Chloe studied Isabella with a worried expression. Her brow furrowed deeply. "Still thinking about work? You really need to rest," she advised gently. "Let's head home together."

"No, I still have some unfinished matters," Isabella replied, her voice heavy with fatigue.

She desperately needed some alone time to sort through her tangled thoughts. After Chloe left, Isabella remained in the quiet office a while longer before finally gathering her things to leave.

Darkness had completely fallen over the city outside. Despite the glittering lights and constant flow of traffic, a sharp sense of loneliness pierced through her.

She wandered aimlessly through the streets. The sharp click of her heels echoed loudly on the pavement. The last remnants of sunset stretched her shadow long and thin across the ground.

Suddenly, the screech of brakes cut through the air near her. An unseen force slammed into her side, sending her crashing onto the hard sidewalk. A jolt of searing pain shot through her ankle, forcing a sharp gasp from her lips.

"Watch where you're going! Are you blind?" The angry voice came from a young man on a motorcycle. His hair was dyed a shocking shade of bright yellow. He glared down at her, his black leather jacket reflecting the dim streetlights.

Gritting her teeth against the pain, Isabella tried to push herself up. Her hands trembled violently.

"This day just keeps getting worse," the young man muttered with clear disdain. He revved his engine loudly and sped off into the night.

Isabella remained sitting on the cold pavement. Tears traced wet paths down her cheeks. She felt utterly abandoned, as if the entire world had turned its back on her. Her ankle throbbed with persistent, sharp pain. She reached for her phone, her heart sinking when she discovered the battery was completely dead.

At that moment, the smooth purr of an engine caught her attention. A sleek black Bentley glided to a stop right in front of her. Its presence seemed almost surreal under the dim streetlight.

The window descended silently. Revealing a man with strikingly handsome features and an air of undeniable elegance—it was Ethan.

What was he doing here?

Isabella's mind raced. Her heart fluttered with a confusing mix of dread and unexpected hope.

"Get in," Ethan commanded. His voice was deep and compelling, carrying that familiar authority that always sent shivers down her spine.

Isabella hesitated. Her thoughts immediately flashed to Sophia's recent Instagram post. This very car had been used to chauffeur Sophia just the previous night.

Was he here for Sophia again?

The possibility stung deeply. Sending a fresh wave of sorrow through her already fragile emotions.

With defiant resolve, she bit her lip and turned her head away. Unwilling to let Ethan see the vulnerability in her eyes.

"I said, get in," Ethan repeated. His tone carried a sharper edge of impatience now.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Isabella pushed herself to her feet. Her injured ankle protested painfully as she limped slightly.

"That won't be necessary, Mr. Blackwood. I can manage on my own," she declared. Her voice remained steady despite the turmoil raging inside her.

Whatever they had was over—she wanted him completely out of her life. But after just a few steps, a firm grip locked around her wrist, stopping her in her tracks.

She glanced back—Ethan had exited the car and wasn't letting go. His imposing figure loomed over her. His voice carried a quiet hint of annoyance. "Isabella, what's the drama about this time?"

A pang of sorrow tightened around Isabella's heart.

She jerked her hand away forcefully. Straightening her posture, she masked her pain with a veneer of cool detachment. "You really think too highly of yourself, don't you? We're getting divorced. The last thing I need is any drama that might confuse your precious sweetheart."