Isabella knew she was still legally bound to him as his wife.

She had no choice but to take his offered arm.

Her face remained cold and unsmiling.

Her eyes were sharp with sarcasm.

She wondered who this performance was for.

Was it Sophia?

Isabella glanced in Sophia’s direction.

A clear flash of resentment shone in Sophia’s eyes.

Internally, Isabella scoffed.

Bright lights illuminated both Isabella and Ethan.

Guests gathered around them, praising their apparent harmony.

“Mr. and Mrs. Blackwood, you make such a stunning couple!”

“Mrs. Blackwood, you look absolutely breathtaking tonight. That gown is perfection on you.”

“The love between you two is truly something special.”

Isabella heard the empty compliments.

They did nothing to warm her heart.

She desperately needed an excuse to escape the suffocating atmosphere.

“I need to use the ladies' room,” she stated coldly, avoiding Ethan’s gaze.

Ethan caught her wrist.

He smiled, a mysterious curve of his lips.

“Allow me to accompany you,” he suggested smoothly.

Isabella pulled her hand free with a sharp jerk.

Her voice was a low, tense hiss.

“Have you completely lost your mind?”

Ethan simply chuckled.

He casually wrapped an arm around her waist.

He guided her toward a quieter corner of the room.

“You’re acting strangely tonight,” he murmured, his tone probing. “What are you up to?”

A spike of anxiety shot through her.

She masked it with pure defiance.

“What did you expect?” she retorted. “Should I play the happy, devoted wife? At a celebration, flanked by both your wife and your mistress? Aren’t you worried people will see you for the player you are?”

Her voice dripped with venomous sarcasm.

Her gaze was icy.

“Why don’t you go spend your precious time with your dear Sophia instead?”

With those words, she shoved him away with force.

She quickly made her way toward the restroom.

Ethan stood frozen in place.

His expression was unreadable as he watched her leave.

Sophia moved through the crowd with practiced ease.

Her smile was enchanting.

She made light conversation with the guests.

Yet her gaze continually drifted back to Ethan.

She noticed his stillness.

A secret smirk touched her lips.

Sophia knew Isabella’s attempt to slip away alone was pointless.

She thought she might have to step in and handle the fool herself.

Isabella circled the restroom area.

She found no windows that could offer an escape.

People were constantly coming and going.

Any unusual behavior would be instantly noticed.

It would undoubtedly alert Ethan.

Feeling utterly trapped, she decided her best move was to simply leave the area for now.

When Isabella emerged, Ethan eyed her with deep suspicion.

He remained silent.

At that exact moment, Sophia approached.

She was carrying two glasses of champagne.

Her expression was sickly sweet.

But as she reached Isabella, Sophia’s foot seemed to catch.

She lurched forward dramatically.

The champagne splashed across the front of Isabella’s dress.

“Oh, my goodness!” Sophia cried out, stumbling backward.

Isabella fought the powerful urge to roll her eyes.

What a pathetic, transparent act.

But Sophia’s over-the-top performance was actually playing right into her hands.

Isabella masked her utter disdain with a look of feigned shock.

She glanced down at her ruined, champagne-soaked dress.

Her face was a perfect picture of mild panic.