Chapter 4

I snapped back to reality. The child' s cry was a bucket of ice water, extinguishing the tiny spark of hope that his apology had ignited.

I pushed his hands away from my face, my expression hardening into a cold mask.

I got out of the car without another word.

As I walked towards the front door, it opened. Isabella stood there, holding a crying Leo by the hand. She approached us, her face a picture of timid apology.

"I' m so sorry, Mrs. Carter," she said, her voice soft and full of feigned regret. "Leo missed his daddy so much, and I couldn' t stop him. I had to bring him here."

Ethan glanced at my cold, unforgiving expression, then let out a heavy sigh. He walked past me, took Leo from Isabella, and carried the boy into the mansion, handing him over to the waiting housekeeper.

Then he turned. He walked to the living room, sat on the sofa, and looked coldly at Isabella, who had followed him inside.

"Explain," he said, his voice low and dangerous. He slammed his phone down on the coffee table. The sharp sound made Isabella jump.

Perhaps because Ethan' s face was so grim, so utterly devoid of its usual calm, Isabella was momentarily flustered.

"What were you trying to do, sending Amelia those ambiguous messages?" he demanded.

Tears immediately welled up in Isabella' s eyes, her rims turning red as if on cue.

"I' m sorry, Ethan, I didn' t mean to," she sobbed, twisting her hands together. "I just remembered that you and Leo are both allergic to honey, so I... I instinctively sent a reminder."

She looked over at me, where I sat in a lone armchair across from them, my fingers digging into the plush fabric, my own flesh.

"I' m so sorry, Mrs. Carter," she whimpered. "I overstepped."

I had seen enough. I stood up and walked over to her. With one hand, I lifted her chin, forcing her to look at me. My touch was not gentle. It was full of contempt.

"By what authority are you 'reminding' me of anything?" I asked, my voice like ice. I released her chin with a dismissive flick. "Put away your pathetic little tricks. You wouldn' t want to know the fate of all the other women who tried to climb the ladder by clinging to the Carter family over the years."

Isabella' s face turned deathly pale, humiliated by my words and my utterly disdainful actions.

Ethan, hearing Isabella' s flimsy explanation, seemed to relax. The deep furrow in his brow smoothed out.

"That' s enough, Amelia," he said, cutting off our confrontation. He turned to Isabella. "Take Leo home. From now on, you are not to come here without my permission."

His words were meant to be a resolution, but all they did was shield her from me.

Isabella' s tears immediately began to fall again. She picked up the still-sniffling Leo and left, sobbing theatrically all the way out the door.

But I never expected what would happen the very next night.

My phone rang close to midnight. It was Ethan. His voice was strained, panicked. He told me to come to the hospital.

When I arrived, I saw Leo lying in a bed in the Intensive Care Unit, hooked up to machines, his small body unnervingly still. I was stunned.

"Amelia Hayes!"

Isabella, her face pale and streaked with tears, rushed at me, her eyes wild with grief and fury. She shoved me hard, sending me staggering back.

"I already left with Leo! We were gone! Why did you do it? Why did you hire someone to run him over?! He' s only three years old! He' s just a baby!"

I steadied my swaying body, my mind reeling from her accusation.

"Are you insane?" I shot back, my voice cold with shock. "Do you even need a reason to spread rumors and slander?"

Just then, Ethan stepped forward. His face was a dark, clouded mask of gloom and suspicion. He didn' t say a word. He just handed me his phone.

On the screen was a video. An interrogation video, sent by the police. A dark-faced, shifty-eyed man was speaking hurriedly.

"It was Amelia Hayes. She gave me five million dollars to run over that child. She said she' d give me another five million if I succeeded."

I frowned at the video, my heart starting to pound in my chest. This was a setup. A very elaborate, very cruel setup.

"He' s slandering me!" I insisted, looking from the phone to Ethan' s face.

"You think I did this, too?" I asked, my voice laced with a disappointment so profound it felt like a physical blow.

Ethan closed his eyes for a long moment. When he opened them, they were filled with a cold, angry resignation.

"I don' t want to believe it, Amelia. But the man they arrested... he' s a distant nephew of your family' s longtime driver. Tell me, is that just a coincidence?!"

His angry, accusatory words hit me, but they didn' t hurt in the way he intended. In that moment, something inside me broke. And with that break came a strange, sudden sense of relief.

Some people, some situations, are simply not worth the emotional energy.

"Ethan Carter," I said, my voice eerily calm. "This is the third time."

Strike three. You' re out.

I looked at him one last time as he stared back at me, his expression a mixture of anger and confusion. The bitterness that had been poisoning my heart for months was gone, completely erased. There was only a vast, empty calm.

"Believe what you want to believe," I said, my voice clear and steady. "But know this. I, Amelia Hayes, disdain such low-class, underhanded tactics."

I then turned my gaze to Isabella, who was hiding behind Ethan, wiping away crocodile tears.

"Just like Catherine de Medici, right?" I said, my voice soft but carrying. "She was rumored to have harmed her own children to get rid of a rival queen. How ruthless. How pathetic."

I took a deep breath, refusing to show a single crack in my composure, refusing to show any weakness in front of them.

Then I turned and walked away.

Sitting in the cold leather seat of my car, I made two phone calls.

The first was to my personal lawyer. "Prepare divorce papers and an asset division agreement. I need them on my desk by tomorrow morning."

The second was to my most trusted assistant at Hayes Tech. "In three days, I want you to launch an all-out assault on Carter Industries' domestic market. Hold nothing back."

I looked up at the gloomy, overcast sky. I felt nothing but a cold, hard indifference.

"Ethan Carter," I whispered to the empty car. "Betraying me will come at a price."