He Broke His Promise Now She's Leaving Novel by Lila Vale _ Novel





He Broke His Promise Now She's Leaving Chapter 01

There was an open secret in Los Angeles high society: five years ago, when CEO Harold Ashworth was paralyzed in a car accident and abandoned by those closest to him, a woman named Isabella Regan entered his life and his home.
Back then, Harold laid down the terms: Isabella's job was to care for him and raise his son, and in return, he would provide for her for life.
People mocked Isabella behind her back, calling her a fool for wasting her life on a cripple and a rebellious teenager, who wasn't even her blood.
The doctors had declared that Harold would never leave his wheelchair. But over five years, through expert massage techniques and countless days and nights of turning him, cleaning him, caring for him, Isabella managed to get him standing again.
Under the Ashworth family's roof, she lived like a shadow—quiet, unassuming, never complaining.
But everything shifted today, just as Harold was about to turn thirty-five.
Years ago, in a moment of casual jest, he had said that if he ever fully recovered, he would grant Isabella a legitimate place by his side.
She rose early that morning and spent three hours preparing food. Just as she was about to set the dishes on the dining table, the villa's front door swung open.
Harold stood in the doorway, leaning on his cane, his arm linked with a woman. She was stylish and poised, her appearance remarkably untouched by time.
It was Simone Sheridan, Harold's wife, missing for five years.
"Simi ran into trouble overseas back then and lost her passport," Harold announced, his voice steady and authoritative. "She ended up on the streets and suffered a lot. Now that she's back, she remains the lady of this house. She'll be in charge from now on."
In the living room, their son, Oscar Ashworth, was picking out a suit. He froze for a second, and then his eyes blazed with barely contained ecstasy.
His mother's return meant the core shares of the Ashworth Group, currently locked in a trust, were finally within reach.
Everyone present looked at Isabella, waiting for her to lose it. They all knew how much she'd sacrificed for this family over the years.
Isabella set the soup on the table without a tremor. Not a single drop spilled.
"Mr. Ashworth, you're right." She removed her apron, her tone as flat as if she were commenting on the weather. "Now that Simone is back, I'll move out of the master bedroom right away."
Harold frowned slightly. He'd expected tears or a scene—accusations about everything she'd done for him and this family over the years. In fact, he'd already prepared a check in his study drawer, ready to silence her.
But she was so calm, and it irritated him somehow. He felt as if the five years she'd spent by his side were nothing more than a job she could walk away from at any moment.
"Well, aren't you understanding?" he snorted coldly. "Fine. You'll handle my birthday party and Simi's welcome reception the day after tomorrow. You've always managed these things anyway. Besides, Simi just returned—I don't want to exhaust her."
Isabella lowered her gaze, hiding the hint of weariness in her eyes. "Understood. I'll see to it that my final task is done properly."
She turned and walked toward the live-in caregiver's room to pack her things.
As she passed the den, Oscar's excited voice drifted through the door.
"Mom, I missed you so much all these years. You have no idea—Isabella was such a busybody. She nagged me about spending money wisely when I wanted to buy a watch. So petty. So annoying."
Simone chuckled. "Oh, you poor thing. It must have been so hard, having to call an outsider 'family' all these years."
Isabella didn't stop.
She walked straight to her room, her gaze settling on the half-empty bottle of massage oil on the nightstand. She used it for her finger joints, deformed, swollen, and painful now from years of massaging Harold.
"An outsider." She let out a self-mocking laugh and tossed the bottle into the trash.

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