An Unexpected Dinner
In New York, the McMillan family, with their influential background, was well-known among the elite circles. Therefore, investigating them wasn't a challenging task.
Being called Isabella Sheffield's "ex-boyfriend" wasn't a title Ethan McMillan relished. Despite his distaste for it, he couldn't escape the reality of the label.
"Yes."
As soon as the word left his lips, Thomas Sheffield landed a punch squarely on Ethan's face. Caught completely off guard, Ethan stumbled back several steps. If not for Rachel Stewart quickly supporting him, he would've fallen unceremoniously to the ground.
"What's wrong with you? Why would you attack him for no reason?" Rachel exclaimed, her eyes blazing with anger as she glared at Thomas. Her gaze then shifted to Isabella. "Isabella, even if Ethan doesn't love you anymore, resorting to violence is just petty! Don't forget, he's a public figure!"
"I…" Isabella was at a loss for words. She hadn't done anything to deserve such an accusation.
"He's not worth Isabella's time or attention." Thomas dismissed Rachel's tirade with an icy glare. Not wanting to draw more attention, he tugged Isabella along, leaving without another word.
"Ethan, this is assault! You could press charges!" Rachel's voice trembled with frustration as she examined Ethan's bruised face. Her heart ached for him. Watching the man she loved get punched in public—by her rival's brother, no less—filled her with unbearable indignation.
She and Isabella had attended the same university. Rachel had been in the arts department, while Isabella majored in economics and management. The two hadn't crossed paths until Ethan came into the picture. Rachel, harboring feelings for Ethan, befriended Isabella under false pretenses to get closer to him. And now, years later, she was the one by his side, victorious while Isabella was left humiliated.
Rachel didn't feel guilty about how she had gotten Ethan. After all, love was something you fought for.
"It's fine. Let's not make a scene. Didn't we come here for dinner? Let's go," Ethan reassured Rachel, brushing off her concerns. However, deep down, his feelings were conflicted. Watching Isabella leave hand in hand with another man stirred something unsettling in him.
When Thomas finally left Isabella on her own, he turned to her with a few stern reminders before leaving to attend to an urgent phone call.
"Brother, you don't need to worry about me. Go take care of your work," Isabella assured him.
After hesitating for a moment, Thomas nodded, got into his Lamborghini, and sped off.
As the sleek car disappeared into the distance, Isabella let out a deep sigh of relief. She wandered the streets aimlessly, her thoughts swirling. Today had been exhausting, and she was grateful to escape further drama.
At the same time, back at Alexander Cole's company headquarters, Liam Anderson entered the CEO's office with a mischievous grin and handed over a file.
"Boss, here's all the information about your 'wife.' You might want to brace yourself."
Alexander glanced at Liam, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. "Do you have nothing better to do?"
"Plenty, but this was too juicy to pass up," Liam replied, chuckling as he quickly left the office. He knew better than to linger when Alexander was in a foul mood.
Picking up the file, Alexander began to read. His brows furrowed in surprise. He hadn't expected to discover that his new wife was Thomas Sheffield's younger sister. It was no wonder Liam had found the situation amusing.
Later that evening, Alexander returned home to the mouthwatering aroma of freshly cooked food. He glanced around, but there was no sign of Isabella. Shrugging, he headed upstairs to freshen up.
When he came back down, he found the dining table set with a few simple yet appetizing dishes. Though the presentation wasn't extravagant, the meals looked thoughtfully prepared—and they were all his favorite dishes.
"Dinner's ready." Isabella emerged from the kitchen with a steaming bowl of soup in hand, her cheeks flushed from the heat. She wore a white sweater under a pink apron, her hair tied back in a high ponytail.
Without a word, Alexander pulled out a chair and sat down. "Where's Auntie Sandra and Uncle John?" he asked as he glanced at the dishes.
"Auntie Sandra injured her back earlier, and Uncle John took her to the hospital. So, I made dinner myself. I hope it's to your liking," Isabella explained, placing the soup in front of him.
Alexander hummed in acknowledgment and began eating.
Isabella watched him nervously, her hands fidgeting. She was confident in her cooking skills, but she wasn't sure if someone like Alexander, with his refined tastes, would appreciate her efforts.
After a few bites, Alexander looked up. Seeing the anticipation in her eyes, he smirked faintly. "The food's good," he said simply.
Isabella's face lit up with a smile. "I told you I'm a great cook!" she declared, her tone triumphant.
Alexander chuckled softly. Her cheerful demeanor was unexpectedly endearing. While he didn't feel any romantic attachment to her, he found himself enjoying the sense of domesticity they shared, even if it was just for show.