“No explanations are necessary, Lucas. He means nothing to me now,” Isabella stated, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Are you hurt? Do you need medical attention?”

Her concern was palpable as she moved closer, carefully examining Lucas’s face for any sign of injury. A wave of relief washed over her when she found none. The thought of him being harmed because of her filled her with a deep, sickening guilt.

But for Ethan, watching this intimate moment was like pouring gasoline on a fire. A raw, consuming jealousy erupted inside him.

He moved without warning, his hand closing around Isabella’s wrist in a tight, unyielding grip, and he pulled her forcefully toward the elevator.

“What are you doing? Release me!” Her protest was sharp, laced with anger as she tried to pry his fingers away, but his hold was like iron.

“Ethan, stop this!” Lucas stepped forward, his voice a mix of command and concern, trying to intervene.

He was met only with a glacial stare from Ethan that made him freeze in place.

Ethan’s fury didn’t subside as he hauled her down the corridor to her apartment door.

He shoved her away from him and kicked the door open with such violent force it shuddered on its hinges, the wood splintering.

Rubbing her sore wrist, Isabella shot a furious look at the damaged door before turning her blazing eyes back to him.

“Have you completely lost your mind?” she demanded, her voice trembling with rage and pain.

“Lost my mind?” he echoed, his voice dripping with mocking contempt. “Why were you with him?”

His sudden proximity, combined with the intoxicating scent of his cologne, snapped her back to the harsh reality.

“Are you stalking me now?” Her words were sharp, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

He let out a derisive scoff instead of answering. “Why, feeling guilty about something?”

“Why would I feel guilty?” she shot back, her defiance clear. “Our divorce is practically final. Who I see is none of your concern. Haven’t you moved on already?”

“Divorce?” His voice was thick with disbelief, as if the word itself was absurd. “Isabella, I’ve made myself clear—until those papers are signed, nothing changes.” A cold dread seeped into her heart.

“Why the hell should I care about what you say?”

“Well.” He closed the distance, his body pinning hers against the broken door, a solid, immovable force. “Because I’m still your husband!”

With those words, his mouth came down on hers in a fierce, punishing kiss.

It was relentless—hard and demanding.

She pushed against his chest with all her strength, but his arms were like steel bands around her.

“Ethan, have you gone completely insane?”

She finally managed to shove him back, her tongue instinctively darting out to soothe her stinging, swollen lips.

Ethan’s eyes burned with a dark, almost predatory intensity. “Isabella, you’re playing with fire,” he growled, his voice rough, his hand possessively splayed on the small of her back. The air crackled with unspoken tension, a silent prelude to the coming storm.

Her heart hammered against her ribs, a torrent of conflicting emotions flooding her system.

“Ethan, get a grip. You’re in love with Sophia. She’s back, and yet you’re here, trying to cling to me. What do you think I am?”