Shackles bound her feet, and she had been walking for what felt like an eternity.
Exhaustion weighed her down, her body covered in bruises. Yet, no matter how far she walked, she couldn't escape.
She stared in horror as her blood flowed into the bathtub, staining the water a vivid red...
"Ahh!"
Isabella screamed, jolting upright, her eyes wide with fear.
"Don't be afraid, I'm here. I'm right here," a voice beside her reassured her, gripping her hand tightly.
The warmth of the touch, the slight pressure—these sensations pulled her back to reality. With great effort, she turned her head and found herself in a hospital bed. The man beside her was James.
Her nightmare still clung to her, suffocating her like a heavy fog. Isabella trembled.
"I had a terrible, terrible dream..."
"It was just a dream," James soothed, his voice gentle. He had been by her side the entire time.
He had heard her calling out for her parents, apologizing over and over in her sleep. She had cried so much that her face was streaked with tears.
Isabella slowly took in her surroundings. It was already afternoon. The golden hues of the setting sun spilled into the room, casting it in a warm orange glow.
James's worried eyes reminded her that she had escaped the nightmare—that she was safe now.
She nodded faintly but suddenly noticed the red marks she had left on his hand from gripping it too tightly. Just as she was about to pull away, a cold chuckle came from the doorway.
She looked up.
Ethan stood there, leaning against the doorframe, his expression laced with disdain.
"Am I interrupting something?"
His sharp gaze swept over them, and his lips curled into a sneer.
Is this the reason she betrayed me? he thought.
James stood up, extending a hand.
"Hello, I'm James, Isabella's high school classmate."
Ethan chuckled darkly. "James? Isabella's first love?" He smirked and shook James's hand lazily.
"Hello, I'm Ethan—Isabella's husband."
James's expression remained unreadable, but Isabella's mood instantly soured.
She had no patience for Ethan—not when the mere sight of him reminded her of the pain she had buried deep inside.
At his words, her eyes darkened with anger.
"Not for much longer," she retorted coldly.
Ethan's smirk deepened.
"Until the divorce is finalized, you're still Mrs. Anderson. Any objections?" He leaned down, his gaze locked onto hers. "Wife?"
His teasing tone was laced with ice, sending an undeniable message—he had no intention of letting her go easily.
Isabella clenched her fists. Arguing with him was pointless. Instead, she asked, "What do you want?"
Ethan straightened up.
"Grandma Hannah's eightieth birthday banquet is tomorrow at Anderson's Mansion. I came to pick you up."
Tomorrow…?
Isabella blinked, caught off guard.
She had completely forgotten about it.
No one had reminded her before she left this morning.
Grandma Hannah had always been kind to her. When she married Ethan, the old lady had gifted her ten percent of the family shares as a dowry.
For that reason, she couldn't disappoint her.
"I understand," she said at last.
Turning to James, she added, "Thank you for today. I'll treat you to a meal another time."
James smiled and handed her his phone.
"Give me your number so we can keep in touch."
She took it and entered her number.
Ethan's eyes darkened.
James took back his phone, smirking. "I'll be going then. Let's keep in touch."
Ethan, unable to tolerate their interaction any longer, stepped forward.
Without warning, he bent down, scooped Isabella into his arms, and raised an eyebrow.
"You're weak. I'll carry you."
Isabella immediately struggled. "What are you doing? Put me down!"
"Don't be shy, wife," he said smugly. "It's my duty."
Then, with a nod to James, he added, "James, we'll be leaving now."
James: "..."
Isabella wanted to scream at him, but causing a scene in the hospital was out of the question. She bit her lip and endured it—until they got into the car.
Then, she finally exploded.
"Enough! What do you want?" she snapped.
Ethan ignored her outburst and instructed the driver to start the car.
Once the partition was up, he tilted her chin up, his cold eyes locking onto hers.
"As long as we're still married, you can't flirt with other men. The Anderson family's reputation won't be tarnished because of you."
So this is about the family's reputation, Isabella thought, suppressing a laugh.
She pushed his hand away, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Your 'husband experience card' has 48 hours left. After that, don't even think about controlling me."
Ethan's expression darkened.
"You're in such a hurry to divorce me," he said, his voice low. "Have you already found a replacement?"
She knew exactly who he was referring to—James.
So she deliberately said, "Yes. After all, he was my first love. I've been thinking about him for years. The moment I saw him again, I fell for him all over again. I want to be with him all the time."
She tilted her head and taunted, "What's wrong? Are you jealous? Don't tell me you've fallen for me. That would give me nightmares."
Ethan let out a short laugh, as if he had just heard the most ridiculous joke.
His eyes flickered over her, filled with amusement.
"So you were dreaming," he remarked dryly.
Isabella: "!"
Rather than waste energy arguing, she ignored him.
Fortunately, Ethan didn't provoke her any further, and for once, silence filled the car.
The vehicle sped through the streets of Crown City, heading toward a quiet suburb.
Soon, a low-profile yet grand classical mansion appeared before them.
It was already past 8 p.m., and the estate was brightly lit.
Servants bustled around, making last-minute preparations for the banquet.
The car came to a stop.
Ethan stepped out first.
Isabella reached for the door handle, but the moment she opened it, a gust of cold wind hit her, making her shiver uncontrollably.
Only then did she realize—she wasn't wearing shoes.
She had left them behind at the hospital.
Before her lay a small path paved with colorful pebbles.
Each stone looked smooth yet undoubtedly painful to step on barefoot.
She hesitated.
Ethan turned back and saw her pause.
With a smirk, he extended a hand.
"Need help, wife?"