Chapter 95

Behind Sophia, Ethan watched her with an unreadable expression.

When she slapped Isabella moments ago, Nathan behind her held his breath.

Why did this girl always find trouble?

Watching Sophia strike Isabella, Nathan felt relief—but he also knew what might come next.

Sophia continued shouting at the sobbing Isabella, who clutched her reddened cheek. "Listen carefully, Isabella! I'm still Ethan's legal wife! And Victoria adores me—she only recognizes me as her daughter-in-law!"

Her voice dripped with venom. "You? You're nothing to her. Guess what? In Victoria's final month, do you think I'll let her destroy your entire family?"

She leaned closer, eyes blazing. "I always keep my promises."

Sophia had reached her limit.

The Thorntons had ruined her life. If not for them, she wouldn’t have spent two years in prison. She wouldn’t have been forced into a desperate arrangement with a dying man, left carrying his child.

Her future had been stolen.

Her mother was gone, and she couldn’t even visit her grave.

Yet Sophia had swallowed her rage—because survival came first. Protecting her unborn child mattered more than revenge.

But the Thorntons kept pushing.

Isabella had crossed the line.

She’d filmed a group of laborers surrounding Sophia’s mother’s grave, shovels in hand, threatening to desecrate it.

That was unforgivable.

Sophia could have killed her. Instead, she settled for a slap—and a calculated move.

She needed Ethan’s power to crush the Thorntons once and for all.

"Isabella, tell me—what does Ethan see in you?" Sophia scoffed. "Beauty? I surpass you. Charm? I outshine you. And if you dare provoke me again, I swear—Ethan will never be your fiancé. He’ll remain my husband forever."

A cold smile curled her lips. "Oh, and one more thing—your so-called fiancé? He treats me exceptionally well."

Isabella’s face twisted with fury.

She’d seen how Ethan doted on Sophia—buying her designer clothes, lavish gifts, even a car. Things he’d never done for her.

Jealousy consumed her.

With a shriek, Isabella lunged. "You witch—I’ll kill you!"

Sophia sidestepped, shoving her away dismissively.

She hadn’t meant to hurt her—just end this farce before Victoria noticed.

But Isabella stumbled backward dramatically.

Pathetic.

Strong arms caught Isabella just before she fell.

Sophia froze.

Ethan cradled Isabella, his gaze glacial as it locked onto Sophia.

Behind him stood Grace Blackwood, Ethan’s grandmother. And beside her—Liam Sterling, watching with amused detachment.

"E-Ethan," Sophia stammered. "She—Isabella ambushed me here. I thought she was harassing Victoria—"

"I asked her to wait for me," Ethan cut in, voice icy.

Isabella had been invited.

Earlier that day, William Blackwood had pressured Ethan to choose a fiancée from the elite families. Ethan had refused—until he remembered Isabella’s pregnancy.

Then came William’s call: an olive branch. The Blackwoods would honor Victoria as Mrs. Blackwood, entomb her in the family plot.

Ethan agreed—on one condition.

He’d introduce Isabella first.

But he hadn’t expected Sophia’s explosive confrontation.

Or her viciousness.

Had he been too lenient with her?

"Ethan, you—you saw her!" Isabella wept into his chest. "She threatened my family!"

Ethan stroked her hair, his eyes never leaving Sophia. "I heard everything."

Then, softly: "You wanted to destroy the Thorntons?"