Sweet Revenge for my Arranged Husband

Chapter 5: Good Morning

Fernando's POV

My name is Fernando Thompson. My father runs the Thompson Group, a prominent conglomerate. When I was around 8 years old, my father arranged my engagement to his friend's newborn daughter. Such arrangements were normal in my world, so it didn't hold much importance to me.

During my teenage years and early adulthood, I had many girlfriends, but I never took any of them seriously. That was until I met Paola.

I met her at a party. Given my social standing, it wasn't difficult for me to meet beautiful women. And Paola was definitely beautiful. But it wasn't just her looks that caught my attention.

It was her innocence, her sweetness that captured my heart in a short period of time. Before I knew it, I had fallen for her.

Initially, I had a good relationship with my father when I introduced him to Paola. He also liked her for me. However, later on, he opposed our relationship.

I told my father that I intended to marry Paola, but he didn't agree. He even threatened to disown me and leave me with nothing.

I thought he just needed time to think and eventually accept my marriage with Paola, but I couldn't have been more wrong.

One day, my father came and told me that I needed to marry the woman he mentioned when I was only eight years old, within a month's time.

I told him it was absurd and that I wouldn't do it. I loved Paola, but he didn't care. He said that if I didn't marry Isabella, she would leave me with nothing.

I didn't care. My love for Paola was greater.

I was furious when I left my father's house and headed straight to Paola. I told her what was happening. She was upset with my father, but then she told me that I had to accept this marriage. She said that we could still be together and that when the time was right, we could separate and pretend that the marriage had served its purpose. We would be happy together, and it was something I needed to accept for the sake of my inheritance.

I knew that my father's health was declining. I was concerned about that. But I also held onto the hope that once my father was gone, Paola and I would finally find happiness together.

The day of the wedding arrived. I didn't meet Isabella until that day when I saw her walk through the aisle. I could see that she was a beautiful girl. She had a certain allure to her, and her eyes showed eagerness. She was shy, and rightfully so, as she was barely 18 years old. I couldn't compare her to my stunning Paola, who possessed a body that drove me wild. Isabella had her own beauty for her age, but they were not comparable.

The wedding was a nightmare. My father bought a house for me and Isabella to live in. She tried hard to please me, but being a wealthy girl, she didn't quite know how to do anything practical. I found her to be unintelligent and lacking substance. She hadn't even learned basic housekeeping skills, which is something upper-class girls are typically taught in order to become good wives.

Sometimes, I found her attempts at doing things cute. However, I couldn't help but think of Paola.

One day, while I was drinking in my office, Isabella entered and asked if I was okay. The truth was, I missed Paola so much. But I couldn't deny that Isabella was pretty, and I had a sudden impulse to kiss her cherry-colored lips. They looked delicious, so I gave in to the temptation and kissed her.

The following day, I saw Isabella sleeping on the sofa. I couldn't help but remember what had happened the previous night.

What's wrong with me? I can't disappoint Paola. So, I quickly woke Isabella up and asked her to leave.

After that, I called Paola and asked her to come live with me. I couldn't be apart from her any longer, and she agreed.

I couldn't be happier, until one day when Isabella confronted me and gave me an ultimatum to choose between her and Paola.

The answer was clear. A couple of hours later, Isabella had left, but not before insulting Paola, who came in crying because of everything Isabella, that spoiled girl, had said to her.

I didn't waste any time and quickly found Isabella, especially since one of our drivers had taken her to her own apartment, which I assumed belonged to her family.

So I went there. I was filled with rage over the things she had said to Paola, and I couldn't control myself. I ended up slapping her, causing her to fall to the floor.

I was shocked by what I had done. I had never hit a woman before. I had the impulse to apologize and help her, but I held myself back. It was better for me to leave and get out of there.

After that, I didn't hear anything about Isabella. The truth is, what she did with her life didn't matter to me. She probably went on trips and spent money with her friends like any spoiled girl would.

What mattered to me now was being together with Paola. The only downside was that we couldn't be public about our relationship. She accompanied me to events, and we had fun together, but we could never be captured by photographers.

After a few years, we had grown accustomed to that way of living. And my father's health had been deteriorating, which gave me hope that I would soon be free to be with Paola.

We were counting down the days.

I had made sure that the media saw me as an understanding husband. Allowing my wife to stay home always was the best way I found to justify the brat's absence.

Until one day, everything changed.

I received an invitation, as usual, for an awards event for both my wife and me. The person who was supposed to accompany me at the table was supposed to be Paola.

But this time, things were different. I had to walk the red carpet and interact with journalists, and I couldn't do that with Paola by my side. She always waited for me inside.

During these events, she introduced herself as Isabella Thompson to the people. We had been doing this for years. The people in society knew that Paola was not Isabella, but no one dared to speak up or complain.

That particular event seemed like any other. As I stepped out of the car, I felt someone grab my arm.

It was a beautiful woman. Her face seemed familiar, and I was surprised. She was different from Paola, but there was something about her that made her look even more stunning.

I didn't know how to explain it, but for a brief moment, I was frozen and then reacted when she spoke. It was Isabella. However, she had a composed look on her face. She didn't resemble the girl I knew from six years ago.

There were dozens of photographers in front of us, and when she made me walk, I couldn't bear it any longer.

To play along, I pretended to be astonished as she started talking to journalists and fabricated a strange story about her studies and being a doctor.

I confronted her about her plan inside, but Isabella remained calm. I had almost forgotten about Paola. However, just as I was about to fix the situation, Paola arrived hysterical, causing a scene. Before I could say anything to mitigate the situation, Isabella stepped forward and threatened to call security, accusing Paola of trying to impersonate her.

She also threatened to tell the media everything if I left with Paola.

Her gaze was piercing. I knew she wasn't joking about her threats. I had no choice but to dismiss Paola.

It was going to be costly for me. I would have to compensate Paola, and I knew it would cost me a couple of million to do so.

I couldn't help but be surprised by how effortlessly Isabella handled the event. She even conversed with foreign guests in different languages.

I knew that Isabella came from the powerful Castrioti family, who were equally or even more influential than us. It was impressive that she knew multiple languages. Perhaps she had traveled the world and learned how to spend money wisely.

I couldn't help but notice how Isabella effortlessly captured the attention of other men. It seemed like she was accustomed to hopping from one bed to another, and it didn't faze her at all.

I must admit that Isabella had grown into a beautiful woman. Everything about her was in place, and she carried herself attractively. Her dress accentuated her assets without being vulgar.

I shook my head, trying to clear my mind of those thoughts, and focused on Paola instead. She must be extremely upset by now.

As I left the event, Isabella accompanied me. We entered my car together. She had maintained her smile throughout the event, and while the cameras captured our moments together, she was affectionate to the point that when we left the event, she didn't hesitate to kiss me. The photographers captured everything, and for some reason, I couldn't resist.