A grim line tightened Ethan’s mouth, his eyes flashing with barely contained fury. He didn’t release Isabella’s wrists. Instead, he pressed them harder into the mattress.

“You are my wife,” he bit out, each word sharp with anger. “I will not stand by while you involve yourself with Lucas and betray me. You will not leave this house until you cut all contact with him.” His voice was low, dangerous.

Disbelief washed over Isabella’s face. She stared up at him, shocked. “You’re locking me in?”

Ethan said nothing. His icy gaze was answer enough.

He stood and walked out, his tall frame casting a long shadow over her. The door slammed shut with a heavy thud, making her flinch.

She reached instinctively for her phone, her fingers searching the empty space beside her.

It was gone.

Then she remembered. Ethan had thrown it into the lake.

She was completely isolated. Trapped.

She rose and moved to the window.

Below, security guards in black uniforms stood watch around the villa. Their presence was a solid, unyielding barrier. Escape was impossible.

She retreated to the bed, the plush mattress feeling like a prison cot. What was she supposed to do now?

Rage burned inside her. Ethan’s rough handling had compressed her abdomen. A dull, persistent ache was growing there.

Sharp, stabbing pains began to radiate through her. Cold sweat beaded on her forehead. Her face lost all color.

Curled into a tight ball on the bed, she trembled uncontrollably.

Tears streamed down her face, silently soaking the pillow.

“My baby,” she whispered, her lips quivering. The words were barely a breath. “Not now… Please… If your father finds out, we’re both in danger…”

She wrapped her arms around her stomach, trying to form a protective shield.

Ethan’s relentless cruelty, Sophia’s vicious words, the constant setbacks—it had all drained her. She felt hollow, broken.

She didn’t know how much longer she could endure it.

But one purpose burned clear in her mind. Protect her child.

That child was her only hope.

Hours passed, but the pain in her abdomen did not fade. It was a constant, grinding agony.

Slowly, the room began to blur. Exhaustion and pain clouded her mind.

She cried until she had no strength left. Then, she fell into a deep, troubled sleep.

Meanwhile, Ethan brooded in his office. He swirled the amber whiskey in his glass, the liquid catching the light. It mirrored his dark, turbulent mood.

Isabella’s defiant words haunted him. They echoed in his head.

“Who does she think she is?” he muttered to the empty room. He scoffed and took a sharp drink. The liquor burned a warm path down his throat, but it did nothing to cool his anger. “As if her words could affect me. Ridiculous.”

He slammed the glass down on his desk. The sound echoed sharply in the silence.

Abruptly, he snatched his phone and dialed Benjamin’s number.

“Bring Sophia to Hawthorne Residence. Now,” he commanded, his voice cold and detached.

Benjamin’s voice came through, hesitant. “Sir? Hawthorne Residence was meant for you and Mrs. Blackwood. Is it appropriate for Miss Reed to move in? Mrs. Blackwood would be heartbroken if she knew.”