The Warlord Comes Home

The elegant restaurant buzzed with the soft clatter of silverware and muted conversations. Diego sat alone at the corner table, his fingers drumming against the white tablecloth as he checked his watch for the hundredth time. Three hours. He had been waiting for three hours.

"Sir, would you like to order now?" the waiter approached hesitantly, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

"Not yet," Diego replied, his voice strained. "She'll be here soon."

The waiter nodded politely and retreated. Diego pulled out his phone, staring at the screen before dialing her number again.

"Pick up, Isabella," he muttered under his breath. "Please, just pick up."

The phone rang endlessly before going to voicemail. Again. Diego closed his eyes, remembering their conversation from three days ago.

"Isabella, I've booked that new French place downtown for your birthday. Friday at seven, remember?"

She had barely looked up from her phone then, her fingers still typing away at something. "Hmm? Oh, right. We'll see."

"We'll see? It's your birthday dinner, Isabella. I've been planning this for weeks."

"Diego, you know how busy I am right now. The comeback tour, the interviews, the photo shoots... I can't promise anything."

"But it's just one evening. For us. For your birthday."

She had given him that look—the one that made him feel like he was asking for too much, always asking for too much.

"I said we'll see, didn't I?"

Now, sitting in the restaurant with two empty wine glasses and a wilted bouquet beside him, Diego felt like a fool. But he couldn't give up. Not yet. He dialed again.

This time, the call connected.

"What?" Isabella's voice cut through the line like a blade, sharp with irritation.

"Isabella, thank God. I've been waiting at the restaurant for—"

"Restaurant? What restaurant?"

Diego's heart sank. "The French place. For your birthday. I told you about this days ago."

"Diego, I'm working. Do you have any idea how important tonight is for me?"

"But it's your birthday—"

"My career doesn't stop for birthdays!" she snapped. "God, you're so clingy sometimes. I can't deal with this right now."

"Isabella, please, I just wanted to celebrate with you. We never spend time together anymore."

"That's because I'm rebuilding my entire life! You think stardom just happens? You think I can just drop everything for your little dinner dates?"

Diego felt the familiar sting of her words, but pressed on. "I know you're busy, but we're married, Isabella. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"Don't you dare guilt-trip me," her voice rose dangerously. "You knew what you were getting into when you married me."

"I married you because I love you."

"Love doesn't pay the bills, Diego. Love doesn't get me back on magazine covers."

The words hit him like a physical blow. "Is that all this is to you? A transaction?"

"Everything is a transaction in my world. You should have figured that out by now."

Diego gripped the phone tighter, his knuckles white. "Isabella, please. Just come to dinner. We can talk about everything else later."

"I'm not coming to dinner!" she exploded. "I'm busy with someone who actually matters to my career, not some pathetic—"

Her voice suddenly became muffled, as if she had covered the phone. Marcus strained to listen.

"Baby, who is that?" a deep, masculine voice drifted through the speaker, intimate and impatient.

Marcus's blood turned to ice.

"Nobody important," Isabella's voice was breathless now, completely different from how she had been speaking to him. Sweet. Seductive. "Just some business thing."

"Well, hang up then," the man's voice was closer now, husky with desire. "I want you back in bed."

"Alejandro, you're so impatient," Isabella giggled—actually giggled. Diego had never heard her laugh like that with him.

"I've waited three years for this, Isabella. I'm not waiting another second."

The sounds that followed made Diego's stomach lurch. Soft moans, the rustle of sheets, Isabella's voice whispering things she had never whispered to him.

"Oh God, Alejandro... yes... right there..."

"You're so beautiful, baby. I've missed this. I've missed you."

"I've missed you too... so much..."

Suddenly, the line went dead.

Diego sat frozen, his hands shaken. The passionate cries, the rhythmic sounds, Isabella's voice calling out another man's name with more passion than she had ever shown him.

The silence deafening after what he had just heard. Around him, the restaurant continued its gentle hum of activity, completely unaware that his world had just collapsed. 

Then, like a cruel twist of fate, the massive screen mounted on the restaurant wall suddenly blazed to life with breaking news.

"BREAKING: Business Empire Heir Declares Love for Comeback Queen!"

Diego looked up as the screen filled with a familiar face. Alejandro Morales, heir to the Morales business empire, stood before a crowd of reporters in an impeccably tailored navy suit, his arms wrapped around a radiant woman in a flowing red gown.

Isabella.

"Isabella Rodriguez," Alejandro's voice boomed through the restaurant's speakers,

"I spent three years regretting every day I wasn't by your side. Now I'm back." Alejandro dropped to one knee, pulling out a ring box. "You are the love of my life. Will you marry me?"

The crowd erupted in cheers as Isabella nodded, tears flowing freely.

"Yes! Yes, of course!"

Alejandro slipped the ring onto her finger and pulled her into a deep, passionate kiss as fireworks exploded in the sky behind them. The crowd went wild with approval.

"Oh my God, they're perfect together!" a woman at a nearby table gushed to her companion.

"Aren't they? Alejandro Morales... now that's a man worthy of Isabella Rodriguez."

"Did you know they were childhood sweethearts? First loves and everything."

"Really? How romantic!"

"I heard she was devastated when he left after she had that horrible accident. Three years of heartbreak, but look at them now!"

"It's like a fairy tale. The prince returning for his princess."

"And Alejandro Morales... heir to billions. Finally, she has a man who matches her status."

"The wedding is going to be the event of the century!"

Diego sat motionless, listening to the excited chatter swirling around him. On the screen, reporters thrust microphones toward the happy couple.

"Isabella, how does it feel to have your first love return?"

Isabella beamed at the camera, her eyes sparkling with joy. "Alejandro is my soulmate. We're meant to be together. This feels like destiny."

"Any plans for the wedding?"

"Soon," Alejandro grinned. "I've waited long enough to make her mine."

Diego watched his wife on screen, seeing a version of her he had never known existed. She was animated, joyful, completely alive in a way she had never been with him. When she looked at Alejandro, her entire face lit up with love.

Real love.

The kind of love she had never, not once in their two years of marriage, shown him.

Diego finally understood. He had never been her husband—he had been her placeholder. A convenient arrangement while she waited for her real love to return.

The screen showed them kissing again, Isabella's hands tangled in Alejandro's hair, her body pressed against his with desperate passion. The same passion Diego had just heard through the phone.

The same passion she had never shown him.

Not even once.