A sharp slap shattered the tense silence.

Isabella’s free hand connected hard with Ethan’s cheek. He cupped his face, slowly turning toward her. His expression darkened dangerously.

Her breathing grew ragged. Fury boiled inside her. “I can’t believe I ever loved you,” she forced out, each word a painful effort. “Marrying you was the worst decision of my life! Let me go!”

Ethan’s breath caught. Her unexpected words left him stunned.

The worst decision?

His lips pressed into a thin, hard line. His gaze turned icy as it locked onto her. “You regret our marriage?” he mocked, scorn dripping from his tone. “Just admit you’re desperate to be with Lucas! You want a divorce, don’t you?” His grip on her wrist tightened brutally, threatening to crush bone.

“You’ll get it only when I allow it!”

In one swift motion, Ethan hauled Isabella over his shoulder. Her world flipped upside down. Humiliation and helplessness washed over her. She kicked and struggled wildly, but it was useless.

“Ethan, you bastard! Put me down!”

The car door slammed shut with a deep, final thud. Isabella was thrown against the leather seat. Her head hit the window, making her vision swim.

“Ethan! Are you insane?” she cried, trying to sit up. He ignored her, slamming his foot on the accelerator. The car shot forward. The world outside blurred into streaks of light and shadow. Fear coiled tightly in her chest, her heart hammering.

What was he going to do?

The car screeched to a violent halt at Hawthorne Residence, throwing her forward again. Ethan unbuckled his seatbelt, got out, and yanked her from the car.

“Stop it! Let me go!” Isabella fought fiercely. He ignored her protests, his grip unbreakable as he dragged her toward the villa.

Inside, Beatrice paused while dusting an antique vase. She looked up, her face brightening at the sight of them. “Mr. and Mrs. Blackwood, you’re home! What would you like for dinner? I’ll start preparing immediately.”

Ethan acted as if he hadn’t heard. He effortlessly lifted Isabella and headed straight for the bedroom. Beatrice stood frozen, her face a picture of pure confusion.

The bedroom door slammed shut with a deafening bang.

Isabella was thrown onto the bed with force, a soft grunt escaping her. She tried to scramble up, but Ethan’s firm weight pressed down, pinning her completely. His tall frame immobilized her. Panting, she fixed a defiant glare on him. “Really, Ethan? This is a new low, even for you.”

His expression remained dark and unreadable. He said nothing, only tightening his grip on her wrists.

“You’re the one who wanted the divorce. You’re the one who wanted to be with your precious Sophia,” Isabella’s voice shook, but her resolve was steel. “I never stood in your way. Yet you refuse to sign. Could it be…” Her laugh was bitter. “Have you actually developed feelings for me?”

She met his gaze directly, her own eyes clear and cold. “Not that I care about your affections anymore.” She stated each word with distinct clarity. “I don’t love you anymore.”

The words hit Ethan like a physical blow. A sharp, throbbing pain spread through his chest. Confusion swirled within him. He masked it instantly behind a stern, cold facade. “Don’t flatter yourself. Who could ever love you?” His voice was like ice, his dismissal absolute.

His eyes held no warmth, as if she were nothing more than a stranger.

A deep cold seeped into Isabella’s soul. Her heart constricted. She struggled to maintain her composure. Her face became a blank mask. “Get off of me. Let me go.”

Her tone was quiet. It was final.