing to get Arthur's money."
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She hung up the phone, her mind already spinning a web of toxic lies to reclaim her stolen throne.
Isabella was not going down without dragging everyone else into the flames with her.
