A cold dread seized his heart, twisting it without mercy.

Ethan spun around and headed straight for the elevator.

His strides were sharp and purposeful.

“Benjamin, find Isabella. Now. I want answers in ten minutes,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Benjamin immediately sprang into action, recognizing the severity in Ethan’s voice.

Minutes later, Ethan’s phone lit up with an address to the guesthouse.

He didn't hesitate. He drove off instantly.

Fresh out of the shower, Isabella stood wrapped in a towel.

Water droplets shimmered on her skin.

Suddenly, loud, aggressive knocking erupted at the door.

Her heart jolted in her chest.

Who could possibly be here at this hour?

Anxiety prickled over her.

She thought about calling out but stopped herself. She didn't want to seem vulnerable or alone.

Instead, she quickly opened a voice-changing app on her phone, selecting a deep male voice.

“Who is it?”

Outside, Ethan froze, his hand suspended mid-knock.

The unfamiliar voice threw him, despite his mental preparations.

A wave of raw, blinding anger shattered his control.

“Isabella, open this door!” he snarled, his voice dripping with icy rage.

Inside, irritation flared in Isabella the moment she recognized Ethan’s voice.

“What are you doing here?” she shot back, her tone sharp and annoyed.

His only response was to pound on the door even harder.

“Open it!”

The banging grew more violent, more insistent.

Isabella’s fingers tightened around her phone.

“We’re getting a divorce. Leave me alone,” she stated, struggling to keep her voice steady.

“You should be preparing the divorce papers, not harassing me.”

To Ethan, her words were a confession of guilt.

He was certain her desperation to be rid of him was because another man was there.

He was sure that man was Lucas, the one she’d been seen with at the upscale restaurant.

Rage flushed his face, his jaw clenched tight.

“You won’t open the door?” he spat venomously.

Without warning, he delivered a powerful, shattering kick to the door.

Wood splintered violently. The door hung broken, swinging loosely on its hinges.

“Stop! I’m calling the police!” Isabella screamed, clutching her towel, pure fear in her eyes.

The sight of her in nothing but a bath towel only amplified Ethan’s fury.

His expression turned to stone, cold and forbidding.

This confirmed his worst suspicion: she was hiding Lucas here.

Consumed by betrayal and fury, he ignored her protests and stormed into the room.

His eyes scanned every corner wildly.

“Where is Lucas?” he growled, his voice thick with menace.

He yanked the curtains aside in his frantic search.

Isabella stared in utter disbelief.

She secured her towel and met his glare with a fierce one of her own.

“How should I know where he is? Have you lost your mind?” she snapped, frustration boiling over.

Ethan let out a scornful, dismissive scoff.

He moved closer, his grip closing like a vice around her wrist.

His gaze was so intense it felt suffocating.