Chapter 1 His First Love Returned Sophia Evans could feel her world beginning to crack the moment she heard the news—the woman her husband, Lucas Westwood, had never gotten over was back. When Sophia arrived at the hotel's VIP suite with a gift, she found Lucas's first love—Emily Evans—being humiliated by his childhood friends. "Lick the wine off my shoe, Emily. I'll give you thirty thousand dollars," one of them said. Emily was forced to kneel on the floor, tears in her defiant eyes as she stared shamefully at Lucas. Lucas watched with a dark expression, saying nothing as he held his temper in check. Sophia halted mid-step, struck by the painful familiarity of the scene. Three years ago, when she had first been welcomed into the Evans family, these same privileged young men had tormented her in exactly the same way to gain Emily's favor. But back then, Lucas hadn't worn this expression of utter heartbreak. "There you are," Lucas said as soon as he spotted Sophia, his arm sliding around her waist in a show of intimacy. Only Sophia could feel the desperate pressure of his grip—a silent testament to the pain he was trying to conceal. Lucas's childhood friends had reserved the entire venue for his birthday celebration. But Sophia had never expected Emily to show up here. Everyone knew Lucas had married Sophia just to spite Emily. Three years ago, Emily's identity as a fake heiress was exposed. She broke up with Lucas then and there and left the Evans family behind. Lucas pursued her to the airport, boarded her departing flight, and forced the plane that had already taken off to turn back. Right there on that plane, he proposed to Emily. To his complete surprise, Emily refused without hesitation, declaring that the arranged marriage should be honored by the Evans family's true heiress. Humiliated and acting out of spite, Lucas married Sophia instead. For three years, Sophia had lived as Emily's stand-in. Everyone whispered that if Emily ever returned, Lucas would discard Sophia without a second thought. Sophia had once believed that too, but something had shifted in these past six months—Lucas seemed to be genuinely falling for her. He made grand declarations of love in the press, showered her with luxury homes and cars, and even replaced the cherry tree he'd planted for Emily with a garden full of red roses. In their most tender moments, he'd whisper against her ear, "Let's have a baby, Sophie. I hope they have your smile." Sophia's hand drifted absently to her stomach as she clutched the gift box a little tighter. Inside was a positive pregnancy test—meant to be Lucas's birthday surprise. But now, the timing of the gift felt all wrong. "You still think you're the Evans family princess, Emily? Lucas only has eyes for Sophia now. Why not be with me? A pretty thing like you deserves to be treated right," one of Lucas's friends, Ryan Shaw, sneered. He dragged Emily onto his lap, his hands already roaming over her. "Get your hands off me!" Emily cried, fighting against Ryan's grip as humiliation burned through her. Her resistance only fueled Ryan's excitement. In one swift motion, he shoved her down onto the couch, his powerful body trapping hers. Horrified that Ryan would assault Emily right in front of Lucas, Sophia jumped up to stop him, only to be shoved aside as Lucas already surged into action. As she stumbled, her hands instinctively reached for Lucas's arm, but he brutally shook her off. She hit the floor hard, a jolt of sharp pain shooting from her tailbone straight to her womb. Through the pain-induced haze, she saw Lucas grab Ryan by the collar, drag him off Emily, and pummel his face with brutal, unforgiving fists. "You've overstepped, Ryan. Emily is mine. Even if I discard her, she'll never be yours to touch," Lucas snapped. His words hung in the air, and the entire room fell silent as if frozen in time. Sophia stared at Lucas in disbelief, wondering where she stood in his life now that he had openly claimed Emily as his woman. All eyes in the room were drawn to the scene. Some watched with malicious delight, while others were simply captivated by the unfolding drama. Doubled over in pain, Sophia felt a warm wetness spreading beneath her. Her face paled as a cold dread gripped her heart. "Honey, my stomach hurts," she turned to Lucas instinctively. "Please, take me to the hospital." Without even glancing her way, Lucas removed his jacket and gently placed it around Emily's shoulders. Nestling into his embrace, Emily whispered, her voice trembling, "Lucas, I'm scared. Please take me away from here." "Don't worry," he murmured, holding her close. "I won't let anyone hurt you." Sweeping Emily into his arms, Lucas carried her out of the room, completely ignoring Sophia's pain-racked form shuddering on the floor. Perched comfortably on his shoulder, Emily gazed down