She had the hacker on standby, ready to strike at the perfect moment against Isabella.

Her plans were far too crucial to abandon now.

Ethan paused, his brow furrowing slightly as her suggestion caught his attention.

“Why wasn’t she eating?” he asked, his voice laced with subtle curiosity and a trace of concern.

“Maybe she finds the food here too bland. I’ve heard people who aren’t feeling well sometimes crave stronger flavors,” Sophia explained, her tone dripping with feigned worry.

She moved gracefully toward the staircase.

“I’ll go check on Isabella.” She tossed the remark over her shoulder casually as she ascended, leaving Ethan alone with his thoughts.

Inside, Sophia smirked. She couldn’t wait to see how Isabella would try to wiggle out of this one.

Reaching Isabella’s door, she raised her hand and knocked firmly.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Her knocks were insistent and forceful.

“Isabella? Isabella!” she called, her voice growing louder and more urgent with each rap.

Inside her room, Isabella scowled in irritation. What was Sophia up to now?

As the knocking continued, Isabella’s stress levels soared.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sound intensified, echoing through the room.

Unable to tolerate it any longer, Isabella stood up abruptly, marched to the door, and yanked it open.

“What do you want?”

Her tone was icy, her gaze sharp enough to cut through Sophia’s facade.

Startled by Isabella’s fierce reaction, Sophia took a step back.

But she quickly recovered, her smile returning.

“Isabella, are you okay? Why did it take you so long to answer?” Sophia’s voice oozed false concern, her eyes glinting with smug satisfaction.

Isabella responded with a cold glare, saying nothing.

Just then, Ethan appeared.

He saw Isabella by the door, her expression tense and her eyes steely, which only deepened his worry.

“What’s going on here?” he asked, stepping closer to Isabella with clear concern.

Ignoring Ethan, Isabella kept her cold tone directed at Sophia. “What do you really want?”

Sophia maintained her fake look of concern. “I’m just worried about you, Isabella. You skipped lunch, so I thought I’d check on you.” She added, “Mrs. Blackwood mentioned that those feeling unwell might prefer spicier or more acidic foods to stimulate their appetite, since our meals are rather bland.”

Ethan’s expression darkened slightly. He said firmly to Isabella, “Go eat.”

He reached for her arm, intending to guide her downstairs.

Isabella pulled her arm away swiftly and responded coldly, “I’m not going.”

Ethan lost his temper, his demeanor turning cold as he scooped Isabella into his arms and carried her decisively downstairs.

“Let me go!” Isabella fought back with all her strength.