Isabella lowered her gaze, her long lashes hiding the turbulent emotions within.

Sophia had lied to her.

Christopher’s voice broke through her thoughts. “Miss Scott, are you completely certain about not renewing the contract?” His tone was careful, but a thread of hope ran beneath it. “Blackwood Enterprises would be fortunate to retain someone with your talent.”

She took a slow breath, steadying herself before meeting his eyes. “Mr. Gray, I truly value the opportunity,” she said, her voice firm. “But this chapter is over. It’s time for me to move on.”

There was no hesitation. No room for discussion.

She stood with quiet dignity and offered a polite nod. “I’ll be leaving now.”

Christopher watched her go, exhaling softly as his fingers tapped the desk.

What a waste.

Her storage-room office smelled of dust and old metal. The flickering light above cast long, shifting shadows. Isabella stumbled inside, gripping a shelf to keep her balance.

Her mind spun, thoughts tangling into knots.

Hannah… The name was like a knife buried deep in her heart.

If it hadn’t been for Ethan… maybe, Liam…

A dark thought tried to surface, but she pushed it down. She shut her eyes, forcing it away. A slow breath escaped her lips. It was over. At least for now.

She moved to her desk with quiet resolve. Carefully, she rolled up her design drafts, secured them with a band, and placed them in a worn canvas bag.

Then—

A soft creak echoed through the room.

The door eased open, light flooding the dim space. A figure stepped inside. It was Benjamin.

“Mrs. Blackwood, Mr. Blackwood requests your presence in his office.” Benjamin’s voice was calm and respectful.

Isabella lifted her eyes, ice glinting in them. “What does Mr. Blackwood want now? Our cooperation should be finished, shouldn’t it?”

Benjamin hesitated, a flicker of unease crossing his face before he regained control. “I’m only following orders, Mrs. Blackwood.”

“Mrs. Blackwood?” Isabella released a dry, empty laugh. She repeated the title as if it were absurd. “Mr. Clark, do me a favor—don’t call me that again. A name that was never acknowledged three years ago means nothing now.”

Her voice was steady, but beneath it simmered emotions she refused to release. She exhaled sharply, unwilling to waste another moment here. The air felt heavy and suffocating.

“Fine,” she muttered. “Let’s go.” She turned and walked toward the exit.

Benjamin followed closely behind, wisely staying silent.

The top-floor office was bathed in warm sunlight pouring through floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. Ethan sat behind his large desk, his back to the door, shoulders tense, posture rigid.

A soft knock broke the silence. Benjamin entered. “Mr. Blackwood, she’s here.”

Slowly, Ethan turned his chair, his eyes locking with Isabella’s.

“Just tell me why I’m here,” she said, her voice calm but cold. “Oh, and one more thing—if you have time, let’s finally make the divorce official.”