at Sophia's crumpled form on the floor, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. The spectators murmured among themselves, still savoring the drama they'd just witnessed. "Emily's definitely the one for Lucas. He hasn't taken his eyes off her all night." "The way Lucas looks at her... I thought it was hatred, but it's clearly something else entirely." "Who could resist someone like her? I certainly wouldn't be able to stay angry." "Poor Sophia. She was just a side character in their love story." At the mention of Sophia's name, the crowd remembered her presence simultaneously, their attention shifting to where she sat. Sophia was in terrible pain and covered in a cold sweat until someone finally noticed her condition and quickly helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?" the guy asked. She gripped his arm tightly as the room spun around her. "Please take me to the hospital. My stomach hurts terribly," she pleaded. Then everything went dark as she fainted. Through the haze of semi-consciousness, distant screams about blood echoed in her ears. When Sophia regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital room. The sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the air as she lay alone in the quiet ward. A nurse tending to her bandages noticed her awakening. "You're awake," she said softly. Sophia's voice came out weak and fearful. "My baby... Is my baby alright?" "Your baby is fine," the nurse reassured her. "But you'll need to take special care. These first few months are particularly delicate in your condition." Relief washed over Sophia as grateful tears fell. "Thank you," she whispered, overwhelmed that her child was safe. Through the emotional turmoil, Sophia's first thought was to share the news with Lucas immediately. Wiping her tears, she reached for her phone and dialed his number. The phone rang several times before Lucas finally picked up. His voice was edged with impatience as he answered, "Not coming home tonight. Don't wait—" "Lucas, my hair's caught in this zipper," Emily's voice interrupted, floating through the line. "Could you give me a hand?" Sophia's knuckles went white around her phone. "Be right there," he said. The call ended before Sophia could form a response. Overnight, things between her and Lucas had reverted to how they were six months ago. Back then, he'd been all cold shoulders and sharp tones. Even in their most intimate moments, he treated her like just another need to be met. To him, she might as well have been a stranger—or worse, just a convenient body. So when he finally let his guard down, she'd been so grateful for the warmth that she fell harder than she ever meant to. She thought her years of longing had finally paid off. But reality slapped her senseless when Lucas chose Emily's safety over their own child's life. After being discharged from the hospital, Sophia caught a taxi home. Midway through the ride, her phone buzzed with a Twitter alert. It was a tweet from Emily: [You told me you'd hold my hand and never let go—not for the rest of our lives.] The attached photo showed Emily dressed like a princess, complete with a tiny crown, her hand locked tightly with a larger, elegant hand. Around the wrist was a bracelet made of prayer beads—the very one Sophia had prayed for in a church last year, when Lucas was burning up with fever. That day, he squeezed her hand and whispered a promise that he would never leave her side. Chapter 2 Ask Him For A Divorce The taxi stopped outside the Nightfall Estate, where Sophia paid the fare and got out of the vehicle. She was just heading inside when a truck carrying young cherry trees rumbled up the drive and stopped near the garden. Workers carefully unloaded the cherry trees and settled them into the prepared holes. Where a vibrant sea of red roses had bloomed just yesterday, now only upturned earth remained, with the plants piled carelessly to the side. A dull ache spread through Sophia's chest as she gazed at the rose petals strewn like crimson tears across the soil. The familiar purr of a luxury car engine approached from behind. Turning around, Sophia saw Lucas step out of the car. He stood tall and straight, radiating a natural air of calm elegance. "Honey..." Sophia began, but the words died on her lips as he leaned back into the car. With gentle care, he helped a woman step out—it was Emily, who looked radiant in an exquisite designer ensemble that made her complexion glow. Only when Emily was steady did Lucas's gaze finally meet Sophia's, those usually warm eyes now regarding her with detached indifference. "Did you need something?" he asked, his tone flat. The cold unfamiliarity in his look struck Sophia's heart like a physical blow. "Why are you tearing out the roses when they were growing so well?" she asked, desperate for his explanation. Those roses had been his special way of confessing his feelings to her. Lucas barely glanced at the destroyed garden. "Emily's not feeling well. She'll be staying with us for a bit." "What does that have to do with the roses?" she pressed. "She's allergic to the pollen," he said curtly, already turning to guide Emily inside. Sophia stood rooted to the spot, her heart breaking. Emily's delicate voice carried through the air. "Lucas, Sophia seems upset. