Sophia observed his struggle with thinly veiled amusement.
A frosty smile played on her lips.
“Benjamin, are you attempting to interfere between Ethan and me?”
Benjamin, now soaked in sweat, shook his head quickly.
“Absolutely not. It’s just… Mr. Blackwood is quite heavy.”
Sophia let out a cold, humorless laugh.
“Fine. Assist me in getting him to the bed. After that, you can stop worrying.”
Benjamin suppressed a groan.
He should have avoided this entire situation.
But with Sophia making the request—and knowing Ethan rarely refused her—he couldn’t exactly say no.
Reluctantly, he followed Sophia’s lead, helping Ethan toward the bedroom door, wishing he were elsewhere.
Taking a steadying breath, Benjamin pushed the bedroom door open.
As it swung inward, both he and Sophia froze.
There, asleep on the master bed, was Isabella—her breathing deep and even, lost in slumber.
Her face, though pale and shadowed with exhaustion, still possessed a delicate, effortless beauty that seemed to glow softly in the dim light.
Sophia’s expression darkened instantly.
The smug confidence she had worn like armor vanished, replaced by a venomous mix of jealousy and rage.
She bit her lip so hard it nearly drew blood.
“Well…” Benjamin managed, his voice faint with shock.
Finding Isabella asleep in Ethan’s bedroom was the last thing he expected tonight.
Sophia inhaled sharply, her fury simmering just beneath the surface.
She leaned toward Benjamin, her voice a low, icy whisper.
“Take him to the guest room.”
All warmth had drained from her tone, leaving nothing but cold steel.
She had believed Ethan invited her to move into Hawthorne Residence out of love, but discovering Isabella—so comfortably settled in the master bedroom—felt like a brutal slap.
Sophia’s fists clenched at her sides, bitter regret rising in her throat.
She should have eliminated Isabella long ago.
Benjamin, however, felt an unexpected wave of relief.
With Isabella here, the chances of anything reckless happening between Ethan and Sophia seemed slim.
Without another word, he guided Ethan’s dead weight toward the guest room.
The moment Ethan was settled, Sophia turned to Benjamin with a sharp glare, her voice flat and final.
“You should leave now.”
Sophia tiptoed toward the bed where Ethan lay, holding her breath as she approached.
Under the faint light, Ethan’s sharp features became more pronounced.
His eyes were closed, long lashes casting delicate shadows.
His lips remained slightly parted.
Even in sleep, he radiated an undeniable charm.
Many times, Sophia had imagined making her dreams a reality, yet Ethan had never touched her.
Finally, the moment she had yearned for was within reach.
Her heart hammered loudly.
Sophia’s fingers trembled slightly as she reached for Ethan’s belt.
The buckle clicked open, but at the same moment, Ethan’s hand closed around hers.
Her heart stuttered as panic flashed in her eyes, and she met his gaze—empty and unreadable.
Sophia froze, breathless with shock.
As she braced for confrontation, Ethan’s raspy voice broke the silence.
“Isabella?”