Chapter 145
Ethan Roscente left the bar and returned to his Beverly Hills mansion.
Isabella Langley was sitting on the living room sofa. Hearing the door open, she immediately rose to greet him.
Ethan ignored her completely, walking straight past her toward the staircase.
Isabella bit her lip, a flash of resentment in her eyes.
In the master bedroom, Ethan lay on the large bed.
This bed had witnessed his intimate moments with Sophia Sullivan. Those memories replayed in his mind, frame by frame.
His breathing grew heavy, a dark shadow clouding his eyes.
He cursed under his breath, got up, and stepped into the bathroom for a cold shower.
He had only had two drinks tonight. His mind was painfully clear.
Sebastian Evans's words echoed in his ears.
If you love her, why break up?
You just spent six years losing her...
You claim to love her, but everything you do tramples on her...
Even with the deepest love, leaving was inevitable...
Each word felt like a nail, driving hard into Ethan's heart.
...
Early the next morning, Ethan got up, dressed in a suit, and prepared to leave for the office.
Breakfast was already set on the table downstairs.
He assumed the housekeeper, Martha, had prepared it. Then he saw Isabella coming out of the kitchen, holding a plate of dumplings.
"Ethan, you're awake? I made congee and steamed some dumplings. Have some before you go?"
"No." Ethan's expression was blank.
Isabella set the plate down and moved closer. "Some soy milk then? I know you don't like it sweet, so I didn't add sugar."
Her tone was natural, her demeanor submissive, as if yesterday's argument had never happened.
Ethan's gaze swept over the table, then landed on her face. A faint, mocking smile touched his lips.
It was a smile full of self-mockery and disdain.
He suddenly realized that people truly couldn't be compared.
When he used to argue with Sophia, she was usually the first to yield, but she never wore such a fawning smile.
She would simply ask calmly—
Are you hungry?
Is your stomach okay?
Are we out of soy sauce?
If he responded, the cold war would end.
On matters of principle, even if she spoke first, it was never an apology. She would reason with him logically and clearly until she convinced him.
Ethan looked at the woman simpering before him, meeting her eyes that seemed clear but were full of calculation. Only two words came to mind—
Pathetic.
Oblivious to the disgust in his eyes, Isabella continued, "Ethan, I thought about it all night. Aunt Victoria is an elder. I shouldn't have talked back to her."
"It's all my fault."
"Signing me up for those classes was for me and the baby's own good. I was being ungrateful. I promise I'll listen to Auntie's arrangements from now on, respect her, be filial, and never make her angry again. Please forgive me?"
Ethan watched her perform, almost wanting to applaud.
"Apologizing to me is pointless. Go make amends to the person you offended."
He turned and left without another word.
He didn't touch a single bite of breakfast.
Isabella watched his retreating back, her smile vanishing instantly.
The thought of going to the hospital to face Victoria Roscente's scornful expression and apologize made her irritable.
But Ethan had issued an ultimatum. The consequences of not going were unthinkable.
Isabella took a deep breath and walked back into the kitchen.
Fortunately, she had asked Martha to prepare chicken soup last night. She could just take a random bowl to fulfill the obligation.
Martha asked, "Miss Langley, the soup isn't fully simmered yet. What are you—"
"Just do as you're told. Stop with the nonsense!"
Who cared if it was ready? Victoria probably wouldn't drink it anyway.
If she did, even better. Maybe she'd get diarrhea!
At the hospital room.
Isabella pushed the door open without knocking.
"Auntie, I brought you some chicken soup."
The sight of her made Victoria's recently subsided headache return. "Who told you to come? I don't want to see you. Get out—"
Isabella put on a sincere expression. "Auntie, I came to apologize. I was wrong yesterday. I shouldn't have talked back. This is fresh chicken soup I made this morning. It's very nourishing."
Victoria sneered. "An apology? This is a wolf offering condolences to a lamb! I'd be thankful if you just stopped angering me. How dare you offer me your soup?"
She was afraid it contained spit!
Isabella kept her smile, silently cursing: I hope it kills you, you old hag!
Her hands kept moving. She unscrewed the thermos lid, took out a bowl, poured the soup, and presented it with both hands. "Auntie, you've wronged me. I'm sincerely apologizing. The soup simmered for two hours. It's very tonic. Please have some—"
Before she could finish, Victoria swatted the bowl away.
She then grabbed a pillow and threw it at Isabella. "Get out! Who wants your soup? Who knows if it's poisoned! Get out of here—"
Isabella was driven out of the room.
She dodged quickly, but her skirt was still splattered with soup.
It was a white Dior dress, the new summer collection. The stain was obvious. She tried wiping it with a tissue, but it didn't come off. She gave up.
Her closet was full of designer clothes anyway. Some still had the tags on. She could just change.
After taking a few steps, Isabella suddenly remembered something. She took out her phone and opened WeChat to message Ethan. Finding she was already blocked, her face darkened. She switched to SMS and sent a photo of the soup she had taken at home earlier.
[Ethan, I've visited Auntie and apologized sincerely. I'm sorry.]
As expected, there was no response.
She didn't care, putting her phone away and preparing to leave.
Just as she was about to get into the car, a cold female voice called out. "Isabella Langley?"
She turned around. It was Amelia Roscente.
Her future sister-in-law!
Isabella immediately put on a bright smile and stepped forward. "Amel—"
Slap!
Without a word, Amelia slapped her across the face.
Isabella was stunned.
Amelia withdrew her hand, her chin lifted slightly. "This slap is to teach you about respect and knowing your place! Who do you think you are? Even my brother doesn't dare talk back to our mother, and you had the nerve to make her so angry she ended up in the hospital?"
Isabella held her stinging cheek, her smile frozen. "How... how could you hit me?"
"I'm hitting a low-class bitch like you! Don't think getting pregnant lets you do whatever you want. You'd better pray my mother is okay, or you'll regret it deeply."
Amelia brushed past her without a second glance.
A young lady of her status wouldn't deign to look at an ant like Isabella.
Back then, even Sophia Sullivan received her polite greetings. Now, Isabella Langley only deserved a slap.
Amelia couldn't help but complain internally—
Her brother's taste was truly cursed. He gave up Sophia for this?