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have complained about the roses." "She doesn't matter to me," Lucas reassured her. "But I worry she'll resent me. Really, I can manage with allergy medication," Emily offered, her voice dripping with false concern. "Medication always has side effects. Don't suggest things that worry me," he replied. Sophia stood motionless as she watched their figures grow smaller in the distance. A silent tear traced its way down her cheek while overwhelming sorrow washed over her. 'I don't matter to him... Yeah, right,' Sophia murmured with bitter irony, the truth of the words settling like a weight in her heart. He hadn't even asked about her absence last night, and now he had ordered her favorite roses to be torn out. The message was clear—she meant less to him than the slightest thought of Emily. For three years, she had devoted herself to him, offering unwavering love and comfort through difficult times. She had believed her constant warmth could thaw even the coldest heart, but Emily's reappearance had erased everything in an instant. She wondered what their intimacy these past six months had truly meant, and what role she had actually played in his life. A sudden twinge in her lower abdomen made her catch her breath. Pale and unsteady, she turned toward the villa. As Sophia stepped into the living room, she saw Emily nestled against Lucas on the sofa, watching with affectionate amusement as he peeled an orange for her. Lucas gently picked away every bit of white pith from the orange segments before arranging them on a plate for Emily. "For you," he said with a soft smile. "Enjoy, my little foodie." As Emily took the plate, she noticed Sophia entering the room. A triumphant smile graced her lips as she called out, "Sophia, would you like some? Lucas peeled these himself. Something you've never experienced, I'm sure." Sophia's gaze fell upon the perfectly prepared orange segments, and she felt a sudden sting behind her eyes. The painful truth was that in all their time together, Lucas had never once peeled an orange for her. She had always been the one serving him. The realization struck her with perfect clarity—Lucas knew well how to be thoughtful, but he simply reserved his kindness for Emily. Sophia felt her heart breaking into pieces as she finally understood how painful comparison could be. "She's perfectly capable of peeling her own fruit," Lucas said dismissively, barely glancing at Sophia. Then he noticed her pale complexion and added, "Are you alright? You look terribly pale." Sophia's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she debated telling Lucas her secret pregnancy. A fragile hope whispered within her—that this truth might finally soften his heart toward her. "I..." Her voice faltered, the words dying on her lips. "If you're ill, see a doctor. This pathetic act is getting tiresome," Lucas said, impatience flashing across his handsome features. He was annoyed by her wounded expression, which seemed to suggest she was the victim of some terrible injustice. Sophia swallowed her unspoken words, her gaze lingering on the man who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. "I'm fine," she murmured. "I'll just go to my room." As she turned toward the staircase, Lucas felt a surge of irritation. 'I must've been too lenient with her, and now she dared to show me attitude,' he thought, fuming. Sophia had only climbed a few steps when the housekeeper, Wendy, appeared descending the stairs with servants carrying boxes. The items looked familiar, but it was the sight of her stuffed doll in Wendy's arms that made Sophia realize everything they carried was hers. In a swift motion, she stepped forward and snatched the doll. Her voice turned icy as she asked, "Wendy, care to explain this?" "Mr. Westwood's orders," Wendy said quietly. "You're to move to the storage room downstairs." