Chapter 171

Sophia tried to stand, but her body refused to cooperate. Exhaustion weighed her down like lead. Isabella noticed immediately, her lips curling into a smirk.

"Oh, Sophia," she drawled, tilting her head. "After all, I am your stepsister. You lived under our roof for eight years. My parents treated you like their own. Fed you, clothed you—didn’t we?"

She leaned in, voice dripping with false sweetness.

"Would I lie to you today? My wedding day? Do I look like I’m joking?"

Sophia’s throat tightened. She knew Isabella wasn’t lying.

But accepting it? That was another matter entirely.

Isabella pulled out her phone, tapped the screen, and shoved it into Sophia’s hands. "Watch."

Against her will, Sophia’s gaze locked onto the video.

The footage showed a crumbling villa—the same one she’d visited three months ago. The camera panned inward, revealing a dimly lit room.

Except this time, it wasn’t dark.

A sickly yellow glow illuminated the space.

And there, slumped in a chair, was Ethan.

Ethan.

Thin. Bearded. A shadow of the man she remembered.

Her vision blurred. Tears spilled over.

How could he—

"See?" Isabella’s voice cut through her thoughts. "That’s my husband. Filmed two weeks before you... entertained him." She smirked. "Funny, isn’t it? My father recorded this to report Ethan’s location to his brother, Richard. But fate had other plans."

Sophia’s hands shook.

Isabella wanted this—wanted her to break.

And break she did.

Sophia shot to her feet, a raw scream tearing from her throat. "TELL ME WHAT’S GOING ON!"

Her knees buckled.

"Sit. Down." Isabella’s voice turned icy. "Unless you want the police dragging you out in cuffs."

Sophia collapsed back into the chair, trembling. Tears streamed down her face as she stared at Isabella, waiting.

Isabella inspected her nails. "Six months ago, all of Harborview knew Ethan was the Blackwood family’s bastard. No inheritance. No future." She smirked. "But he did have assets. And Richard? He wanted them gone."

Sophia’s breath hitched.

"Richard planned to eliminate Ethan. Permanently." Isabella leaned closer. "But my father? He’s smarter. He played both sides—publicly loyal to Richard, privately helping Ethan."

Sophia’s voice was hollow. "Your father... used me."

"Obviously." Isabella laughed. "You were perfect. A prisoner. Disposable. If Ethan died? We’d frame you for his murder. If he lived?" She shrugged. "Well, I’d be the one who saved him. The one carrying his child."

Sophia’s nails dug into her palms. "But it was me. I was the one who—"

"Yes." Isabella’s smile widened. "And my entire family knew. You were always just a pawn, Sophia. A tool to protect our interests."

She leaned in, whispering, "Two years ago, you took the fall for me. Now? You’ll watch as I take everything from you."

Sophia’s chest burned.

Isabella wanted her to snap. To lash out. To give the police a reason to haul her away.

But Sophia stayed still.

Silent.

Isabella’s eyes gleamed. "Know why I chose today to tell you?"

She didn’t wait for an answer.

"Because today, I win."