“I understand, ma’am. Your privacy will be respected,” the teacher assured Isabella quickly.

“Thank you,” Isabella replied with a grateful smile before crouching down. She gently stroked Liam’s hair. “Liam, promise me you’ll listen to your teachers, okay?”

“I promise, Mommy! I’ll be good!” Liam nodded eagerly.

“That’s my sweet boy.” She pressed a tender kiss to his forehead. “I’ll be back to pick you up after work.”

“Okay!” he chirped obediently.

With a heart full of reluctance, Isabella walked out of the kindergarten. She paused at the entrance, watching his small figure disappear into the classroom. A familiar mix of warmth and melancholy tightened her chest. He was growing up so fast. Soon, he wouldn’t need her as much.

She let out a quiet sigh and finally turned to leave.

A sleek black Rolls-Royce Phantom glided to a silent halt directly in front of her. Her heart instantly seized.

Ethan.

Why was he here?

She froze on the spot, her feet refusing to move.

The tinted window descended smoothly, revealing Ethan’s strikingly handsome profile. He sat inside, his head tilted slightly as he studied her. His dark eyes were unreadable, giving nothing away.

“What are you doing here?” Isabella asked, her voice laced with wariness.

“Get in.” He ignored her question entirely. His command was calm, authoritative. His low, magnetic voice left no room for argument.

Isabella hesitated for a brief moment before obeying.

The interior of the car was filled with his familiar, expensive cologne. The scent was uniquely his.

Ethan broke the silence with a question that made her blood run cold. “Where’s Lucas?”

Isabella tensed immediately. She hadn’t expected this. She had just told the teacher Liam’s father was gone. Now Ethan was asking about Lucas. Panic flared within her.

Her mind scrambled for a plausible answer. She lowered her gaze, hoping to hide the fear in her eyes.

She hated lying. But she had no choice. She could never let Liam be taken into the cold, unfeeling world of the Blackwood family. She had to protect him, no matter the cost.

“He… had an urgent matter to attend to. He’ll come later,” she stammered, fighting to keep her voice steady.

“Is that so?” Ethan’s sharp gaze flickered. His long fingers began a slow, rhythmic tap against the leather armrest. The soft, deliberate sound amplified the tension in the quiet car.

He fell silent again, just watching her.

Earlier, Sophia Jennings—a teacher from the elite international kindergarten funded by Blackwood Enterprises—had contacted him directly.

“Are you hiding something from me, Isabella?” Ethan’s direct question made her heart plummet.

Isabella parted her lips, but no sound came out.

What could she possibly say? That Liam was hers alone? That she had invented a dead father to keep him away from the Blackwoods?