ISLA
A cold wave of dread washed over me. My heart pounded in my chest as Oliver walked up to us, his sharp, calculated movements carrying an air of menace that sent a chill down my spine.
His eyes locked onto Ethan and me, dark and unreadable, and I immediately knew this wasn't going to end well.
"Ethan, you should leave," I whispered urgently, turning to him.
Ethan frowned, clearly confused. "Why? I just helped you carry groceries. What's the big deal?"
"Please," I pleaded, my voice shaky. "Just go. Now."
But Ethan hesitated, his brows furrowing in concern. "Isla, what's wrong? You're acting like-"
"Ethan." My voice was more desperate now. "Go. Please."
Before he could respond, Oliver was already standing before us. His jaw clenched tightly, and his piercing gaze locked onto Etha
