Chapter 97

Sophia stood frozen, her mind blank.

She had no words to explain to Ethan. The Thorntons had clearly set this trap, waiting for her to stumble into it.

Arguing was pointless.

Even if she tried, Ethan wouldn’t believe her.

So she stayed silent, her heart sinking like a stone.

"If Isabella or the Thorntons ever face harm again, I won’t hesitate to add another life to my hands," Ethan’s voice was ice. "And your death will be anything but painless."

With that, he wrapped an arm around Isabella and walked away.

Sophia’s chest tightened violently.

She knew he meant every word.

She had seen firsthand how he dealt with enemies—ruthless, methodical, unyielding. He was a man who could burn with passion or drag you straight to hell.

And he never made empty threats.

Her gaze flickered toward Ethan instinctively. He was leading Isabella toward William Blackwood, his grip possessive.

Isabella rested her head against his shoulder, then turned just enough to flash Sophia a triumphant, gloating smile.

It was a look of pure victory.

But the moment she faced William again, her eyes shimmered with tears, her voice trembling. "Mr. Blackwood… hello."

"Grandfather, this is my fiancée, Isabella Thornton." Ethan’s tone was flat, indifferent.

So indifferent that everyone in the Blackwood family understood—this wasn’t a request for approval.

It was a statement.

He didn’t care what they thought. He would marry her regardless.

William’s lips thinned.

He despised women like this—calculating, manipulative, with no real pedigree. And yet, his grandson had chosen her.

"Who are your parents?" William demanded coldly.

Isabella shrank into Ethan’s embrace. "I… I didn’t mean to cause trouble. If my presence is an issue, I’ll leave. I can take the baby and disappear—"

William’s eyes sharpened. "You’re carrying his child?"

A delicate blush spread across Isabella’s cheeks. "I… belong to Ethan now."

"Answer me. Who is your family?"

"The… Thorntons."

"Which Thorntons? What do they do?" William had never heard of them in Harborview City, and it grated on him.

His grandson could choose his own bride, yes—but not some nobody.

Not another woman unworthy of the Blackwood name.

"We… we’re in trade."

Trade.

A laughable term compared to the Blackwood empire, with its billions and global reach.

Benjamin Thornton’s assets barely scraped eighty million—and that was only because of the scraps Ethan had thrown his way. Without Ethan’s misplaced gratitude for saving his life, the Thorntons would have been ruined long ago.

Pathetic.

William’s disdain was palpable.

Isabella wilted under his gaze, but Ethan’s arm tightened around her. "Grandfather, she’s carrying your great-grandson."

William stiffened.

"That’s why I brought her here. To make it clear—Isabella is the woman I’m marrying."

His tone left no room for debate.

"After my mother passes, I’ll bring her to Blackwood Manor as my official fiancée. So you can stop arranging those pointless blind dates."

Not a request.

A decree.

Without waiting for a response, Ethan guided Isabella away, leaving William seething.

Isabella whispered nervously, "Ethan… was I too forward?"

"No."

"But… Mr. Blackwood seemed angry."

"Call me Ethan."

"I—I can’t."

"You belong to me now."

A slow, satisfied smile curled her lips as she nestled closer. "Ethan…"

The sweetness in her voice made Sophia’s stomach twist.

Ethan led Isabella to his car, opening the door for her himself. Once she was settled, he returned briefly, passing Sophia without so much as a glance.

"Grandfather," he said to William, "I’m taking her to the hotel across the street. Benjamin and Elizabeth are waiting for her. I’ll be back in ten."

His next words were steel.

"My mother doesn’t know about her yet. And I won’t have her distressed in her final days. So keep this quiet."

William exhaled sharply. "Fine."

What else could he say?

Ethan was the true power in the Blackwood family now. He extended courtesy when he chose to—and withdrew it just as easily.

As Ethan drove off, William turned his attention to Sophia, his expression hardening.

"You’re the fake wife?" His voice dripped with contempt.

Sophia lowered her head. "Yes."

"Disgusting. Filthy. You’re not even fit to scrub the floors of Blackwood Manor."

He spat the words and strode into the hospital, the rest of the family trailing behind.

All except one.

Liam Sterling lingered, waiting until the others were out of earshot before stepping in front of Sophia.

A slow, mocking smile curved his lips.

"Little mouse," he murmured. "Did they break your legs, or are you just too stunned to run?"