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, leaving her mind reeling. She turned to Lucas, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious." They'd already maintained separate bedrooms, but she never imagined that she'd be banished to a storage room instead of even being offered the guest suite after Emily's return. For a fleeting moment under her gaze, Lucas felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly hardened into resolve. "Emily needs the sunroom for her health," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your room gets the best light. It's better for her recovery." The absurdity of it all drew a bitter laugh from Sophia's lips. She thought his previous cruelty—shoving her while pregnant and replacing her roses with Emily's cherry trees—had been the worst it could get. But this new humiliation surpassed even that. All Lucas had done since Emily's return yesterday was talk about her. In just one day, she had turned Sophia's whole life upside down. Sophia expected to feel rage, but instead found only a hollow emptiness settling in her chest. 'Look at him, Sophia,' Sophia thought bitterly. 'This is the man you gave your heart and soul to. Was any of it worth it?' "If you're so worried about her comfort, why not just move her into your room? The master suite gets the best light anyway," Sophia shot back. Lucas responded sharply, "Sophia, you need to watch your tone." Emily's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I know you don't want me here, Sophia. I'll go. Please don't fight with Lucas over me." Sophia saw right through Emily's act. A humorless laugh escaped her as she spat, "You're not going anywhere. I am." Tightening her grip on the stuffed doll, she turned and headed for the door. "Don't you dare, Sophia." Lucas rose to his feet, his voice cutting through the room. "Walk out that door now, and don't expect to ever come back." Sophia's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "I'll make sure you receive the divorce papers," she said, her voice cold and steady. "See that you sign them." "You're asking me for a divorce?" Lucas's voice was low, thick with barely restrained fury. He added, his tone edged with contempt, "Have you forgotten who gave you this life, Sophia? The luxury, the status—all of it came from me. Without my name, you're just that wide-eyed girl fresh off that forgotten little town. You don't get to leave." Chapter 3 The Replaced Medical Result Sophia didn't need to look back to know the condescending smirk that was surely on Lucas's face. She knew he had always despised her. His proposal three years ago had been motivated only by a desire to fulfill the marriage agreement between their families and to exact revenge on Emily. She had been naive enough to believe his empty promises, offering him her genuine love when he saw her as nothing more than a pawn. To him, she would always be a leech, clinging to his wealth and name for survival. But now, she had reached her limit, and she no longer wanted him in her life. Sophia walked out without a backward glance. As she stepped through the gateway, the sound of shattering porcelain echoed behind her, but she no longer cared. Lucas stood amid the shattered remains, fingers pressed to his temples. His face was a mask of simmering anger. He dismissed the mention of divorce as just another one of her calculated moves, a transparent attempt to get his attention by pulling away. Emily watched him hesitantly. "Maybe I shouldn't be staying here, Lucas. Sophia seemed really upset." "It's nothing," Lucas replied evenly. Seeing how the mention of divorce had affected him, she suggested softly, "You could go after her. Women usually respond well to a little reassurance." "I don't have time for that," Lucas said, turning toward the staircase. With a business trip looming, his mind was elsewhere. 'Let her make a scene if she wants to,' he thought. 'She'll cool off and come crawling back. She always does.' ***** Sophia's home was a beautiful 3,200-square-foot apartment with an open-concept layout and sleek modern decor—all paid for with her own earnings. In her study, she printed the divorce papers and a letter resigning from her position. With a steady hand, she signed both, and then summoned a courier to deliver them directly to the Westwood Group. When she married Lucas three years ago, Sophia had joined his company, hoping to build a genuine connection with him. She started at the very bottom as an assistant and gradually earned her way up to department manager. She had wanted nothing more than to be close to him—in their home and at work. But in the end, her efforts were met with cold indifference. Gazing downward, Sophia softly cradled her stomach. "It's just us now, little one," she whispered. The courier arrived at Westwood headquarters while Lucas was away. His chief executive assistant, Kevin Chapman, received the delivery and signed. The moment Kevin saw the contents, he reached for the phone, dialing Lucas's number in haste. "Mr. Westwood, your wife has sent divorce documents." "Burn it all." On the other side of the ocean, Lucas loosened his tie as an unexpected wave of irritation came over him. "But Mrs. Westwood has even submitted her resignation letter..." Kevin replied, his tone hesitant. "She can't