Victoria Sinclair.

Liam’s stepmother. The woman who had ensured that I was cast out of Liam’s life like I never mattered, The woman who had whispered poison into his ears, who had manipulated every situation to her advantage, who had made sure I understood that no matter what Liam and I shared, I would never be good enough.

My mind raced with questions. What was she doing here? And more importantly, did she know about Ethan?

I swallowed hard, my hands curling into fists under the table.

“Victoria”

She stood beside our table, poised and elegant, dressed in an expensive black dress that hugged her frame in all the right places. Not a single hair was out of place, her sleek blond bob framing her face perfectly. She looked amused, but her eyes were as cold as ever.

“I thought I recognized you,” she said, her eyes glinting. “Didn’t expect to see you here, though.”

“What are you doing here?” Liam’s voice was strained.

Victoria picked up the wine glass the waiter had set in front of Liam, swirling the deep red liquid as if she had all the time in the world. “Oh, darling, I was just enjoying a quiet evening when I happened to see my dear stepson dining with…unexpected company.” She slid into the seat beside him with the grace of a queen taking her throne.

Her gaze flickered to me, assessing, calculating. I felt stripped bare under her eyes, but I refused to let her affect me.

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” I said, voice calm, even though my heart raced.

“Oh, but I think you do,” she replied sweetly. “When someone as insignificant as you reappears in Liam’s life, I tend to get… curious.”

“Enough,” Liam snapped, jaw clenched.

But she ignored him. “You always had terrible timing, Isabella.”

“I didn’t come back for Liam,” I said firmly.

“No?” Her smile deepened. “Then let’s not pretend you’re here by chance.”

Before I could answer, she pulled out her phone. Turned it toward me. Tapped the screen.

A photo appeared.

A little boy.

My son.

Victoria’s smirk deepened as she took in my reaction. “Lovely child,” she murmured, tapping the screen again. A second photo. My son at his preschool, holding hands with a classmate. Another tap. My son in the park. Another. My son walking next to me, his small fingers curled around mine.

I stopped breathing. My fingers dug into my lap to keep from shaking.

How did she get these?

I forced my mouth to work. “Where did you get these?”

She took a slow sip of wine, then set the glass down with a dramatic sigh. “Isabella, darling, you should know by now, there’s nothing I can’t find.”

Liam looked ready to explode. “Victoria, if you—”

But she wasn’t finished.

She leaned in, eyes gleaming. “The real question is: what will I do with what I know?”

My hands trembled beneath the table. I couldn’t hide the fear anymore.

“Make a deal with me, Isabella,” she whispered, “or watch your entire world burn.”

The words chilled me to the bone.

Liam’s eyes snapped to mine, sharp and searching, but I couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t let him see how much I was breaking inside.

Victoria, meanwhile, simply leaned back, satisfaction radiating off her like expensive perfume.

I swallowed hard. “And what exactly do you want from me?” I asked, my voice surprisingly steady, despite the panic eating me up.

She smiled. “Smart girl, you always did know when you were cornered.

Liam turned to her, “Victoria, you don’t want to do this,” he said, his voice dangerously low

She chuckled, amused. “Oh, Liam, darling. You always think you can control everything. But not this time. Not me.

His hands curled into fists, and for a moment, I thought he might snap. But this wasn’t about their twisted family feud. This was about my son, and that meant I had to be in control.

I turned my attention to Victoria. “You have something you want from me. Say it.”

She tilted her head, as if considering, then she leaned forward.

“I want your son. Full custody. You step out of his life quietly, and maybe, if you behave, we’ll let you see him every now and then.”

Liam jolted beside me, but I couldn’t look at him. I felt like the floor had vanished under my feet.

Victoria smiled. You see, Isabella, he’s not just your child. He’s the rightful heir to the Sinclair empire,” Victoria said smoothly. “And since Liam is unable to have more children... well, that makes your son all the more precious, doesn’t it?”

My voice came out small. “And if I say no?”

She tapped the phone again. “Then every secret you’ve been keeping, every piece of your carefully built life? It all unravels. I won’t have to do much, just a whisper here, a leaked document there. She tapped her phone screen again, the image of my son still glowing like a weapon. “Do you really want to take that risk?”

I felt cold. I felt like I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. My baby. My whole world. And she was threatening to rip him away from me.

Liam’s voice cut through the silence. “You don’t get to make that call, Victoria.”

Victoria barely spared him a glance. “And you don’t get to dictate my terms, dear boy.”

I turned to Victoria again, shaking with anger. “You’re insane if you think I’ll just give him to you.”

“You’re a single mother with no power. What can you offer him?” she asked. “We can give him everything—wealth, education, a future.”

“I can give him love,” I snapped.

Victoria chuckled. “Love doesn’t protect him from the world, Isabella. We can.”

I clenched my fists. “If I refuse?”

Her expression darkened. “Then your life becomes very difficult.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, but I would.”

Liam’s hand hit the table. “You’re crossing the line.”

Victoria stood slowly, smoothing her dress. “Don’t take too long to decide. Tick tock, Isabella.”

And then she walked away, leaving silence behind her.

Liam turned to me. “Hey, you don’t have to be afraid of her. She’s not taking him.”

I looked down, barely able to speak.

“She won’t win,” he said, reaching for my hand.

His touch was steady, but my world was spinning. I didn’t know if he was in this fight for me or for the heir he never knew he had.

Then my phone vibrated.

A message from an unknown number.

Think carefully, Isabella. The clock is ticking.

She wasn’t bluffing.

She was watching.

And waiting.