"My gown..." Isabella murmured softly, pitching her voice to carry just enough. "Sophia, are you all right?"

Ethan's attention snapped toward her instantly, concern flashing in his gaze.

His voice was thick with worry. His eyes scanned her as though she might shatter.

"I'm so sorry, Isabella. I never meant to spill champagne on you..." Sophia released a soft, breathy sigh. She added with a pained wince, "I think I've twisted my ankle."

"It's nothing," Isabella said coolly, already turning to leave. "I'll go change." She seized the opening, desperate to escape the suffocating tension. But as she pivoted, Ethan's hand shot out. His fingers closed around her wrist with surprising force.

"I'm coming with you."

A jolt of panic shot through Isabella. She yanked her wrist, trying to break his grip.

"Unnecessary. I can manage alone," she replied, forcing her tone to remain steady even as urgency clawed at her throat. She needed to get out. Now.

But before she could move, Sophia gasped sharply. Her hand flew to her chest. She staggered, her face draining of color.

"Ethan... my chest... it's agony..." Her voice was a strained whisper, weak and thready, as if she might collapse.

Ethan's focus snapped to her immediately. His grip on Isabella loosened. He rushed to Sophia's side, slipping an arm around her trembling frame.

"Sophia, what's happening? Talk to me!"

Guests, drawn by the sudden disturbance, crowded closer. Their murmurs quickly swelled.

"What's wrong with Miss Reed?"

"Should someone call a doctor?"

"Perhaps she needs to go to the hospital—now!"

While every eye was fixed on Sophia's dramatic performance, Isabella edged toward the rear of the hall. Without a backward glance, she slipped through a service door and into the cool night.

She broke into a run. Her breath came in sharp, ragged pulls. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird.

Every few strides, Isabella glanced over her shoulder, terrified that Ethan might be pursuing her.

Then she remembered—with Sophia putting on such a spectacle, Ethan's mind would be wholly occupied. Isabella exhaled a shaky breath, realizing her fear was outpacing reality.

Once the hotel's noise and light faded behind her, she slowed to a walk, catching her breath. With trembling fingers, she pulled out her phone and quickly dialed Lucas.

"Lucas, I'm at the hotel's rear entrance. Can you send someone for me?" Isabella's voice wavered slightly, but she fought to steady it.

"Understood. I'll arrange it immediately," Lucas replied, his calm tone a steady anchor in her rising anxiety.

Just as she ended the call, a sudden screech of tires撕裂 the quiet night.

A black sedan barreled around the corner at a terrifying speed, its headlights blinding. Isabella had barely a second to react before a crushing impact slammed into her, lifting her off her feet.

Pain exploded through her body as she hit the pavement hard. Her phone flew from her grasp, skittering across the concrete.

A raw cry of agony tore from her lips. Her vision blurred. Darkness crept in from the edges.