Chapter 248
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ethan bristled at the mention of the word heir.
It struck a nerve, like kicking a hornet’s nest.
His temper flared, but when it came to Isabella, he always felt powerless.
She knew exactly how to push his buttons, and in front of this crowd, he was stuck between biting his tongue or trading sharp remarks.
Isabella, of course, didn’t miss a beat.
“Mr. Blackwood, I hear you have two very capable younger brothers. So, who knows? Maybe the next head of the Blackwood family isn’t set in stone yet. But when the day comes, I’ll send my congratulations.”
The barb hit its mark, and Ethan stiffened.
Congratulations from her? He didn’t need them, nor did he want them.
Only the urge to wipe that calm expression off her face gnawed at him.
Sophia, always quick to stir the pot, piped up, “Isabella, that’s harsh! You were once married to Ethan, after all. Isn’t it cruel to say things like this just to hurt him?” Her words dripped with false concern, but deep down, she hoped the rift between them would widen.
Lately, Ethan had been distant, distracted by thoughts of Isabella, and it gnawed at her, stirring up insecurity.
“And, Isabella,” Sophia continued, “did you show up today just to throw him off his game? After all, you spent years playing the dutiful housewife and dealing with health issues. Even William mentioned how fragile you were. So why on earth would you compete now?”
She’d done her homework, digging into Isabella’s past with the Blackwood family, though she was unaware of Isabella’s hidden abilities. But the gossip was easy enough to find—stories of how Isabella had followed Ethan like a shadow during their early days of marriage.
One incident had stood out: the day they went skating.
He had shoved her aside with such casual disdain that she ended up sprawled on the ice.
That fall hadn’t just sprained her ankle; it had left her with a high fever for days.
The memory darkened Ethan’s expression, his frown deepening.
Sophia’s words stirred something inside him.
“Isabella,” he started, his voice softer than usual, “if this is about getting back at me, you don’t have to risk yourself. Short-track skating isn’t like the casual stuff you might have done before.”
He knew full well that the incident at the rink had been his fault. His anger at Sophia’s departure had been misdirected, and Isabella had borne the brunt of it.
He’d thought about apologizing briefly, but his pride had gotten in the way.
Back then, it hadn’t mattered how he treated her—Isabella always came back, no questions asked.
But now, she seemed… different.
Her detachment was unnerving, even frightening.
Olivia, standing nearby, let out a scoff, unable to hold back her amusement.
“Really, Ethan? You think this competition is life or death for her? Get over yourself!”
The story of the rink incident was something Ethan had exaggerated in his own mind. Olivia, however, assumed it was just another one of his inflated tales.
Her smirk was as sharp as her words.
“Only someone with two left feet would think a little competition is dangerous!”
Ethan’s face flushed with anger.
“Miss Montgomery, watch your mouth!”
For a moment, he had believed that Olivia was above Isabella’s level. He had thought that Isabella had somehow manipulated her.
But now, standing there, watching the two of them, he realized they were cut from the same cloth—sharp, brazen, and infuriating!
“Ethan, let me make this clear,” Isabella said, her voice steady and final. “I’m done with you. Revenge is the last thing on my mind. You’ve already disappointed me enough.”
Ethan’s brow furrowed in confusion.
“You’re lying. If you’re not here to settle the score, then why show up?”
A sneer tugged at Isabella’s lips.
“You really think everything revolves around you, don’t you?”
Her tone dripped with contempt, and the coldness in her gaze was unmistakable.
It hit Ethan in a way he wasn’t prepared for.
He could’ve handled anger, even hatred—those would have been easier to swallow, because they hinted at some remnant of care.
But this? This icy disregard? It twisted inside him.
Isabella’s voice took on a mocking edge.
“Ethan, maybe you should focus less on me and more on Miss Kensington. Aren’t you worried she’ll get jealous?”
True to form, Sophia’s face tightened with suppressed rage, though she managed a tight-lipped smile.
“Of course not! I can’t possibly get jealous! I trust Ethan completely.”
Inside, though? She was boiling.
