Isabella’s gaze softened as it landed on Liam, her heart swelling with warmth.

She knelt down and gently ran her fingers through his hair, her voice wrapping around him like a soft blanket. “What’s this, sweetheart?”

“It’s soup for you, Mommy.” Liam lifted the tray with a proud smile, his eyes sparkling. “You should try it, Mommy. It’s really yummy.”

A cold dread settled in Isabella’s chest. She knew exactly who had sent the soup through Liam. And she understood precisely why Ethan had done it. It was his way of getting to her, of chipping away at her defenses.

She took the tray from Liam’s small hands and placed it on the nearby table without taking a sip.

“Liam, Mommy isn’t hungry right now. Why don’t you go play for a little while?” Her tone was tender, but there was an unyielding edge beneath it.

Liam glanced at the bowl, his face falling for a moment, but he nodded obediently. “Okay, Mommy. Just call me if you need me.”

“I will.” Isabella smiled and affectionately squeezed his round cheeks.

Liam hurried out of the room with all the energy of a happy child. Isabella watched him go, her smile slowly fading. She turned back to the table and picked up the bowl of soup, her expression blank. She knew this was Ethan’s attempt to connect, a carefully calculated gesture.

The next morning, Isabella slowly opened her eyes. Morning light seeped through the thin curtains, scattering soft patterns across the room. She shifted, and a deep ache pulsed through her body. Pushing herself up, she scanned the bedroom. It was lavish but felt completely foreign. Each passing second made her heart sink further.

She threw the covers aside, got out of bed, and walked to the window. Outside, a perfectly manicured garden stretched out—lush, vibrant, alive with the sound of birds singing. Despite the beauty, Isabella felt a heavy, suffocating weight.

She felt like a songbird locked in a golden cage. Turning away from the window, she walked to the door and tried the handle. It was locked, just as she’d expected. Her face went pale.

Desperation clawed at her throat. She began pounding on the door, her voice raw as she screamed, “Let me out! Open this door!” No one answered. Her cries echoed down the empty hall, met with nothing but silence.

Then, a faint sound at the door caught her attention. Isabella’s head snapped up. The door slowly creaked open.

Henry stood there, his face unreadable. “Good morning, Mrs. Blackwood.”

Isabella eyed him warily. “What is it?”

“Mr. Blackwood asked me to inform you that Liam has been taken to kindergarten,” Henry stated flatly.

A chill shot through Isabella. Henry remained still and continued, “Mrs. Blackwood, Mr. Blackwood has also arranged a car to take you to your studio.”

Isabella was stunned. She stared at Henry, disbelief written across her face. Had she heard him correctly?

“What did you just say?” she asked, her voice trembling with confusion.

“Mr. Blackwood has arranged a car to take you to the studio,” Henry repeated.

Isabella’s mind raced, trying to make sense of it. She had prepared herself for Ethan to keep her locked away indefinitely, using Liam as leverage to break her will. But now he was letting her go to the studio?

What was happening?

What was Ethan planning? Her thoughts spun with doubt and suspicion. She couldn’t read his mind. She didn’t understand his motives.

“Mrs. Blackwood, you may leave now,” Henry said, his tone unchanging.

Isabella gave him a long, searching look, her expression a mix of confusion and caution. After a brief pause, she stepped forward and followed Henry out of the room and down the stairs.

Outside, a black car waited in front of the villa. The driver stood respectfully beside it, holding the door open for her. Isabella took a deep breath and slid into the car. As the vehicle pulled away from Hawthorne Residence, the world outside blurred past her window. Her mind was racing, yet it felt completely empty.