Chapter 22

ISABELLA’S POV

Immediately these words leave his mouth.

Something inside me snaps.

I stare at him, the residual shock of the last hour still buzzing under my skin. The soft voices of the twins in the room down the hall drift faintly through the partially open door. That sound is the only thing keeping me from completely losing my shit.

“You don’t get to decide that,” I say, my voice shaking with fury. “You don’t get to take my children from their school like some kind of .... and then announce that we’re staying under your roof.”

Ethan stands near the large windows, with his sleeves rolled up, and his expression controlled. Well too controlled.

“I have every right. They’re mine. I ran a test and it was confirmed.”

“That doesn’t give you the right to ambush me.” I take a step closer to him, my hands clenched. “You didn’t call me. You didn’t ask me. You just sent people to watch my house, and grab the kids DNA without my knowledge, and then you walked into their school and pulled them. Just because you could do it. Do you have any idea what that felt like? Getting a message that my children were gone?”

His tightens his jaw, but doesn’t speak.

“You terrified me,” I continue, the words tumbling out sharper now. “I drove here thinking the worst. And now you stand there and tell me neither of us is leaving? Who do you think you are?”

“Their father,” he answers.

“A father they just met today.” My voice rises. “They don’t know you. You’re a stranger who took them from the only parent they’ve ever known. And instead of handling this like an adult, you’re trying to lock us down in your penthouse like we’re some property.”

Something flickers across his face. But I keep pushing harder.

“You used your money and your influence to go behind my back. You treated this like a business acquisition. Get the proof, take the assets, secure the location. Is that how you see them? As assets?”

“That’s enough.”

“No, it’s not.” I move closer, refusing to let him shut this down. “You don’t get to rewrite everything in one afternoon. You don’t get to scare me, take my children, and then calmly inform me that we’re staying. I am their mother. I have raised them every single day of their lives. You don’t get to erase that by issuing orders.”

Liam’s voice can be heard faintly from the guest room, asking Lila something. The sound steadies me and fuels me at the same time.

“I’m taking them home,” I say.

Immediately turning towards the hallway.

Ethan moves faster than I expect steping into my path, and blocking the way.

“You’re not leaving with them tonight.”

“Get out of my way.”

“No.”

I try to push past him but he catches my wrist. I yank my hands free and shove at his chest with both hands. He barely moves and my frustration and fear tangle in my chest so fast until I can hardly breathe. I hit his chest again and again, each one harder than the former.

“Let me go. You don’t get to keep us here.”

He grabs both of my wrists, firm enough to stop me. Looking at his face, he is no longer calm, his control is cracking.

“Stop fighting me.”

“Then stop treating me like I have no say.” My voice breaks with anger. “You took them without warning. You made decisions that affect their entire world without even speaking to me first. And now you’re trying to force me to stay under your roof because it suits you. This is not agremment. This is control.”

The words affected him. I see it in the way his grip tightens for a second before loosening slightly. His breathing has changed. The cold authority he walked in with is starting to fracture under the weight of what I’m saying. Good I need to weaken so I can run away with my kids.

I twist hard and manage to pull one wrist free. I turn toward the guest room again, determined to get my children and walk out.

That is when he loses the last of his restraint.

ETHAN’S POV

She will not stop.

Every word she throws at me hits harder than I expected. The accusation that I treated the children like assets. The reminder that they don’t know me. The raw fear she described when she got my message. I want to shut it down, to reassert control, but her fury is relentless and justified in ways I don’t want to admit.

When she turns toward the hallway again, something in me reacts on pure instinct.

I close the distance, catch her around the waist, and lift her off the ground before she can reach the guest room door. She immediately begins to fights harder, twisting, and pushing at my shoulders, demanding to be put down. Her voice is sharp and furious, but she is careful not to shout loud enough to truly frighten the children.

“Put me down. Ethan, put me down right now.”

I carry her down the opposite hallway towards the primary bedroom. She struggles the entire way, landing several solid hits against my shoulders and chest. I take them without comment. The moment we are inside the room, I set her down and step back just far enough to pull the door shut. I turn the lock from the inside, then remove the key.

She stares at me, her chest heaving.

“You cannot be serious.”

“I am.” My own breathing is uneven. “You’re not taking them out of this house tonight. And you’re not leaving either. Not while you’re this angry and not while we have no agreement.”

“You locked me in.” Her voice is pure disbelief and rage. “You actually locked me in a room.”

“I need you to calm down before you go back out there.”

“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down.” She takes a step toward me, her eyes blazing. “You started this when you took them from school. You escalated it when you decided we were both staying. And now you’ve locked me in a bedroom like a prisoner. Open the door.”

“No.”

We stand on opposite sides of the room, the air thick with everything that has exploded between us.

From down the hall, Lila’s small voice calls out for her mother. The sound cuts through the tension like a blade.

Isabella’s face tightens with fresh pain and fury.

“You’re scaring them,” she says, quieter now but no less fierce. “They can feel this. Let me out.”