survive without this family." The blue flame from Lucas's lighter highlighted the grim set of his features. "Let her be. She'll come crawling back once reality sets in." Meanwhile, Sophia remained completely unaware of his words. Her morning had begun with a call from her mother-in-law, Helen Westwood. "Where are you? Return at once," Helen commanded in her typically imperious manner, leaving no room for discussion. Complying, Sophia drove back to the estate. No sooner had she stepped inside than a velvet box came hurling toward her head, which she narrowly avoided by stepping aside. Helen's shrill voice pierced the air. "How dare you avoid that? You've got some nerve." Sophia's gaze fell upon the velvet box at her feet, and suddenly, she understood why it seemed familiar. She remembered purchasing that exact box to store her pregnancy test results. On Lucas's birthday, she had intended to present it to him as a gift, but he had accidentally pushed her before she could give it to him, resulting in her hospitalization. Her heart leaped as she turned to face Helen's livid expression. 'Could she know about the pregnancy? But something about her reaction seems strange,' she wondered. For three years, Helen had made no secret of her disapproval of Sophia, someone raised in a small town. Yet every time Sophia visited the Westwood residence with Lucas, Helen would consistently nag Sophia about starting a family soon. If Helen knew Sophia was pregnant, she was supposed to be absolutely delighted instead of reacting like this. Helen clutched a medical report, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared down Sophia. "For three years, I've watched your marriage to Lucas, wondering why you never conceived. Now I understand—he married a barren woman. "If you hadn't left this at the hotel and Lucas's friend hadn't been kind enough to deliver it, I'd still be in the dark about your condition." Heart pounding with shock, Sophia ignored Helen's murderous gaze and snatched the document from her hand. The clinical report lay cold and pale in the morning light. There was her name, clearly printed, alongside the devastating diagnosis: "permanent infertility." 'Permanent infertility? But that's impossible. I'm pregnant. Someone must have switched my test results. But who would do such a thing?' Sophia wondered. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "This isn't my..." Emily, who had remained silent until now, suddenly interrupted, "Sophia, the Westwood lineage has been passed down through a single heir for ten generations. Are you trying to ensure Lucas dies without an heir? To extinguish the family line completely?" "How utterly heartless!" Helen exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Sophia as her anger reached its peak. "We've welcomed you with open arms since you married into this family. Yet you've been hiding this from us? To think you'd let our family line die out—it's truly despicable!" she added. Sophia didn't even attempt to explain herself. If they wanted to believe she was barren, so be it—it would only simplify the divorce proceedings. "I only received the results two days ago. I hadn't found the right moment to share the news," Sophia replied, her voice calm. "This wasn't about finding the right moment. You did this intentionally," Helen retorted, her face contorted with rage. "And you planned to give this to Lucas as a gift? What kind of twisted mind would conceive such a thing?" Sophia maintained her silence. Helen took a measured breath, forcing her anger down. "If you can't conceive naturally, I won't hold it against you. I've spoken with Emily, and she's agreed to donate her eggs so you and Lucas can pursue in vitro fertilization." Sophia stared in disbelief at the unexpected turn. "Could you repeat that?" She believed she had misheard because the suggestion was both preposterous and deeply offensive. "If you can't conceive, that's your problem. Emily is being extraordinarily generous by offering her eggs. The least you could do is show some appreciation instead of this ingratitude," Helen sneered. A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. "Perhaps you'd like to accept this generous offer yourself?" "How dare you speak to me like that!" Helen's eyes flashed with fury. "Sophia, you shouldn't speak to Mrs. Westwood that way. She was suggesting that for your sake," Emily said in a honeyed tone, reaching for the glass. As she moved, she made certain to display the prayer beads circling her delicate wrist. Sophia's breath caught—she would recognize the bracelet anywhere. That was the very ones she had sacrificed so much to obtain while praying for Lucas's recovery. It felt like a personal insult, seeing the bracelet that symbolized her love for Lucas now clasped around Emily's wrist. "For my sake?" Sophia repeated, the