The woman remained completely unaware of Isabella’s unease, continuing to admire the ring with relentless fervor.

Isabella managed a faint, strained smile, opting not to engage further.

Then, a voice she recognized instantly cut through the chatter. “Isabella, come here.” Ethan’s tone was firm, yet calming. Relief flooded through her like a cool breeze. She turned immediately and moved toward him.

“What is it?” she asked softly, stepping closer to his side.

“Olivia’s here. Let’s go greet her.”

Only then did Isabella notice the stunning woman in a crimson gown standing a short distance away. Olivia Sterling.

The deep red fabric hugged her curves flawlessly. Her rich, wavy hair tumbled over her shoulders. Her scarlet lips curved into a sly, knowing smile.

Isabella straightened her posture and approached with practiced elegance. “Ms. Sterling, it’s wonderful to see you.”

“Goodness! Isabella Scott, the brilliant designer!” Olivia exclaimed, pulling her into a light, friendly embrace. “You look absolutely stunning tonight, my dear.” As she stepped back, her eyes flickered playfully between Isabella and Ethan, her smile turning enigmatic—a mix of amusement and curiosity.

“And Mr. Blackwood…” She tilted her head, smirking. “Exceptionally handsome this evening.”

Ethan responded with a faint, unreadable smile, offering no verbal reply.

Olivia’s eyes glittered with mischief. “My, my… The two of you together—it’s almost too perfect.” She released a teasing sigh. “Such an elegant pair. Truly a sight to behold.”

Isabella wasn’t sure whether to acknowledge the comment or pretend she hadn’t heard it.

Ever perceptive, Olivia raised her champagne flute casually, her gaze dancing between them. A knowing smile played on her lips, brimming with amusement.

“Mr. Blackwood, no matter how much I pressed before, you never revealed a thing. So you’ve been keeping secrets after all.” She took a slow sip of champagne, her voice laced with playful accusation. “Finally decided to introduce her to everyone, hm?”

Isabella felt her cheeks grow warm. She shifted slightly, tugging at her dress as if it could offer some protection from the attention.

A quick glance at Ethan provided no comfort—his expression remained frustratingly composed.

Unexpectedly, his eyes drifted to the glass in Olivia’s hand, his tone effortlessly smooth. “I heard you’ve taken quite an interest in Enrique Craig.”

Olivia’s confident demeanor faltered. Her fingers tightened around the delicate stem of her glass, the liquid inside trembling slightly.

Her eyes widened, the playful glint replaced by shock. “How… how did you know that?”

Ethan didn’t answer. He merely arched a brow, a faint, knowing smirk touching his lips.

Olivia cleared her throat, quickly regaining her poise. She exhaled and waved a dismissive hand, swiftly changing the subject. “Isabella, darling, that necklace is exquisite! Wherever did you find it?”

Before Isabella could respond, a waiter hurried past, balancing a tray filled with wine glasses.

Perhaps out of nervousness—or plain bad luck—his hand shook, tilting the tray just enough to send a glass of deep red wine tumbling downward.