Chapter 287
“Sophia, can you explain what just happened?” Ethan’s voice was heavy with emotion as he studied her face.
A storm of conflicting feelings raged inside him.
She had always been his safe harbor—gentle, understanding, the one who soothed his restless soul.
But now, the echoes of shouting and sobbing from their home grated on his nerves, stirring an unfamiliar irritation.
It was nothing like the peace he had once shared with Isabella. Their home had been a sanctuary, a place of quiet warmth.
Now, he was trapped in the middle—between his mother and his wife, between duty and desire, all while struggling to keep his empire intact.
“Ethan, it’s just a misunderstanding,” Sophia reassured him, her eyes flashing with quiet determination.
She knew exactly what Eleanor was trying to do, but she refused to play into her hands.
“You saw that brooch, didn’t you? It was a gift from someone else. It wouldn’t be right to regift it to your mother.”
Her gaze was wide and innocent, as if she had no idea of the storm brewing around them.
“I was going to pick something new for her, but I didn’t expect her to distrust me like this.”
Her eyes shimmered, red-rimmed from unshed tears, painting a heartbreaking picture. It reminded Ethan of the vow she had once made to him.
Ethan, I’m the only one who truly stands by you. I promise I’ll never leave, no matter what.
Guilt twisted in his chest.
Sophia had once been his salvation. How could he now feel this weariness toward the woman who had saved him?
He reached out, brushing a tear from her cheek with his thumb.
“Don’t cry. Of course I believe you.”
Watching her son comfort Sophia only fueled Eleanor’s fury.
“If it’s just a brooch, why hide it unless you have something to hide? Is it from some secret admirer?” Eleanor scoffed, shifting tactics with cold precision.
She was determined to drive a wedge between them.
“Sophia, remember—now that you’re my son’s wife, you must be careful with your actions.”
She deliberately dragged up the past, the humiliation of the wedding.
“Ethan isn’t like that pathetic excuse of a husband you had overseas. Don’t embarrass us again.”
Ethan’s expression darkened, his mood shifting like a storm gathering on the horizon.
“Mother, if you dare bring that up again, don’t blame me for turning against you.”
After the disaster at their wedding, Ethan had made it clear—no one in the Blackwood family was to mention Sophia’s past.
“Ethan, I’m only trying to protect you. If she could pull such a stunt, why should she be afraid of it being mentioned?” Eleanor snapped.
But when she saw the dangerous glint in her son’s eyes, she hesitated.
“Fine. Let’s drop the unpleasant details. Did you manage to get the Ruby Jade back from Isabella?”
At that, Ethan fell silent, frustration radiating off him in waves.
Ever since he had lost to Isabella in their last confrontation, her shadow had haunted him.
Sometimes, he dreamed of skating beside her again. Other times, he replayed memories of her nurturing warmth, her quiet strength.
But when he woke, those dreams slipped away like morning mist.
Lately, he had considered reaching out—not just for the jade.
He wanted to talk. About the past. About everything left unsaid between them.
But Isabella had cut him off completely.
Blocked. Erased. She wouldn’t even grant him an audience.
“I didn’t get it back,” Ethan muttered, his voice rough with suppressed anger. “She refuses to see me.”
Since Isabella had walked away, an exhaustion had settled deep in his bones.
It was as if a weight pressed down on his chest, draining him of all strength.
