Eleanor Grant’s gaze rested on Liam for a moment before returning to Isabella.

“Miss Scott, I’m here to discuss you and Lucas,” she stated directly.

Isabella’s heart stuttered. She immediately understood Eleanor’s purpose.

“Mrs. Grant, there seems to be a misunderstanding. Mr. Grant and I are merely friends…” Isabella attempted to explain, but Eleanor interrupted her.

“Explanations are unnecessary, Miss Scott. I am not here to create conflict.” Eleanor’s tone remained composed, yet it held an undeniable weight of authority.

“I simply wish to be clear. Lucas is my only son, and his happiness is my primary concern. However, I cannot sanction a relationship between the two of you.”

She paused, her eyes sharp. “Naturally, I am not without reason. Should you be willing to part with the child, I might reconsider allowing you to marry into our family.”

The words struck Isabella with the force of a physical blow.

She blinked, struggling to process the statement.

“Mrs. Grant, what did you just say?” she asked, certain she had misheard.

“I said, if you are prepared to relinquish custody of the child, I might permit a marriage to Lucas,” Eleanor repeated, her voice hardening.

Frustration surged through Isabella. She clenched her fists, fighting to control her rising anger.

“Mrs. Grant, you are mistaken. My relationship with Mr. Grant is purely platonic. As for Liam, he is my entire world. I would never, ever give him up.”

Eleanor’s expression tightened. She had not anticipated such firm resistance.

“Miss Scott, I urge you to reconsider. What future does a single mother truly have? Aligning yourself with our family guarantees wealth and security. Why would you refuse such an offer?” She dangled the promise of a luxurious life as temptation.

Isabella let out a short, derisive laugh. The proposition was absurd.

“Your offer holds no value for me, Mrs. Grant. I require no assistance in raising my son. This conversation is over. Please leave.”

Taking Liam’s hand, Isabella stepped around Eleanor and walked toward the street.

Eleanor stood frozen, watching them depart. Rage darkened her features.

“Very well! You choose to reject a generous opportunity. You will regret this decision,” she muttered through gritted teeth, turning back toward her car.

“Such stubbornness will have consequences. Do not blame me for what follows!” she spat, her jaw clenched tight.

At that moment, a moving truck entered the residential area, crawling slowly along the curb. Inside the passenger seat, Zoe observed the scene unfolding outside. A sly, cold smile curved her lips.

“Well, well. What a dramatic display,” she murmured mockingly. “Who would have imagined? Isabella certainly plays her games well. She’s entangled Noah, and now Lucas is utterly captivated. Even his mother is involved? How entertaining.” Jealousy and bitterness laced every word.

To Zoe, Isabella had always been an obstacle—someone she wished would simply vanish. Witnessing her rival’s apparent success while she herself struggled was intolerable.

She turned to the driver and pointed toward a nearby apartment building. “Stop here,” she instructed coolly.

Her decision to move into this neighborhood was deliberate—she knew Ethan frequented the area. Orchestrating “chance” encounters was a key part of her strategy to win him back.

However, stumbling upon such a intense confrontation on her very first day was an unexpected development. Instead of discouraging her, it only solidified her resolve. Her eyes glinted with cold determination.