Chapter 150

Alexander had spent more than ten years at the police academy, never missing a single day of combat training.

His punch sent Lucas reeling, vision blurring as he stumbled back.

Shaking out his fist, Alexander casually rested one hand on his hip and turned his back on Lucas.

Facing Evelyn, he said coolly, "I'm not stopping you. In fact, I'll help you beat him up. Come here. I'll pin him down, and you can hit him until you're satisfied."

Lucas was baffled.

What the hell? Alexander is hitting me to make Evelyn happy?

Evelyn blinked in shock. "Seriously?"

"As long as it makes you feel better, breaking his legs is fine by me," Alexander growled, shooting Lucas a murderous glare.

This bastard! His fight with Claire nearly cost me my marriage.

What a complete jerk!

He wasn’t about to let his hard-earned marriage—or the woman he treasured—walk away because of this idiot.

I couldn't believe Alexander would drag me into this mess because of that scoundrel!

Seeing Lucas was genuinely hurt, Evelyn immediately sent Isabella away.

Isabella had been sobbing, refusing to leave at first. But when she saw Evelyn actually grabbing something to storm downstairs, she finally listened to Lucas and bolted.

By the time Evelyn reached the lobby, Isabella was hobbling toward the hospital entrance.

But an injured woman couldn’t outrun someone at full strength.

Evelyn caught up in mere strides, yanking Isabella back by the arm.

Claire had followed Evelyn down.

Since she had no intention of keeping the baby anyway, she figured she might as well unleash her fury first.

"Where do you think you're running?" Evelyn snapped, shoving Isabella hard enough to send her crashing to the floor. "Didn’t I warn you? Playing the mistress never ends well."

Isabella turned teary eyes toward Lucas, pleading. "I’m not the other woman. Lucas knows that!"

Lucas wiped his nose with the back of his hand, his fingers coming away smeared with blood.

Alexander’s punch had been brutal. The bleeding just wouldn’t stop.

Lucas gave a stiff nod. "Right, she isn't the other woman."

"Bullshit!" Claire whipped out her phone, her fingers trembling with fury as she pulled up a photo. "If she's not the other woman, then explain this!"

The image showed Lucas fast asleep, his eyes shut, while Isabella lay draped across his chest.

The angle was deliberate—only their faces visible against what looked like rumpled sheets, the rest swallowed by darkness, leaving too much to the imagination.

Lucas's breath hitched. "What the hell is this? We never did this! This has to be fake!"

"Your little mistress sent it to me herself," Claire spat, her voice dripping with venom. "You think she'd fake that?"

She hurled the phone at him, and Lucas scrambled to catch it, his pulse roaring in his ears.

The timestamp read two months ago—right in the middle of their ugliest fight.

And the sender? Isabella’s number. His gaze snapped to her, suspicion darkening his expression.

Isabella paled, her hands fluttering nervously. "This—this is a misunderstanding! My phone was hacked around that time!"

Evelyn arched a brow, her lips curling into a cold smirk. "So you expect us to believe," she drawled, "that your conveniently hacked phone just happened to send that?"

The tension in the air was suffocating.

Evelyn crossed her arms, her gaze sharp as a blade. "Let me get this straight, Isabella. Your phone was hacked, and it just happened to photoshop intimate pictures of you and Lucas, then conveniently sent them to Claire?"

Isabella's face drained of color. "I—"

Evelyn scoffed, tilting her head. "What kind of phone is this? It’s practically sentient. Maybe I should get one too."

The truth was glaringly obvious.

Lucas had pieced it together—Isabella had set him up. His jaw tightened, anger simmering beneath the surface.

But despite everything, the memories of their past held him back from lashing out.

His eyes flickered toward Claire, but she refused to even glance his way.

As Claire stepped forward, Isabella flinched, throwing her hands over her head. "Claire, don’t hit me! Please, don’t!"

Her panic seemed genuine—until she suddenly lurched forward, crashing straight into Claire.

Behind Claire stood a stone bollard.

The force of the impact sent Claire stumbling back—

Her heel caught on the edge.

She was falling.