No Sex for Six Years Because of Her? I'm Done novel Chapter 86

**Title: My Heart Waited Too Long and Choosing Freedom**
**Chapter 86: Cunning Temptress and Foolish Son**

Hannah swiftly dropped to her knees, enveloping her daughter in a tight embrace. The moment she held Isla close, her eyes brimmed with tears, turning a vivid shade of red that mirrored the turmoil in her heart.

With a pained expression, she glanced up at Ethan, desperation etched on her face. “Ethan, please, you mustn’t be angry with Ms. Harlow. This might be my fault. I shouldn’t have let Isla wander into her room and touch her belongings.”

She sniffed, clutching Isla even tighter, as if the act could shield them both from the storm brewing outside. “Children don’t understand the consequences of their actions. But Ms. Harlow’s temper… it’s truly something else; she actually burned everything in that room.”

Ethan’s gaze fell upon the heartbreaking scene of mother and daughter, their vulnerability striking a chord deep within him. In that moment, all rational thought evaporated, replaced by a seething anger directed solely at Amelia.

His expression darkened, shadows creeping across his features. Without uttering a single word, he pivoted and stormed toward the living room, determined to confront the woman he believed had crossed an unforgivable line.

Yet, as he burst through the doorway, he nearly collided with someone standing there.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Grace, having descended the stairs without his notice, seized his arm with a grip that felt as cold as ice.

Ethan, his fury bubbling over and seeing no sign of Amelia, barked, “Where is she? Tell her to get her ass over here right now!”

“Hmph.” A sharp, icy laugh escaped Grace’s lips, her eyes slicing through him like a dagger. “I’m the one who instructed the maid to burn those things. Why are you searching for her?”

From her vantage point upstairs, Grace had witnessed everything—the twisted lies, the theatrics of the mother and daughter duo in the yard. Watching her son being manipulated, believing every deceitful word, was the last straw. That was precisely why she chose to come down.

Ethan stood frozen, disbelief washing over him like a cold wave. “Mom? What did you just say? Y-you’re the one who ordered it burned?”

The revelation made no sense to him. His mother, a staunch guardian of rules and appearances, would never act so recklessly, especially in plain sight.

Before he could fully process her words, Hannah entered the room, Isla at her side, moving with an almost ethereal grace as if she had stepped into a perfectly choreographed moment.

“Grace,” Hannah spoke softly, her voice imbued with a soothing quality, “there’s no need for you to shoulder the blame just to protect Ethan and Ms. Harlow’s relationship.”

“I understand Ms. Harlow is upset. It’s all my fault. In just a moment, I’ll take Isla to apologize to her myself.”

Grace’s eyes narrowed, the warmth that had briefly touched her expression evaporating in an instant.

She fixed Hannah with a sharp, icy glare, her voice low yet brimming with power. “Oh? Are you implying that at my age, I have nothing better to do than fabricate lies? You dare to question my honesty?”

Hannah felt a chill run down her spine, her fake smile now frozen in place.

Knowing Amelia would eventually return, she had deliberately left her scent lingering throughout Amelia’s personal space.

If Amelia had confronted her directly, Hannah would have had a myriad of strategies to defend herself. She could have feigned tears, portrayed herself as a helpless victim, or claimed it was all just a misunderstanding.

But standing in front of someone like Grace—sharp, commanding, and utterly unyielding—every excuse felt weak and insignificant.

Ethan’s expression shifted, a flicker of realization dawning in his eyes.

He wasn’t oblivious. His mother had laid everything bare. He recalled the time he caught Hannah wearing Amelia’s clothes, the memory flooding back with clarity. He turned sharply toward Hannah, his voice now low and cold. “Is Mom telling the truth? Hannah, what’s really going on?”

Hannah’s mind raced, panic rising within her.

Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over.

“It-it was Isla…” she stammered, her voice trembling. “She didn’t understand. She thought my perfume smelled nice, so she sprayed it everywhere. By the time I realized, it was already too late.”

“Oh? So that’s what happened.” A calm voice drifted down from above, cutting through the tension like a knife.

All eyes turned upward. Amelia stood poised on the landing of the stairs, her face devoid of makeup, her expression as tranquil and deep as a still lake—so serene that it was impossible to decipher her thoughts.