Chapter 49
The golden afternoon sun cast long shadows across Golden Reef Bay as Olivia Montgomery maneuvered the sleek black sedan through the security checkpoint. A low whistle escaped her lips at the sea of reporters swarming the entrance.
“Jesus, it’s a full-blown media circus out here. The Blackwood Group really knows how to put on a show.”
This year’s International Perfume Awards had secured the most prestigious venue in all of Ontario. Though submissions were judged anonymously, the final ten contestants would be unveiled publicly—hence the army of journalists with cameras poised like hungry vultures.
“Let’s get inside,” Isabella Sinclair murmured, barely glancing at the flashing bulbs.
After presenting their gilt-edged invitations, the two women made their way to the contestants’ lounge where a small crowd had already gathered. Isabella’s sharp emerald gaze swept the room—then froze on two painfully familiar figures.
Her lips twisted. Just my luck.
Lately, it seemed Ethan Blackwood and Sophia Kensington appeared everywhere she went. Sophia was currently draped over Ethan’s arm like expensive fur, batting her lashes while whispering something that made him smirk.
“Ethan,” Sophia purred, “I heard the CEO of Charisma is competing too. What if my formula isn’t sophisticated enough?”
Ethan chuckled, patting her head with infuriating condescension. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re a prodigy. Besides, we only need top ten to secure that meeting with the Everett Group.”
“You’re too good to me!” Sophia clung to him like ivy.
Olivia barely suppressed a gag. “Some people really need mirrors.”
Sophia’s head snapped up at the barb. When she saw Olivia’s mocking grin, her cheeks flushed crimson.
Isabella remained impassive. “Careful, Liv. Trash has a way of staining everything it touches.”
Though spoken softly, the words carried like shards of ice. Ethan’s head jerked toward them, his gaze locking onto Isabella.
She wore a liquid silver gown that caught the light with every movement, paired with exclusive Louboutins. There was an untouchable elegance about her—regal and distant, as if mere eye contact was a privilege.
Ethan’s breath hitched. He’d never seen her like this. Compared to the soft pastels she’d favored during their marriage, this look wasn’t overtly seductive, yet it commanded attention in a way that left him inexplicably unsettled.
“Isabella! What a surprise,” Sophia trilled, noticing Ethan’s lingering stare. She dug her nails into his arm. “I had no idea you dabbled in perfumery. Though it is getting rather… crowded in here.”
Ethan’s expression darkened. “Is this another one of your ploys? I told you—no amount of scheming will make me reconsider.”
Olivia choked on her champagne. “Sweetheart, you’ve got looks, brains, and killer instincts. But this?” She gestured at Ethan. “This is the equivalent of a bad tattoo you can’t laser off.”
Isabella’s lips curved. “Youthful blindness is a curse.”
Now, divorced and free of rose-tinted delusions, she saw Ethan clearly—arrogant, self-absorbed, and painfully obtuse. He actually thought she was chasing him.
Ethan bristled at the twin looks of disdain. “First the gala, then the charity auction, now this? Stop orchestrating these coincidences. I won’t fall for your games.”
Olivia lost it. “Oh my God, listen to yourself! You think Isabella’s stalking you? That’s rich. You’re even more pathetic than I thought.” When Olivia unleashed her wit, few survived unscathed. “Honestly, you two deserve each other—a narcissist and his sycophant.”
Sophia’s face purpled. “You can’t talk to us like—”
“Like what? Truthfully?” Olivia arched a brow. “At least you recognize an insult when you hear one. Progress!”
Sophia clenched her jaw but stayed silent. Everyone knew Olivia Montgomery—heiress to the Montgomery real estate empire. Crossing her was professional suicide.
“Ethan’s here as my guest,” Sophia forced out. “I didn’t expect to see Isabella either. Fate works in mysterious ways, doesn’t it?”
The tension crackled like live wires as the announcement system blared to life, calling contestants to prepare. Isabella turned without another word, her gown shimmering like quicksilver.
Ethan watched her go, an unfamiliar tightness in his chest. Something had changed. The woman walking away bore no resemblance to the wife he’d dismissed.
And that unsettled him more than he cared to admit.
