Ethan gave a slow nod. “Yes. My grandmother lived in Salzburg for a while when she was young. For reasons she never shared, she left and never returned.”

A sudden, wild thought ignited in Isabella’s mind.

Could there possibly be a link between her own mother and Ethan’s grandmother?

The idea was staggering.

If her hunch was correct, the secrets behind her mother’s vanishing and the cryptic key might be deeply intertwined with the Blackwood family.

She looked at Ethan, a thousand questions on her tongue, but she held them back, unsure how to begin.

Ethan then guided her to a charming, intimate restaurant.

“Try this,” he murmured, placing a perfectly glazed piece of roasted rib onto her plate.

Distracted, Isabella picked at the meat, her thoughts entirely consumed by the key.

“Is something wrong?” Ethan noticed her distant expression, his voice laced with quiet concern.

“Just a little tired,” Isabella lied, forcing a small smile to conceal her racing mind.

Ethan didn’t press further. He simply poured her a fresh cup of coffee, the rich aroma filling the space between them.

They finished the rest of their meal in a heavy, contemplative silence.

Later that evening, they returned to The Ritz Paris. The grand lobby was brilliantly illuminated, its polished marble floors shimmering under the crystal chandeliers.

As they stepped inside, the new hotel manager immediately recognized Ethan and hurried over, bowing slightly with deep respect.

“Good evening, Mr. Blackwood.”

“Hmm.” Ethan acknowledged him with a curt nod, his tone cool and detached.

“Mr. Blackwood.” The manager hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “There is a lady here. She claims to be a friend and is insisting on seeing you.”

“A lady?” Ethan’s brow furrowed slightly. “Who is she?”

“She said her surname is Reed.” The manager watched Ethan’s face closely, gauging his reaction.

Reed?

Sophia’s name instantly flashed in Ethan’s mind.

What was she doing here?

His gaze flicked to Isabella, immediately catching her tense, uneasy posture.

Sophia had always been a point of contention between them. Her sudden appearance now was deeply unsettling.

“Send her up to the penthouse,” Ethan instructed, his voice calm and controlled.

The manager nodded swiftly and retreated.

Isabella stood frozen, a cold wave of discomfort washing over her. Her palms felt clammy.

Minutes later, the private elevator doors on the penthouse level slid open with a soft chime.

Sophia stepped out, elegant and poised.

She was dressed in a stunning, form-fitting crimson gown, her makeup flawless, her entire presence radiating a calculated allure.

“Ethan.” Her voice was a soft, honeyed whisper as she glided toward him.

Ethan gave a slight, formal nod. His tone remained neutral. “Why are you here?”

“I came to see you,” Sophia purred, her eyes shifting to Isabella. She scanned her from head to toe, a razor-thin edge of hostility hidden beneath her polished smile.

Isabella’s grip tightened on her handbag, her knuckles turning white as she struggled to maintain her composure.

“Ethan, I know I’ve made so many mistakes,” Sophia said, turning her pleading, glassy eyes back to him. “I regret everything. Truly. Can you ever find it in your heart to forgive me?”

Tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment.

Isabella’s breath hitched in her throat.