That night, a desperate plan formed.

The next morning, as Isabel poured Jane a cup of coffee, she struck. “Paul doesn’t love you. He loves control. Help me, and I’ll make you rich.”

Jane hesitated, then smirked. “70/30 split.”

“Deal.”

But Jane betrayed her. Days later, Paul cornered Isabel. “Trying to turn my mistress against me? I won’t hit you, but I will make your life unbearable.”

Trapped, Isabel devised a final move.

Disguised as a maid, she snuck into Paul’s office, searching for incriminating evidence. Just as she found damning documents, her phone buzzed. Paul.

She looked up—cameras. He had seen her.

Panic surged, but she quickly snapped photos and sent them to the media and police. Then Paul arrived.

“Take her!” he barked. “She’s crazy!”

As security grabbed her, Jane smirked triumphantly. But then—police stormed in. “Paul Yeats, you’re under arrest.”

Stunned, Isabel watched Paul get handcuffed. Then she saw Charles standing nearby.

“I thought you wouldn’t help me,” she murmured.

Charles shrugged. “You did the hard part.”

Jane, pale and shaken, muttered, “I should’ve taken your offer.”

Isabel turned to her, voice steady. “You never would have gotten it.”

With Paul gone, she walked away, free at last, ready to start over with her children—this time, on her terms.