Chapter 75
The Blackwood estate was cloaked in the predawn darkness when Ethan Blackwood barged into the private physician’s quarters, dragging the half-asleep man from his bed to examine Sophia Kensington.
After a tense examination, the doctor finally removed his stethoscope. “Mr. Blackwood, Miss Kensington is stable. She only ingested a small amount of water. With rest, she’ll recover fully.”
Ethan exhaled sharply, his rigid shoulders slumping as he collapsed into a nearby chair. The exhaustion of the day’s events crashed over him, his mind still racing to process everything. Gently, he tucked the blanket tighter around Sophia before stepping outside for air.
But the moment he crossed into the garden, Eleanor Blackwood materialized before him, a crystal glass of wine in hand, her presence as immovable as stone.
“What’s all this commotion? Sophia barely returns, and already she’s causing a scene in the dead of night,” Eleanor remarked, her tone deceptively warm. Only Ethan, who had spent a lifetime deciphering her moods, could detect the razor-sharp fury beneath.
“She hasn’t even settled in, and she’s already turned this household upside down. When Isabella was here, she never stirred up this kind of trouble.”
“Mother!” Ethan snapped, his patience fraying.
“And why raise your voice at me?” Eleanor’s words turned glacial. “You’ve already lost the Everett Group deal—what more can you afford to lose? I heard everything about today. Isn’t Sophia supposed to be some prodigy in perfumery? Yet she couldn’t handle a simple task. She even had the audacity to throw herself into a river?”
Ethan’s jaw clenched. Each word was a needle pressed into an open wound.
“So what if we lose Everett’s backing? I’m expanding our overseas markets,” he countered, voice low but firm. “Mother, trust me. I can handle this—”
Crack!
The slap came without warning, snapping Ethan’s head to the side. He pressed a hand to his stinging cheek, disbelief flashing in his eyes. Eleanor’s gaze was unyielding, cold as winter steel.
“How did I raise such a disappointment?” she hissed. “Your father’s mistress already bore him a son. For years, he’s funneled millions to that woman behind my back, and I’ve had to endure it!” Her voice trembled with suppressed rage. “So you will secure Everett’s support. Prove you’re the rightful heir of the Blackwood name.”
Ethan slowly lifted his head, wiping the blood from his lip with his thumb. His eyes burned with quiet defiance.
“If you truly cared, you’d see I’m doing everything to fix this. I’m not the failure you think I am.” He paused, then added bitterly, “Why haven’t you cut ties with the other men in your life? Or demanded a divorce? Why am I the one who has to be better?”
Crack! Another slap landed, harder this time.
“You dare speak to me like that?” Eleanor seethed, though a flicker of hesitation crossed her face at the ice in Ethan’s stare. “I’ve sacrificed everything for you. Raised you to take this family’s reins. Your grandfather never accepted me. Your father lives like a king. What choice do I have but to rely on you?”
Her voice cracked, and suddenly, she pulled him into an embrace, her sobs muffled against his shoulder. “If not for you, would I endure this humiliation? That woman flaunts herself in front of me. Why don’t I confront your father? Because I want your path to be easier. That’s why I swallow my pride. Ethan, you must understand my pain.”
The fight drained from Ethan. His mother’s words, heavy with decades of resentment, weighed on him. Sensing his hesitation, Eleanor cupped his face, her touch tender now.
“I’ve always adored Isabella. You know that. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have treated her like family. The two of you were married once—I see how she still looks at you. She loves you.” Her voice softened to a whisper. “So, Ethan, go to her. Convince Isabella to leave Everett Group. Whatever she wants, we’ll give it to her.”
The memory of today’s humiliation burned, but Eleanor’s pleading gaze was impossible to ignore. With a grimace, Ethan finally relented.
“…I’ll see what I can do.”
