Chapter 44

Isabella Jackson stared intently at Evelyn Sullivan's face, searching for any trace of jealousy in her eyes. But those cool, composed eyes remained as still as undisturbed water, not a ripple of emotion in sight.

"Who are you trying to fool with this act of generosity?" Isabella scoffed, her nails digging deep into her palms. "Do you really think this will make Ethan look at you twice?"

Evelyn lifted her gaze slightly, her voice icy. "Isabella, you're pathetic."

"What did you just say?!"

Isabella's pupils constricted sharply. Even her flawless makeup couldn't hide the twisted fury on her face.

"What else is there in your world besides Ethan Sullivan?" Evelyn suddenly found it laughable. Had she once been this pitiful too?

"Shut up!" Isabella's voice rose sharply. "You're the real loser here! No one in the Jackson family wants you—not even your own husband!"

A faint smile touched Evelyn's lips. Once, she might have craved that elusive love. But now she knew better—her only true refuge was herself.

"Believe what you want." She turned, the hem of her dress sweeping an elegant arc. "If you can convince Ethan to divorce me, I’d actually thank you."

At the corner, a tall figure made her pause mid-step.

Ethan stood in the shadows, his tailored suit accentuating his broad shoulders and narrow waist. His dark eyes were unreadable, his jaw clenched tight.

Evelyn's breath caught. Every time she mentioned divorce, this man would erupt in fury.

But this time, Ethan only gave her a long, inscrutable look before turning and disappearing down the hallway.

"Grandmother is waiting for you in the parlor," William Jackson murmured from behind her, his voice low. "Mind your words."

In the parlor, Eleanor Jackson's smile was sickly sweet. "Evelyn, dear, come sit by me."

Evelyn chose the farthest seat. The scent of tea filled the air as she cut straight to the point. "What do you want, Grandmother?"

"You always were so blunt..." The old woman chuckled awkwardly, rubbing her prayer beads. "Now that Ethan is treating you well, you should focus on giving him an heir."

Evelyn nearly laughed aloud. Three months ago, these same people had been eager to push her aside for Isabella.

"Actually, there’s something I need to say too." She set down her teacup with a crisp clink. "I’m divorcing Ethan."

The prayer beads slipped from Eleanor's fingers, scattering across the floor like marbles.

"Don’t be absurd!" The old woman’s face darkened instantly. "Do you know how many women would kill to be Mrs. Sullivan?"

"Isn’t that what Isabella has always wanted?" Evelyn met her murky gaze head-on. "She’d be a much better fit, don’t you think?"

Eleanor’s expression froze, calculation flickering behind her wrinkles. "You... truly mean it?"

"As long as the Jackson family facilitates the process." Evelyn rose, sunlight casting delicate gold flecks on her lashes. "Take your time to consider it."

As she turned away, she missed the glint of triumph in the old woman’s eyes.