Isabella sensed the sudden change in her son's expression.

Victoria clutched his arm tightly.

"Ethan, Isabella and Arthur were alone in the memorial hall for quite some time. Was it about the shares?"

Ethan pulled his arm away sharply.

His gaze turned cold and distant.

"My affairs are not your concern. Remember—she remains my wife."

He walked toward the door with determined steps.

Sophia blinked in surprise as he passed without acknowledging her.

Panic flashed across her face.

She hurried after him.

"Ethan! Wait!"

He didn't pause or look back.

Sophia stopped abruptly, frustration twisting her features.

She stamped her foot angrily.

The night air carried a chill breeze.

Isabella stepped through the grand gates of Blackwood Estate.

She reached for her phone to call a cab.

Then she remembered the futility.

Blackwood Estate stood isolated, surrounded by private roads and dense woods.

Walking out would be impossible.

She hesitated, uncertain what to do.

Firm footsteps echoed behind her.

She froze.

She knew who it was without turning.

"What did you mean back there, Isabella?" Ethan's voice was low and tense.

She turned to face him with cool indifference.

"Exactly what I said. Are you having trouble understanding, Mr. Blackwood?"

His jaw tightened.

"You need to be very clear about your implications."

She laughed shortly, without humor.

Her expression turned icy.

"I'm perfectly clear. Unlike some who prefer living in delusion."

Her words cut through the air, sharp and unwavering.

"You've already helped Sophia secure the Shaw Group deal. What more do you want?"

Ethan's expression darkened.

His jaw clenched.

Before she could move away, he seized her wrist.

She gasped, pain flickering across her face.

But she refused to look away.

"What's wrong, Mr. Blackwood?" Her voice dripped with mockery.

"Did I hit a nerve? You'll do anything for Sophia, no matter who gets hurt. Tell me—what part of that is untrue?"

His fingers tightened unconsciously around her wrist.

His eyes locked with hers, turbulent and unreadable.

He wanted to deny it, but no words came.

Isabella struggled, her frustration mounting.

"Let me go!" she snapped, her voice trembling with anger.

Ethan remained silent.

He pulled her toward the sleek black Maybach parked nearby.

"What are you doing?" Her voice sharpened with unease.

Still silent, he yanked open the car door.

He pushed her inside and climbed in after her.

"Drive," he ordered coldly.