Something about Richard troubled him.
The young man always seemed especially interested in Alexander's companies.
He frequently asked about inheritance arrangements, ownership structures, and future investments.
At first, Alexander assumed Richard was simply curious.
But one evening, shortly before the wedding, he asked Richard a direct question.
"If Isabella had nothing, would you still marry her?"
Richard smiled.
"Of course, sir."
Alexander studied his face.
"Because one day, if the money disappeared, love would be the only thing left."
Richard answered immediately.
"Then love would be enough."
Alexander wanted to believe him.
More importantly, he wanted his daughter to be happy.
So he gave his blessing.
And for several years, Isabella believed she had chosen the right man.
She did not know that Richard had begun making decisions that would eventually destroy everything they had built.
Chapter Three: The First Cracks
The changes did not happen overnight.
They came quietly, almost invisibly.
First, Richard started returning home late.
He blamed work.
Then he stopped answering Isabella's calls.
He blamed stress.
After that, he began criticizing small things.
Her clothes.
Her cooking.
Her friends.
The way she spoke at dinner.
Even the way she laughed.
Whenever Isabella questioned his behavior, Richard accused her of being overly emotional.
"You have lived a sheltered life," he would say. "You don't understand the pressure of running a company."
So she tried harder.
She listened more.
She complained less.
She convinced herself that marriage required patience.
When she discovered she was pregnant, she thought everything might finally change.
For three years, Isabella and Richard had struggled to conceive.
There had been medical appointments, disappointing test results, and nights when Isabella cried silently because she feared she would never become a mother.
Then, one beautiful spring morning, the test was positive.
She stared at it for several minutes, unable to believe what she was seeing.
When Richard arrived home that evening, she had placed a tiny pair of blue baby shoes inside a gift box.
"What's this?" he asked.
"Open it."
He lifted the lid.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then he smiled.
"You're pregnant?"
Isabella nodded, tears filling her eyes.
"We're going to have a baby."
Richard embraced her.
And she believed the distance between them had finally disappeared.
But the warmth lasted only a few weeks.
Soon, Richard became more secretive than ever.
He started sleeping in the guest bedroom.
He changed the passwords on his devices.
He began taking mysterious phone calls outside.
Once, Isabella heard him speaking angrily to someone.
"I told you to wait until everything is transferred."
When she entered the room, he immediately ended the call.
"Who was that?" she asked.
"Business."
"What needs to be transferred?"
Richard stared at her.
"Do you always listen to conversations that don't concern you?"
She apologized.
But something inside her grew uneasy.
She had spent years defending her husband against her father's doubts.
Now, for the first time, she wondered whether her father had been right.
Chapter Four: The Night Everything Fell Apart
On the night of the confrontation, Isabella had discovered a document that changed everything.
She had been searching Richard's study for an envelope containing their baby's latest ultrasound photographs.
Inside a locked drawer that Richard had carelessly left open, she found a folder marked CONFIDENTIAL.
At first, she intended to close it.
Then she noticed her father's company name.
Bennett Holdings.
Her heart began pounding.
Inside were financial documents, property-transfer agreements, and authorization forms bearing signatures that appeared to belong to her.
But Isabella had never signed those papers.
The documents suggested that millions of dollars in company assets had been redirected through businesses connected to Richard.
She turned the pages with trembling hands.
One agreement appeared to transfer ownership of a valuable Bennett property to a company she had never heard of.
Another contained what looked like her signature.
It was an almost perfect imitation.
Almost.
Her real signature included a small flourish beneath the final letter.
The one on the page did not.
Isabella felt sick.
She took photographs with her phone.
Then she heard footsteps.
Richard stood in the doorway.
His eyes dropped to the documents.
For one long moment, neither of them spoke.
"What are you doing?" he asked quietly.
Isabella struggled to find her voice.
"Richard, what is all this?"
He entered the room.
"Give me the folder."
"Did you forge my signature?"
"Isabella."
"Did you?"
His expression changed.
The charm disappeared.
The gentleness vanished.
What remained was a cold, calculating anger.
"I said give me the folder."
She stepped away.
"You're taking money from my father's company."
Richard laughed bitterly.