The air was thick with tension as I stepped into the grand ballroom of the Blackwood estate. Crystal chandeliers cast shimmering reflections across marble floors, while the scent of gardenias mingled with expensive perfume. My fingers tightened around the stem of my champagne flute, the cold glass grounding me in this sea of polished smiles and veiled glances.
Eleanor Blackwood’s piercing gaze found me across the room, her lips curling into that familiar disapproving frown. Three years since the divorce, yet her disdain for me remained as fresh as the day Ethan first brought me home. I forced myself to take another sip, the bubbles stinging my throat.
“Darling, you look positively radiant.” Olivia Montgomery materialized at my elbow, her emerald gown swishing as she leaned in. “Though I’d kill to know why William insisted you attend tonight of all nights.”
Before I could respond, the crowd parted like the Red Sea. There he stood – Ethan Blackwood in his custom Tom Ford tuxedo, his new fiancĂ©e Sophia Kensington clinging to his arm like designer accessory. The diamond on her finger caught the light, nearly blinding in its ostentation.
A hush fell over the room as William Blackwood ascended the staircase, his cane tapping rhythmically against the steps. When he reached the landing, his voice carried through the sudden silence. “Before we begin tonight’s festivities, there’s a family matter requiring attention.”
My pulse quickened when his aged eyes locked onto mine. “Isabella, my dear, would you join me?”
Every head swiveled in my direction. Sophia’s perfectly sculpted eyebrows shot upward while Ethan’s jaw clenched visibly. Olivia gave my arm an encouraging squeeze as I moved forward, the sea of guests whispering behind their hands.
William’s gnarled fingers closed around mine as I reached him. With deliberate slowness, he withdrew a velvet box from his pocket. The collective gasp when he opened it could’ve powered a small city.
The Ruby Jade pendant glowed like liquid fire against its satin bed – the Blackwood family’s most treasured heirloom, last worn by Ethan’s grandmother on her wedding day.
“Some treasures,” William announced to the stunned assembly, “are meant for those who truly understand their worth.”
Sophia’s champagne flute shattered on the marble below.
“I’ve filed for divorce.”
Ethan Blackwood’s voice cut through the silence like a blade, his impatience radiating off him in waves.
“Four million should be enough for you to start over.”
Isabella Sinclair’s fingers curled into her palms, her nails biting into her skin as she fought to keep her composure. The scent of roasted garlic and herbs still clung to her clothes, her hair hastily tied back with a simple clip. Loose strands framed her face, a stark contrast to the elegant updo she had envisioned for tonight.
“Today is our third anniversary,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Can’t we at least finish dinner together?”
She had spent hours in the kitchen, preparing every dish he loved—rosemary-crusted lamb, truffle-infused risotto, dark chocolate soufflé. All for nothing.
Ethan scoffed, his gaze cold and detached. “Even if we sit through this meal, it won’t change anything. Sophia is back.”
At the mention of Sophia Kensington, his expression softened—something Isabella had never seen directed at her, no matter how hard she tried. She had cared for his parents, managed his household, erased every trace of her past brilliance to be the perfect wife. And yet, Sophia had only to return, and he was ready to discard her without hesitation.
Isabella gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles turning white. “Does your grandfather know?”
Ethan let out a mocking laugh. “Don’t hide behind him. He’s in the hospital—he doesn’t need the stress. My parents already approve. In fact, Sophia had dinner with them tonight.”
Her stomach twisted. She had just secured an exclusive contract with Cobweb, the most elusive intelligence network in the world—a deal that could have saved the Blackwood empire. But none of it mattered now.
“So, Sophia is at your parents’ house?” Her voice cracked.
“Obviously.” A faint smile touched his lips, as if the mere thought of Sophia brightened his world. “They adore her. Said she’s everything a Blackwood wife should be.”
Thoughtful. Understanding. The words burned. Her own parents had once said the same about her.
Ethan checked his watch, his irritation growing. “Look, I didn’t plan this to hurt you. The staff forgot to mention she was coming. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
His eyes flicked over her—delicate features, flawless skin, eyes that had once sparkled with intelligence. But to him, she was just… boring. Predictable. The perfect homemaker, yes, but suffocating.
“You’re leaving tonight,” he said flatly. Then, as an afterthought, “Take the penthouse at Starfish Vista. Consider it yours.”
Isabella almost laughed. She didn’t need his money. As one of the most sought-after hackers in the world, she could buy a dozen penthouses if she wanted.
But what she couldn’t buy was the past—the memory of a boy who had carried her through the dark when she was blind and helpless. A boy who had whispered his name like a promise: Ethan Blackwood.
Now, that same boy was shoving her out of his life.
“I’ll go,” she said, standing abruptly. Her voice was steady, but her eyes burned. “From now on, we’re strangers.”
Ethan exhaled, relief flashing across his face. “Good.”
As if on cue, the housekeeper, Victoria Chamberlain, appeared at the top of the stairs, struggling with a suitcase.
“Sir, her parents called—they said Mrs. Sinclair needs to leave immediately, so I packed her things—Oh!”
With a dramatic gasp, she pretended to twist her ankle, the suitcase tumbling down the steps.
Clothes, books, a framed photo of their wedding day—everything spilled across the floor.
Isabella didn’t flinch.She simply turned and walked away.
