His tone held a sharp edge, but the underlying worry was unmistakable.

Isabella’s fingers curled tightly, her nails digging half-moons into her skin.

If Sophia’s illness took a turn for the worse, it would be convenient. She wouldn't need to lift a finger.

Just then, the master bedroom door swung open.

Isabella stood there, pale as parchment. A thin layer of sweat coated her forehead. She looked utterly drained.

“How many times must I say it? I don’t want any food,” she whispered, her voice weak and shaking with irritation.

Ethan’s expression softened instantly. He moved closer, reaching out to feel her temperature.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. But Isabella turned her face away, her features shadowed with pain and defiance.

Her lips pressed into a thin, bitter line.

His cruelty yesterday had shattered her. The emotional stress triggered pregnancy complications and this raging fever.

This was all his doing. And now he pretended to care? Did he really think she would just forgive him? Not a chance.

“Just go away,” she stated, her voice icy and detached, cutting through the heavy silence.

Ethan’s attention snapped to Margaret, who stood nearby looking uneasy. “Margaret, prepare some clear broth,” he ordered firmly.

His eyes briefly flicked to Sophia, standing a short distance away. He dismissed her with a single glance before turning his full focus back to Isabella, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Go back to bed. I’m calling the doctor.”

Panic seized Isabella’s heart, forcing a desperate, reckless reply.

“No!” The word trembled out, betraying her fear. “I just need to rest. I’ll be fine after I sweat it out.”

The idea of a doctor terrified her.

It would reveal her pregnancy—a secret she was certain Ethan would never accept.

This child was her last hope and her greatest weakness.

Ethan’s frown deepened with frustration.

“You’ve been vomiting, and now you have a high fever. You’re clearly sick, yet you refuse a doctor. What are you hiding from me?” His voice was demanding, layered with concern and impatience.

Isabella avoided his gaze, her eyes shifting nervously, unable to meet his intense stare.

“It’s nothing,” she lied, her voice a strained attempt at calm. “I just… don’t like doctors prying into my business.”

From the sidelines, Sophia watched the tense exchange, jealousy and resentment simmering inside her.

She lowered her eyes, hiding the storm within.

Did Isabella really think this pathetic act would win Ethan’s sympathy? She was even more foolish than she appeared.

Ethan, his face an unreadable mask, pulled out his phone. His fingers moved swiftly across the screen as he placed a call.

“You’ve been under Daniel’s care before. It’s just a routine check-up. Why the resistance now?” he questioned, his voice deceptively smooth.

At the mention of “Daniel,” a wave of visible relief washed over Isabella. Daniel was one of the few who knew about her pregnancy and had promised to keep it confidential.

She trusted him completely. The thought of his presence immediately calmed her frayed nerves.