Chapter 149

The woman had grown up in rural poverty, barely literate. Yet her striking beauty caught the attention of Vincent Holloway when she was barely twenty—he, already in his sixties. For a decade, she lived sheltered in his gilded cage, untouched by life’s harsh realities.

Isabella Thornton and Elizabeth Thornton played her like a puppet, twisting her naivety into murderous intent.

Isabella was certain this time would succeed. Sophia Montgomery would finally be eliminated.

But at the critical moment, Ethan Blackwood intervened, shielding Sophia with his own body.

The sight fueled Isabella’s jealousy into something darker, more desperate.

Returning home, Elizabeth took one look at her daughter’s tear-streaked face and knew. "Did she finish the job?"

"Mother—" Isabella sobbed, fists clenched. "Why won’t that wretched girl just die? She’s like a cockroach!"

Elizabeth’s lips thinned. Sophia’s survival was an open threat. One they couldn’t afford.

"There’s only one solution left," Elizabeth murmured, cupping Isabella’s face. "We escalate. Make Ethan see her for the trash she is. Once he’s disgusted, the Blackwoods will discard her. And you—" She smiled. "You’ll be the only woman in his life."

Isabella nodded, wiping her tears.

"Call him," Elizabeth ordered. "Now. Be sweet. Concerned."

At Grandview Medical Center, Ethan’s wound had been cleaned and bandaged. No stitches—just a sling. He’d refused anesthesia, just as Sophia had days prior when they’d treated her arm.

The parallel wasn’t lost on her.

"Doesn’t it… hurt?" she asked quietly.

Ethan scoffed. Pain was an old friend.

His phone rang. With one arm immobilized and the other receiving IV fluids, he jerked his chin at Sophia. "Answer it."

Her stomach dropped when she heard Isabella’s shrill voice. "Who are you? Why are you touching my fiancé’s phone?"

Sophia froze, then wordlessly held the phone to Ethan’s ear.

His voice turned glacial. "What."

"Ethan! Who was that woman? Who—"

"Nurse," he clipped.

Isabella’s pause was palpable. She knew. Of course she knew. But she played along, voice dripping with faux concern. "Are you hurt? Should I come—"

"No." His patience frayed. "I’m busy."

A calculated sniffle. "The doctor says stress isn’t good for the baby…"

Ethan’s jaw tightened. The baby. Always the baby.

"Rest," he forced out. "We’ll talk later."

As he hung up, Sophia was already at the door.

Nathan Carter blocked her path. "Miss Montgomery—"

"Thank you," she said hollowly, slipping past.

Behind her, the weight of Ethan’s gaze burned. But she didn’t look back.