Isabella’s POV
“Ethan, we need to talk,” I told him, stepping closer. Even with the distance between us, I could see his frame stiffen. I assumed the silence that followed was because he was surprised at my presence. He’d thought York was the one that had entered his room after all.
I watched as he downed the contents of the glass in one swallow before pouring another.
“Ethan,” I beseeched as the silence stretched on.
He turned sharply. His eyes hardened as he assessed me coldly. “Why are you still here? I told you to leave.”
He stalked past me toward the seating area in the room. On the opposite side was a bed mounted on a slightly raised loft to separate it from the rest of the suite.
I turned to follow Ethan and watched as he took a seat, setting the bottle he’d brought with him on the coffee table and holding the glass in his hand. He was acting as if I wasn't even in the same room.