"I'm his..." Isabella paused mid-sentence, suddenly remembering—she and Desmond were divorced. What was she to him now?
"Not his wife anymore. Don't tell me you are... his mistress?"
These words made her cheeks burn like she'd been slapped.
"If you're not related to him anymore, then you have no business staying in the Marson house. Miss, it's time for you to leave."
"You're his grandmother?" Isabella asked, frowning.
"Ha. You don't even recognize me?" Old Mrs. Marson let out a sarcastic chuckle.
"I'll let Desmond know." Isabella wrinkled her nose slightly. Sure, they hadn't been on great terms lately, but it still felt right to at least tell him.
She remembered that Desmond's parents had passed away in a car crash when he was very young.
He was raised by his gran
