Chapter 94
Well, isn’t this just typical.
Isabella Sinclair couldn’t help but scoff at Ethan Blackwood’s audacious request.
She had only one pill left—enough for a single person.
Even if Alexander Kingsley was no longer in the picture, giving it to Eleanor Blackwood was out of the question.
She had made herself perfectly clear on the day of their divorce: she and Ethan were done.
Bridges burned. Paths diverged.
And now, Ethan and Eleanor had the nerve to come begging for her help?
The sheer audacity.
“I only have one pill, and it’s already promised to someone else,” Isabella replied coolly.
Ethan, on the other end of the line, clearly didn’t buy it.
“What a convenient excuse,” he snapped. “If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable.”
Isabella’s voice turned icy. “Ethan, regardless of our past, I don’t owe you or your mother anything. She was never kind to me.”
Her grip on the phone tightened. “The label on this medication clearly states it’s produced by MDH Pharmaceuticals. Your family isn’t short on funds—book a flight and get it yourselves. There’s no need to grovel at my feet.”
“You think I haven’t tried?” Ethan’s temper flared, his voice sharp with frustration. “That research institute is a ghost. No one sees them. No one hears from them. I’ve been turned away at their doors more times than I can count. They won’t even grant me an audience.”
He took a deep breath, forcing his tone to soften. “They’re leaving us with no options. If you won’t give us the pill, at least help me get the medication.”
Isabella laughed—bitter, amused.
“You come begging for help, yet you act so entitled. As if I owe you something.” Her voice dripped with disdain. “Over the years, I’ve given more than enough. You know where the institute is. If I decide to help, it’s out of kindness—not obligation. Don’t you dare demand anything from me.”
She hung up without another word.
Click.
Ethan stared at the blank screen, his jaw clenched. He tried calling back, but her phone was already off.
Furious, he hurled his phone against the wall, shattering it into pieces.
Eleanor’s agonized screams echoed through the house, amplifying his helplessness.
He stormed into the next room, his expression dark. “Mom, Isabella lied. She refuses to give us the medication.”
Eleanor, already writhing in pain from her relentless headache, exploded.
“That heartless witch!” she shrieked. “She was always so meek and obedient—now she flaunts her cruelty! After everything I did for her, this is how she repays me? Ungrateful wretch!”
The maids froze in terror, not daring to breathe too loudly.
Sophia Kensington, who had been massaging Eleanor’s temples, winced as her hands ached from the relentless pressure. Her eardrums throbbed from Eleanor’s screams.
Seizing the opportunity to twist the knife, Sophia sighed dramatically. “How could Isabella be so cold? After all the kindness you showed her… and now, when you’re in pain, she won’t even spare a single pill. It’s truly heartless.”
Eleanor’s rage intensified. “Not only does she refuse, but she lies to our faces!”
Before Sophia could continue, a teacup flew past her face, shattering against the wall.
“I’m in agony, and you’re just standing there gossiping!” Eleanor screamed, clutching her head as if it might split open. She shoved Sophia’s hands away. “Isabella is nothing but a selfish ingrate! She watches me suffer and does nothing!”
Her anger only worsened the pain, and she let out another piercing scream.
She turned to Ethan, her eyes burning with desperation. “Ethan, I don’t care what it takes—you will get that medicine from Isabella! I can’t endure this any longer!”
Her glare shifted to Sophia, her lip curling in disgust. “And you—useless! Your hands are worthless. You can’t even compare to Isabella!”
Sophia’s face fell, humiliation burning in her chest. She glanced at Ethan, her eyes welling with tears.
Ethan sighed, torn between frustration and pity. “Mom, no matter how angry you are, don’t take it out on Sophia.”
Eleanor’s headache spiked. The way Ethan defended Sophia, the way they stood there—ignoring her suffering—sent her into a frenzy.
With a furious sweep of her arm, she sent every cup and plate on the table crashing to the floor.
“What good are either of you?” she shrieked. “I’m in unbearable pain, and you two just stand there whispering sweet nothings! If you don’t get me that medication, don’t blame me for what I do next!”
