They finally arrived at Isabella’s apartment building.

“Alright, you can go up now. I’ll head out,” Ethan said.

“Okay,” Isabella replied, turning toward the entrance.

“Wait, Isabella,” he called out.

She paused and looked back. “Is there something else?”

Ethan shifted slightly, a hint of awkwardness in his posture. “I’m a bit thirsty. Could I come up for a glass of water?”

The request took her by surprise.

She hadn’t expected this from him.

Was he serious?

Her expression tightened.

“You should go home, Mr. Blackwood. It’s late,” she said coolly.

Seeing her distant demeanor, Ethan felt a pang of disappointment.

But he didn’t back down.

“After walking you all the way home, don’t I at least deserve a glass of water? Is that too much to ask?” His tone held a faint note of reproach.

Faced with his almost pitiful look, Isabella felt her irritation flare.

She held back a sigh. “Mr. Blackwood, what are you really trying to do?”

“Just a glass of water, like I said,” he replied, his expression utterly sincere.

Looking into his earnest eyes, Isabella felt her resistance waver.

“Fine. Come up,” she relented, leading him to the elevator and pressing the button.

Behind her, a subtle smile touched Ethan’s lips as he followed closely.

Inside the elevator, the silence between them grew heavy and tense.

Outside, Benjamin shivered as a cold gust swept through.

He glanced up toward Isabella’s apartment window, his mind swirling with confusion.

“Sabotaging his own car just to spend more time with his wife? What time is it even? Mr. Blackwood is really going all out. And I’ve gone to great lengths for his sake too. It’s freezing. Why hasn’t he come back down yet? What’s taking so long?”

The wind picked up, and Benjamin pulled his coat tighter, grumbling under his breath.

His eyes remained fixed on the elevator doors, waiting impatiently for Ethan’s return.

Being the CEO’s special assistant was no easy job.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding. Isabella stepped out first, followed by Ethan carrying Liam.

As soon as they entered the apartment, Liam squirmed free and dashed into the living room. “Mr. Blackwood, look! That’s my block castle!”

Ethan followed the direction of the little boy’s chubby finger. In the corner stood an elaborate castle built from colorful blocks, nearly as tall as an adult.

“Wow! That’s incredible!” Ethan’s praise was genuine, filled with just the right amount of awe. “Did you build that all by yourself?”

“Uh-huh!” Liam nodded, his eyes shining with pride. “And over there! Look, Mr. Blackwood! Look at my drawings!”

He tugged Ethan toward the wall where several vibrant drawings were displayed. Ethan knelt to examine them. The wall was adorned with childlike sketches of flowers, trees, imaginative cosmic scenes, and one particular drawing of a family of three holding hands in a park.