Isabella Valentine's car trailed silently behind Ethan Sullivan's vehicle.

She maintained the perfect distance.

In the parking lot of the upscale private hospital, Isabella pulled out a prepared nurse uniform from her bag.

A mask, cap, and fake ID badge—everything was in place.

Though the disguise wasn’t flawless, it was convincing enough to blend into the crowd.

Inside the examination building, she lurked around a corner, watching.

Ethan was accompanying Sophia Laurent for her blood draw.

"Be gentle," he murmured, his brow furrowed with more tension than the patient herself.

Once the needle was withdrawn, he carefully pressed a cotton swab against her skin.

"Does it hurt?" His voice was tender, almost dripping with concern.

Sophia shook her head. "Just a tiny prick."

Ethan unwrapped a chocolate and held it to her lips. "For your blood sugar."

"I’m not made of glass."

"To me, you are." He guided her to a seat, his arm around her shoulders. "Rest before the next test."

Isabella’s eyes burned with envy.

This should have been her privilege.

Everything changed after that car accident four years ago.

Her fists clenched, nails digging into her palms.

Near the urine sample room, she waited until Sophia left before creeping closer.

From her pocket, she pulled out a syringe.

Her hands trembled violently.

Just as the needle pierced the sample cup, footsteps echoed behind her.

Isabella nearly dropped the syringe in panic.

Assuring herself no one had noticed, she quickly drew half a tube of liquid.

The moment she sealed the bag, she hurried toward the exit.

Her heart pounded as if trying to escape her chest.

The underground parking lot was dimly lit.

As she reached her car, two black-suited bodyguards blocked her path.

"Hand it over," one demanded coldly.

"You’ve got the wrong person," she insisted, forcing composure.

A familiar voice cut through the shadows. "Miss Ulrich has a peculiar fascination with urine samples?"

Isabella froze.

When she turned, her mask slipped, revealing a face marred with scratches.

Ethan stood three paces away, his gaze icy.

"Ethan..." She forced a smile.

"Drink it," he said flatly.

Her face paled. "That’s—"

"On your own, or shall I have them pour it down your throat?"

The bodyguards seized her.

The syringe’s contents were forced into her mouth.

The acrid taste triggered violent retching.

Ethan walked away without a backward glance.

Back in the examination room, Sophia had just finished her ultrasound.

"Where’d you go?" she asked.

"Handled a minor nuisance," Ethan replied dismissively.

When Sophia learned of Isabella’s fate, she frowned. "Why is she so obsessed with paternity tests?"

"Just trying to drag you into her mess."

On the drive home, Sophia leaned against his shoulder.

"The doctor said I’m recovering well. We can try for a baby next year."

Ethan wrapped his fingers around her slender wrist. "Wait three more years."

"But—"

"No buts." He kissed her knuckles. "You matter more than a child."

Sophia’s eyes glistened. "Next lifetime, I’ll take care of you."

"We’ll be together every lifetime."

The partition slid up.

Only the sound of entangled breaths filled the backseat.