words tasting bitter as she caught the sly glint of satisfaction in Emily's eyes. It sent a sharp ache through her. She knew this game all too well. Emily had a gift for twisting people's vulnerabilities to her advantage, a lesson Sophia had learned the hard way three years ago. "I'm infertile. What possible use could I have for your eggs?" Sophia asked, her voice cold. "Do you really think I need a constant reminder of what I can't have?" Emily's smile vanished. For Helen's benefit, she bit her lip, her eyes instantly welling with feigned hurt. "Mrs. Westwood," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "I was only trying to help Sophia." Helen immediately comforted Emily by patting her hand. She then shot Sophia a disapproving look. "How can you be so selfish, Sophia? Are you really determined to let the Westwood family line die out?" Sophia gestured dismissively toward Emily. "Well, if she's so fertile, let her handle the baby-making." The thought of Emily getting to be a mother the easy way turned Sophia's stomach. Chapter 4 Take Back Her Things The color drained from both Helen's and Emily's faces. Helen stepped forward, jabbing a finger toward Sophia. "You think you're better than us? Then you give the Westwood family an heir. Don't blame anyone else for your own useless womb." Sophia bit back the sharp retort on her tongue. She was done with this family, done with Lucas. Arguing now would only prolong the inevitable. "Mrs. Westwood," she began, "I've decided—" Lucas's familiar, deep voice cut through the tension from the doorway. "Decided what?" Sophia turned to see Lucas standing there, his clothes rumpled from travel. His assistant, Kevin, hovered behind him with a suitcase in hand. The air in the room was thick with tension, so Kevin knew better than to stay. He simply left the suitcase by the door and made a quick exit. Loosening his tie, Lucas turned to Helen. "Mom, what brings you here?" "If I hadn't come, you'd have let our family name die out," Helen shot back. She then snatched the medical report from Sophia and flung it at Lucas's chest. "See for yourself," she said coldly, and with that, she swept out of the room. Lucas looked down at the document in his hands, and the words "permanent infertility" caused a faint twitch in his brow. His eyes, when they finally lifted to meet Sophia's, were devoid of warmth. "You'll go back to the hospital tomorrow for a full work-up. I will not have a wife who can't give me an heir." A hollow ache spread through Sophia's chest. Any foolish hope she'd been clinging to finally faded. Lucas had never defended her in three years of his mother's constant belittlement. And now, the ease with which he believed this lie revealed the chilling truth of his character. "I have the divorce papers right here," Sophia said, pulling the documents from her bag. She extended them toward him, her voice steady. "Just sign them, and you'll never have to see me again." Lucas didn't even look at the papers. In one swift motion, his hand closed around her throat, pulling her close. He leaned in until his face was mere inches from hers, and she could feel his warm breath and smell the familiar scent of his cologne. There was a time when this closeness would have made her heart flutter. Now, it only made her skin crawl. It was amazing how easy it was to walk away when all the love had drained away. "Sophia, have I been too soft with you?" Lucas's voice was thick with contempt. "Where exactly do you think you'll go without my protection?" She held his gaze without flinching. "That's really none of your concern anymore." "Still got that sharp tongue," he sneered. He released her with a dismissive shove, as if her defiance meant nothing. "Go make me dinner. I'm hungry." A wave of pain shot through Sophia's lower abdomen as she sank into the sofa, her skin turning clammy with an instant, cold sweat. Across the room, Emily slid her arm through Lucas's with practiced ease. "Don't let Sophia bother you," she murmured. "Her little scene was just a cry for your attention." Lucas pulled his tie free, his stern expression melting away as he focused on Emily. "How are you holding up?" he asked, his tone gentler. "I'm fine," she sighed, putting on a pitiful face. "It's just that the medicine is so awfully bitter." "It's bitter because it's strong. You need to keep taking it," he reminded her. "I picked up those candies you like. They're in my suitcase. Go get them yourself." "I know you always look out for me," Emily said, stretching up to press a light kiss to Lucas's cheek. "Consider that your reward." A look of quiet satisfaction crossed his features at the gesture. "I'm going up to shower," he said. "Go ahead," Emily said sweetly, fluttering a wave at him. She waited until Lucas's footsteps faded up the staircase before turning to the