Isabella Valentine stood frozen in the middle of the road as the black Maybach sped toward her.

The car was moving at a terrifying speed.

The headlights blinded her.

Her legs trembled, her throat tightened—she couldn’t even scream.

Boom!

A silver sports car swerved in, slamming into the Maybach and forcing it to a screeching halt.

The sound of tires skidding pierced the air.

Isabella collapsed to the ground, urine soaking her legs.

Ethan Sullivan stepped out of the silver car.

Dressed in a crisp suit, his expression was dark as storm clouds.

"Have you lost your mind?" Ethan rapped on the sports car’s window.

Kyle Grant removed his sunglasses. "She doesn’t deserve to die."

"She killed my child."

"Then let her suffer a fate worse than death."

Kyle got out, locking eyes with Ethan.

Two towering men faced each other in the middle of the street, the air between them thick with tension.

"I have a better plan," Kyle said in a low voice. "Victoria Windsor has a lover in the police department."

Ethan narrowed his eyes.

"Salvatore Lombardi—deputy chief of the coastal precinct." Kyle handed him a file. "Everything you need is here."

Ethan flipped through the documents, his frown deepening.

"You handle him," Kyle said, taking the file back. "Leave Isabella to me."

"Why help me?"

Kyle gazed into the distance. "She deserves a better life."

Ethan scoffed. "Don’t expect my gratitude."

"I don’t need it."

Kyle turned and drove off without another word.

Ethan remained standing, dialing his assistant. "Investigate Salvatore Lombardi. Focus on his real estate holdings."

After hanging up, he walked into a nearby supermarket.

He lingered in front of the feminine hygiene aisle for a long time.

Finally, he picked the most expensive brand.

The cashier stole several glances at him as he checked out.

Back in the hospital room, Sophia Laurent was staring blankly out the window.

"Here." Ethan placed the shopping bag on the bedside table.

Sophia opened it and froze.

"Wasn’t sure which kind you preferred." He turned away. "Make do."

Her eyes reddened. "Stop this..."

"Even after divorce, we’re still family." His voice was soft. "The law considers ex-spouses immediate relatives."

Sophia buried her face in her hands.

Three mornings later, Ethan received a call.

"Mr. Sullivan, we’ve uncovered eight properties under Salvatore Lombardi’s name."

"Send the evidence to Chief Gao."

As soon as he hung up, a text arrived: Look outside.

An ambulance screamed into view.

The person on the stretcher was covered in blood, their face unrecognizable.

But Ethan knew instantly—it was Isabella.

He closed the curtains and pulled Sophia into his arms.

Her frail body trembled against his chest.

"It’s over," he whispered in her ear.