Chapter 175

The moment Sophia stepped into the dimly lit room, her pulse quickened.

The air was thick with tension, heavy enough to choke on.

Ethan Blackwood stood by the window, his silhouette sharp against the moonlight. His jaw was clenched, his fingers curled into fists at his sides.

She swallowed hard.

This wasn’t the reunion she had imagined.

"You shouldn’t be here," he said, his voice low and rough.

Sophia lifted her chin. "I had to come."

His gaze flickered to hers, dark and unreadable. "Why?"

"Because we need to talk."

A bitter laugh escaped him. "Now you want to talk?"

She flinched but held her ground. "Liam misses you."

Ethan’s expression hardened. "Don’t use him as leverage."

"I’m not." She took a step forward. "I’m telling you the truth."

Silence stretched between them, suffocating.

Then, a sharp knock at the door shattered the moment.

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

Ethan didn’t look away from Sophia. "What?"

"Damian Slade’s men are outside."

Sophia’s breath hitched.

Ethan’s eyes narrowed. "How many?"

"Enough to be a problem."

Sophia’s mind raced. "We need to leave."

Ethan finally turned away from her, grabbing his coat. "Stay behind me."

She didn’t argue.

As they moved through the darkened halls, Sophia’s heart pounded in her chest.

She had come for answers.

But now, survival was the only thing that mattered.

The night was far from over.

And danger was closer than ever.

“W-what?” My voice trembles as I stare at Ethan in utter disbelief.

There was no way I heard him right. The Ethan I knew would have moved heaven and earth for Isabella—even if it meant sacrificing me.

My pulse races as I search his expressionless face for any sign of deception.

“You heard me, Sophia,” he repeats, his tone steady, unshaken. “If it came down to it, I would have let her die to save you.”

At first, I thought he was lying just to ease my guilt. Who wouldn’t? After all, what woman wants to hear that the man she loved for nearly a decade would choose another over her?

I assumed he was just sparing my feelings. But the raw honesty in his eyes told a different story. Ethan had never been one to soften the truth for my sake. He had always been brutally direct—why would he start lying now?

I exhale sharply and pull my hands free from his grasp. The warmth of his touch was too much, stirring emotions I wasn’t ready to face.

“You don’t mean that,” I finally say, my voice low. “Isabella is the woman you’ve loved since you first understood what love was. You’ve spent years devoted to her. How can you stand there and claim you’d sacrifice her for me?”

His brows knit together, frustration darkening his stormy gray eyes. He opens his mouth to argue, but I cut him off.

“I was nothing to you from the beginning. Remember? You hated me, Ethan. You despised me for years. So what changed? How can you suddenly decide I matter more than your precious Isabella? None of this makes sense. You don’t just wake up one day and stop hating someone.”

I sink back against the pillow, exhaustion weighing me down. Every word I spoke was the truth. A decade’s worth of bitterness and resentment doesn’t vanish overnight.

Strong emotions don’t disappear easily. I knew that better than anyone. Hadn’t I spent years trying to bury my love for him? I’d hidden it well, but it had never truly gone away. And I knew it would take time—so much time—before I could finally be free of it.

Ethan starts to speak, but I’m done. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want his explanations, his justifications. Not when I’ve spent years believing he loathed me.

Some might wonder why I’d push him away now. Isn’t this what I’d secretly wanted? For him to realize his mistake, to beg for forgiveness?

But the truth was, I didn’t know how to handle this version of him. His sudden shift left me wary, suspicious. Part of me wanted to believe him, to let go of the past. But the other part—the part that had been hurt too many times—didn’t trust this change.

It felt like waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“No, Ethan,” I interrupt firmly. “I’m grateful you saved me, but you should leave. Go to Isabella. That’s where you belong. You’ve waited years to be with her—don’t throw it away now. What we had was a mistake. Nine years of misery. It’s time we both found happiness. Yours is with her. And mine… mine is with my children.”

I see the protest in his eyes, the storm brewing in his gaze. For a moment, I brace myself for an argument. But it never comes.

Instead, he slumps back in his chair with a heavy sigh.

“Fine,” he mutters, his voice rough. “I’ll leave you alone… for now.”

He stands, and I think that’s it—that he’ll walk out without another word. But then he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead before I can react.

And just like that, he’s gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

I stare after him, stunned.

Ethan never walked away when he didn’t want to. He never yielded. Yet tonight, he did.

As I lie there, strength slowly returning, my mind races over his words.

Could I believe him?

This was Ethan. The same man who once told me I’d never compare to Isabella. The same man who made sure I knew I was nothing to him.

“What the hell is happening?” I whisper to the empty room.

I might have believed another man if he claimed he’d choose me over Isabella.

But not Ethan.

Never Ethan.