suitcase. They carried on as if Sophia weren't standing right there in the same room. Humming cheerfully, Emily unzipped the luggage. Alongside Lucas's neatly folded clothes sat a jar of shimmering candies and an elegant red velvet box that clearly held something valuable. Her eyes skipped over the candy, going straight to the velvet box. When she lifted the lid, a pink diamond necklace lay gleaming, its facets scattering rainbows in the light. "Oh, it's exquisite. I love it," she whispered, her eyes widening. "So the candy was just a decoy. This necklace is what he really wanted me to find." Draping the necklace against her collarbone, Emily turned to face Sophia, who had risen from the sofa. "Well, Sophia? Don't you think it suits me perfectly?" The pink diamond necklace around Emily's neck struck Sophia as oddly familiar. It came to her a moment later—she had coveted it last month while flipping through a magazine. Lucas had seen her fascination and promised to get it for her. The catch was its exclusivity—a single piece, sourced from Melaria, the country where Lucas had been attending to business. "That was for me," Sophia said, her voice calm. The man was disposable, but her possessions were not. She would reclaim what was rightfully hers. With a swift motion, Emily clasped the necklace. "Finders keepers," she said with a mocking grin. Sophia approached for a closer look. Though the necklace was more exquisite than its photograph, any desire for it had vanished. A wary look crossed Emily's face. "What is this about?" "To take what belongs to me, of course," Sophia said, stepping close and extending her hand. "It's time you returned it." Emily's hands instinctively flew to the diamond necklace at her throat. "Lucas will never stand for this, Sophia. You know what I mean to him." Sophia almost laughed. She knew well that Emily held a special place in Lucas's heart. But that was irrelevant. She was only claiming what was hers. "Give the bracelet back to me," Sophia said coldly. It was a token earned through true devotion, and she wouldn't let its significance be tarnished. Realizing Sophia only wanted the simple bracelet, Emily smiled condescendingly. 'Some shortsighted people have no taste,' she thought. Emily twisted the bracelet around her wrist. "I heard you went to Grace Abbey to beg for this good-luck charm," she said. "You are so hung up on him, aren't you?" The hypocrisy of her words was almost laughable. "Give it back," Sophia said, her voice like ice. Emily's eyes flickered to a point behind Sophia, and a sly smile touched her lips. She lowered her voice. "If you want it so badly, why don't you come and take it?" Sophia didn't stop to think. She grabbed Emily's wrist and tugged the bracelet free. The moment it was off, Emily's demeanor shifted completely. "Sophia, what are you doing?" she cried out, her voice suddenly loud and panicked. "Lucas gave this to me." Before Sophia could even turn around, a powerful hand seized her by the collar and hauled her backwards. The fabric dug sharply into her throat, stealing her breath. Stumbling to regain her footing, Sophia looked up to see Lucas. He was already cradling Emily. "Emily, are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern. Emily buried her face in his chest. "I'm fine," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Please, don't be angry with Sophia. She didn't mean it." Lucas's jaw tightened, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. He took a deep breath and fixed Sophia with an icy stare. "Apologize to Emily." Chapter 5 She Wants A Clean Break A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. She had fooled herself into thinking she was numb to Lucas's coldness. But his command still sent a fresh, sharp pain through her chest. She knew there was no point arguing with a man who had already chosen the other woman's side. "I won't apologize," Sophia said, her fist closing tightly around the bracelet. "What for?" Emily looked up at Lucas with well-practiced vulnerability. "I'm causing trouble here, Lucas. I should go." Lucas caught her wrist before she could take a second step. "You're staying right here." His attention snapped back to Sophia, his expression darkening. "Now, Sophia, apologize to Emily." The room blurred as tears filled Sophia's eyes, twisting his familiar face into a stranger's. She lifted the simple bracelet between them. "This is my stuff in the first place. Since when is taking back what was stolen a crime?" "Your stuff? Since when do you have anything of your own?" Lucas's lips curled in a sneer. "I've paid for every stitch of clothing on your back." