Ashton’s patience snapped, his expression turning cold as ice.
He grabbed the cup, ready to fling the scalding coffee at me.
Isabelle hurried to stop him, her voice trembling with sorrow.
“Ashton, Kate doesn’t look like she’s faking. Maybe something’s really wrong.”
“We haven’t gone far. Why not take her back to the hospital for a check-up?”
Ashton sneered, clutching Isabelle tighter.
“You’re far too kind. That’s why she keeps trampling all over you.”
“Kate is the kind of person who won’t hesitate to get what she wants. You don’t really know her.”
Isabelle pouted, tears glistening in her eyes.
“I thought you agreed to the engagement because you had feelings for Kate. I only wanted to help you.”
Ashton wiped the tears from the corners of Isabelle’s eyes and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his voice heavy with pity.
“Feelings? More like disgust.”
“If the Castellano family still held any use for me, do you think I’d ever agree to marry someone like her?”
“When this crisis is over, I’ll divorce her. I can’t bear Kate’s temper another day.”
“Then I’ll give you the most extravagant wedding the world has ever seen. We’ll take the baby, travel to Paris or maybe chase the northern lights. How does that sound?”
Isabelle blushed, curling closer into his arms.
Ashton stroked her long hair tenderly, his gaze softening as it landed on the scar on her wrist.
“Isabelle, thank you. Thank you for standing by me back in school. And thank you… for giving me a child.”
Her expression stiffened, panic flashing in her eyes.
“You still remember…”
Eight years ago, Ashton had been the illegitimate child of the Johnson family, enduring humiliation and contempt.
The darkest moment came when he was kidnapped and beaten unconscious. The legitimate Johnson heir had hired someone to end him.
While he lay in the haze of unconsciousness, a man’s desperate scream pierced the air. “Psycho! You’re completely insane!”
When he finally awoke, only Isabelle was by his side, her wrist still bleeding heavily.
From that moment on, Isabelle became the most precious person in his life.
In a shadowed corner, unnoticed by anyone, my body slipped slowly from the seat.
Beneath my torn clothes, the scar on my wrist stared back, cruel and raw.
Even as the car pulled up to the villa, I remained unconscious; my cheeks flushed with unnatural heat.
Only then did Ashton sense something was terribly wrong.
When my eyes fluttered open again, I found myself lying in a guest room.
From the hallway, I glimpsed Ashton, carefully straightening Isabelle’s clothes.
His touch was so gentle that it felt surreal as if he were handling priceless treasures rather than mere fabric.
I remembered the last time I attended a banquet at the Johnson house with my father for business.
I pouted, asking him to fasten a necklace for me.
His face remained cold as ice, and he replied curtly, “Don’t you have hands? I don’t touch a woman’s things.”
I used to believe that was just how he was.
But today, I finally understood that the cold façade was merely a mask, hiding how deeply he despised me.
When he faced Isabelle, there were no pretenses, no restraint.
Catching my gaze, Ashton looked directly at me.
Our eyes locked, and every trace of tenderness vanished, replaced by freezing disdain.
He strode over with cold steps and said, “You hurt yourself just to frame Isabelle?”
I froze, my heart pounding as his face darkened.
“Stop pretending. If you fall ill under my roof, do you think the Castellano family will let Isabelle go unscathed?”
Suddenly, a bitter laugh escaped me, tears streaming down my cheeks as I laughed harder.
“Fine. I’ll leave.”
I lifted the blanket, trying to rise, but he pushed me back down without mercy.
“Enough. Stay here and recover. If you leave now, they’ll say I mistreated you.”
