Hot.
So hot and thirsty.
Isabella felt suffocated, like a fish dying of thirst in the desert. She tried to move but found herself pinned down. A rough, heavy hand gripped her waist and tugged at her nightgown.
Her heart skipped a beat. Panic surged through her as her eyes flew open.
A pair of deep crimson eyes, cold and filled with killing intent, locked onto hers.
Ethan.
The owner of those terrifying eyes was Ethan.
"Ah!" Isabella screamed.
In the next moment, she was yanked off the bed and thrown roughly onto the floor.
"You bastard!" she spat out, her voice trembling with rage.
A cold, cutting voice crashed down on her.
"Finally awake?"
!!
The way he had flung her down—anyone, even someone in a vegetative state, would have woken up!
As Isabella struggled to find a retort, a tall figure loomed over her, blocking the light. Instinctively, she looked up.
Her gaze traced a pair of long, straight legs to the white towel wrapped firmly around his waist. Above that was a lean, sculpted torso with sharply defined eight-pack abs.
Oh my god. Was she even allowed to look at this?
Before she could tear her gaze away, his cold voice cut through her daze.
"Seen enough?"
Ethan—also known as the King of Hell, a man feared by all.
Rumor had it that a woman who dared touch him had her hands cut off.
If he knew she had just ogled his abs, would he gouge her eyes out?
Thinking fast, Isabella flailed her hands dramatically.
"Huh? What's going on? Why can't I see anything? Am I… blind?"
Ethan crouched down, pinching her chin between his fingers. His cold, biting tone followed.
"You've been in a coma for three months, Isabella. Your acting skills have truly declined."
A coma? Three months?
She gawked at him in shock.
"Why was I in a coma for three months?"
Ethan sneered and released her chin. He grabbed a towel and wiped his hands, as if touching her disgusted him.
"Enough pretending. Wake up and sign the divorce papers."
"Divorce? Who and who?"
What nonsense was he spouting now?
Her eyes darted to the wall where a wedding photo hung.
In the picture stood her and Ethan.
She was smiling like a fool, while Ethan looked murderous, as if someone had forced him at gunpoint.
Oh my god.
Isabella backed up hastily and pinched her arm—hard.
It stung.
So this wasn't a dream.
"This is impossible! How could I have married you?"
Her voice trembled in disbelief.
She and Ethan were archenemies!
Ever since he made her cry for an entire day when she was six, she had despised him. Could she have possibly married Ethan?!
Ethan's eyes narrowed, his tone turning icy.
"Do you think I have time for this farce? Last time, you faked having cancer. Now you're pretending to have amnesia?"
Isabella clenched her fists in fury.
"Don't slander me!"
But seeing her persistent "act," Ethan's patience snapped.
He suddenly leaned in, as though about to kiss her.
In the past, if he had come this close, she would have rejoiced.
If he had faked a kiss, she might've revealed her intentions immediately.
But now—
Smack!
Isabella's hand crashed against his cheek in a sharp slap.
"Old man! Don't you dare touch me!"
Her eyes burned with fury, ready to reduce him to ash.
No one dared take advantage of her—anyone who tried ended up six feet under.
Ethan's voice dropped dangerously low.
"What did you just say?"
"You're seven years older than me, aren't you? You're basically an old man!"
Isabella scoffed, refusing to back down.
"I'm not even twenty, and you're already pushing thirty. We're not even in the same generation!"
She jabbed a finger at the wedding photo.
"And what's with this fake wedding photo? Even if I were foolish enough to marry you, I'd never be loyal! The person I hate most in this world is you!"
Her words successfully provoked Ethan's wrath.
His face darkened as he grabbed her wrist, yanking her back onto the bed.
"Look closely. Are these photos fake?"
She was the one who had threatened to die.
She was the one who had dragged Grandma Hannah into forcing him into these wedding photos.
And now, she had the audacity to deny it?
"Let go of me!" Isabella shrieked.
She lashed out like a wildcat—kicking, screaming, even biting.
Caught off guard, Ethan lost his balance.
They tumbled onto the bed.
She landed on top of him.
He was pinned beneath her.
Their eyes met.
For a brief moment, silence filled the room.
Then—
Bang!
The door flew open.
Madam Emily entered, holding a breakfast tray.
Her steps faltered. Her eyes grew round with shock.
"Ethan… Isabella…"
Her cheeks flushed as understanding hit her.
"Ah! I didn't see anything! I'll leave now!"
Before rushing out, she called out joyfully—
"Henry! Mom! Isabella's awake, and they're making a baby!"
Isabella: "!"
Ethan: "!!"
Isabella scrambled to her feet and stomped on Ethan's abdomen.
"Madam Emily, wait! It's not what you think!"
—
Fifteen minutes later, Isabella and Ethan sat silently in the living room.
Madam Emily, Grandma Hannah, and Henry beamed at them, their eyes shining with excitement.
Isabella suddenly felt like a circus monkey under their gazes.
Madam Emily grasped her hand with concern.
"Isabella, how are you feeling? Do you have any discomfort? Dr. Olivia will be here soon."
"Aunt—I mean, Madam Emily…" Isabella stammered.
Though she despised Ethan, she had no quarrel with his family.
Madam Emily's face fell slightly.
"Why are you calling me 'Madam'? Haven't you always called me 'Mom'?"
Isabella's head spun.
"I was really in a coma for three months?"
Grandma Hannah gave Ethan a sharp look as Madam Emily explained gently.
"You and Ethan had a fight, Isabella… and you fell down the stairs. You hit your head."
Ethan's voice was cold.
"It wasn't an accident. She did it on purpose to delay the divorce proceedings."
"Enough lies!" Isabella shot back angrily.
"I never married you, so why would I divorce you? I'm going home now!"
Madam Emily hesitated, looking startled.
"Isabella… do you really not remember? The Wilson family went bankrupt… your parents passed away."
She froze.
The color drained from her face.
Her memory remained a void.