Chapter 160

The moment Sophia stepped into the dimly lit room, her breath hitched.

The air was thick with tension, the scent of aged leather and faint cigar smoke lingering.

Ethan Blackwood stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, his broad shoulders outlined against the city lights.

She hadn’t expected him to be here.

Not after everything.

Not after the way they’d left things.

His voice was low, rough with barely restrained emotion. "You shouldn’t have come."

Sophia clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms. "I didn’t have a choice."

A bitter laugh escaped him. "There’s always a choice."

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet his piercing gaze. "Liam needs you."

Ethan’s expression darkened. "And what about you?"

The question hung between them, heavy with unspoken words.

Sophia’s heart pounded.

She couldn’t answer.

Not honestly.

Not when the truth would shatter them both.

A sharp knock at the door broke the silence.

Sebastian strode in, his usual smirk absent. "We have a problem."

Ethan didn’t turn. "What now?"

Sebastian’s gaze flicked to Sophia before settling on his brother. "Hawk’s men are moving. They’re coming for her."

Ice flooded Sophia’s veins.

Ethan finally turned, his eyes blazing. "Then we move first."

Sebastian nodded. "Already on it."

Sophia took a step back. "Wait—what’s happening?"

Ethan closed the distance between them in two strides, his hand gripping her wrist. "You’re not leaving my sight."

She yanked her arm free. "I don’t need your protection."

His jaw tightened. "Like hell you don’t."

Sebastian cleared his throat. "We don’t have time for this."

Ethan’s gaze never left Sophia’s. "Pack your things. You and Liam are coming with me."

She shook her head. "No."

A muscle ticked in his jaw. "This isn’t a request."

Sophia lifted her chin. "And I’m not your wife anymore."

The words landed like a blow.

Ethan’s expression hardened. "Fine. But if you won’t do it for me, do it for Liam."

Her resolve wavered.

Damn him.

Sebastian’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, his face grim. "We’re out of time."

Ethan grabbed Sophia’s hand, his grip unyielding. "Let’s go."

She hesitated.

Then the sound of shattering glass sent her heart into her throat.

Ethan shoved her behind him just as the first bullet struck the wall.

Chaos erupted.

And Sophia realized—

She had no choice at all.

"Thank you, my love." I force a smile, though it feels brittle. "I'm going to prepare dinner. Finish up so you can take a shower."

Leaving the box of clothes behind, I retreat to the kitchen. My fingers tighten around the counter's edge as I stare blankly at the ingredients laid out. The clothes—Ethan's sudden, uncharacteristic gesture—weigh on my mind. I don't want them. I don't want anything from him.

If we're being honest, this is the first time he's ever given me anything.

The memory of the changing room flashes behind my eyelids—his darkened gaze, the way his body pressed against mine. It wasn't just unexpected. It was wrong. Ethan Blackwood doesn't look at me like that. He never has.

So what the hell changed?

"Sophia."

I whirl around at the sound of his voice, my pulse spiking. He stands in the kitchen doorway, his presence like a storm rolling in uninvited.

"What are you doing here?" My voice is sharp, edged with the anger I can't suppress. "And how did you get in?"

"Liam let me in." He takes a step forward, but I don't retreat.

I don't want him here. Not in my house. Not in my life. He doesn’t get to treat me like garbage for nine years and then suddenly decide he wants to play the devoted husband. It doesn’t work like that.

"Get out." The words snap like a whip.

"Sophia—"

"Get out of my fucking house, Ethan."

The dam cracks. Every cruel word, every dismissive glance, every time he made me feel invisible—it all rushes back, drowning me in bitterness. My vision blurs with unshed tears, but I refuse to let them fall. Not in front of him. Never again.

"Listen to me—"

"Like you listened when I told you I was drowning and you didn’t care?" My voice shakes. "Or when I begged you to give us a chance, and you walked away like I meant nothing?" I drag in a breath, fighting to steady myself. "I've heard enough from you to last a lifetime. I left. Isn’t that what you always wanted? So why can’t you do the same for me?"

My nails dig into my palms. "Haven’t I paid enough for loving you? What more do you want?"

Silence stretches between us, thick and suffocating.

His jaw clenches. Something flickers in his eyes—pain? Regret? I don’t care. I don’t have the energy to decipher him anymore.

"You’ve spent years throwing Isabella in my face. Well, she’s here now, Ethan. You can have the love of your fucking life. Just leave me alone." My voice breaks. "Don’t come to my appointments. Don’t take me shopping. Don’t buy me clothes. Ignore me like you always have."

I sag against the counter, exhaustion crashing over me.

"Are you two fighting?" Liam’s voice cuts through the tension.

His young face is set in a frown, his eyes darting between us.

"No," I say tiredly. "Your father was just leaving."

I glare at Ethan, silently demanding he go. Praying he never steps foot in this house again.

Liam hesitates, then nods and walks away.

Ethan turns to leave but pauses at the threshold. His back is rigid, his voice low. "I’m sorry, Sophia. So fucking sorry."

The words are rough, as if they’re being torn from him.

"Just go," I whisper. "And take the clothes with you."

"No."

I grit my teeth, resisting the urge to hurl something at his head.

"Fine. I’ll donate them."

"Do what you want. They’re yours."

Then he’s gone.

Muffled voices drift from the hall, followed by the click of the front door. The air in the kitchen lightens instantly, as if his presence had been a physical weight.

As I start dinner, I steel myself.

This time, I won’t break.