He Flew Home to Surprise His Wife… But What He Found in His Own Mansion Made His Blood Turn Ice Cold

Empty.

He checked the guest rooms.

Nothing.

He moved quickly down the stairs and toward the kitchen.

Still no Isabella.

Only catering staff clearing plates and carrying trays.

Ryan stopped one of the waiters.

“Excuse me,” he said calmly. “Where is Mrs. Isabella?”

The waiter shrugged casually.

“Oh… Bella?”

Ryan’s chest tightened.

“I think she’s out back in the service area. Vanessa had her washing pots earlier.”

For a moment, Ryan couldn’t breathe.

Washing pots.

His wife.

In his house.

He walked toward the back door slowly, his heart pounding harder with every step.

The laughter from the party faded behind him as he stepped into the service courtyard.

There, beside a large sink filled with dirty dishes, stood Isabella.

Her hair was tied back loosely. Her sleeves were rolled up. Soap bubbles covered her hands as she scrubbed a heavy pot.

She looked thinner than he remembered.

Tired.

But still unmistakably Isabella.

Ryan’s chest tightened painfully.

“Bella…”

She froze.

The pot slipped slightly in her hands as she slowly turned around.