Isabella stumbled back, landing hard on the damp grass.

Sophia’s voice cut through the evening air. “Stay out of my business.”

She snatched the contract from the ground, brushed it clean, and walked away without looking back.

Isabella’s gaze followed her, dark and intense. She stood slowly, dusting off her clothes. A sly smile touched her lips. “You think you’ve won, Sophia?”

She pulled out her phone and dialed. “I need everything on Isabella’s plans for that office. Every detail.”

Exhausted, Isabella returned to her grandmother’s apartment as dusk settled. Her heart jumped when she saw Ethan’s black car parked nearby.

Anxiety twisted inside her. She tried to slip around the building quietly but ran straight into him at the entrance.

Ethan leaned against the doorframe, hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable but expectant. Isabella’s grip on her folder tightened, her knuckles turning white.

“Why are you here again?” she asked, her voice tight.

Ethan’s eyes dropped to the folder. “Running errands for Lucas now?”

She took a steadying breath. “This isn’t your concern, Ethan.” She tried to move past him, desperate to get inside.

He caught her wrist firmly. “Three years, Isabella. Three years. You owe me an answer. Why did you leave? Was being my wife that unbearable?”

She yanked her hand free and laughed coldly. “Yes. I never wanted to be your wife. Did you really think—”

“Isn’t that what every woman dreams of?” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, defiance burning behind them.

“We’ve been separated for three years, Ethan. We’re divorced. There’s nothing left. Leave me alone.”

“You’ve changed. Who gave you this new confidence? Lucas?” Ethan’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

Isabella stared back with pure hatred. He had never seen such fire in her eyes before.

Their tense moment broke when a neighbor approached, smiling warmly. “Hi Isabella, just getting home?”

Instantly, Isabella’s expression softened into a bright smile. “Yes, were you shopping?” Her tone was light and cheerful.

Ethan watched from the side, irritation simmering.

He scoffed. “You’ve gotten good at switching masks.”

Without another word, he turned and walked away.