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, forcing a bitter laugh from her lips. He knew perfectly well she earned her own living, yet he took every opportunity to demean her. "This bracelet came from Grace Abbey," she countered, her voice trembling. "You didn't pay a cent for it." Lucas's eyes dropped to the simple beads in her palm. "You think I care about some cheap bracelet?" he scoffed. Hot tears streamed down Sophia's face without warning. Wiping them away, Sophia made a silent vow—this would be the last time he reduced her to this. "Fine!" With one sharp motion, she snapped the bracelet's cord, sending beads skittering across the floor. Lucas watched the scattered beads come to rest, his hand curling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. He knew how much that bracelet meant to her, but the moment Emily wanted it, he didn't hesitate to take it off and hand it over. Lucas's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "Sophia!" "I want a divorce," Sophia said, her voice eerily calm. As she opened her hand, the last bead from the bracelet clattered onto the floor between them. "Let's just end this." The sound was small, but in the tense silence, it was deafening, echoing in Lucas's mind. He let out a short laugh, his gaze locked on her. "You think a threat will work? You should know better than that by now." 'This has to be a ploy,' he thought to himself. 'She loves me too much to go through with it. She has accepted her role as Emily's replacement from the beginning and has never once tried to leave. 'She would never have the strength to walk away from me.' "Go make us something to eat, and we can forget this ever happened." Lucas was certain he had thrown Sophia a lifeline. He waited, fully expecting her to be overcome with relief and scurry off to the kitchen. He'd been away on business, and days of unfamiliar rich food had left his stomach unsettled. What he craved was Sophia's cooking—simple, hearty food that tasted like home. It was a flavor he couldn't find anywhere else. "You can go eat your ass," Sophia shot back. She picked up her bag, her lips twisting into a scornful smile, and walked out without a backward glance. That smile grated on Lucas's nerves more than the insult itself. In his frustration, his eyes fell on the string of prayer beads lying scattered on the floor, and he gave them an impatient kick. 'So that's her game. She wants to challenge me? I'd like to see just how long her resolve will hold,' he thought, fuming. ***** Sophia sped away from Nightfall Estate, her phone buzzing relentlessly on the passenger seat. Lucas's name flashed across the screen again and again until she finally grabbed it and blocked his number for good. When she looked up at the road, she blinked, her vision blurring for a moment. She braced for the familiar sting of tears, but when her fingers touched her skin, it was dry. It was only then that she noticed the soft patter against the windshield. A fine drizzle had begun to fall, and a quiet melancholy settled over her, as gray as the sky. Up ahead, the flickering hazard lights of a sleek black car broke the rhythm of the rain. A man in a soaked suit, looking to be in his forties, stood beside it, waving frantically at passing traffic. Almost without conscious thought, Sophia found herself flipping on her turn signal and pulling over. She rolled down her window as the man rushed over. "Everything okay?" she asked. "It's my boss," the man said, his voice tight with panic. "He's having a heart attack. The ambulance is stuck in a multi-car accident. Please, can you take us to the hospital?" Sophia hesitated. Letting two strange men into her car, especially in this weather, felt dangerous. Every cautionary tale she'd ever heard flashed through her mind. Seeing her hesitation, the man added urgently, "I promise we're not dangerous. My boss is—" But Sophia was already moving, cutting the engine and stepping out into the downpour. "Just get him to my car, now," she called out as she rushed toward their vehicle. As she got closer, she recognized the distinctive emblem of the black Maybach. Working together, they carefully transferred the elderly man from the luxury sedan into Sophia's more modest car. The old man's lips were tinged with blue, and each ragged breath seemed like a struggle, clear signs of his critical condition. Sliding behind the wheel, Sophia started the car and pulled back onto the road, pushing through the veils of rain. In the backseat, the middle-aged man was a whirlwind of activity on his phone, coordinating with a hospital and alerting the family. Beyond the windows, the storm seemed to intensify, as if trying to match the urgency inside the car. After ensuring everything was in place, the man turned to Sophia with heartfelt appreciation. "You're the only one who stopped in this downpour. We can't thank you enough." A warm smile touched Sophia's lips. "Some things are just meant to be." ***** Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital entrance where medical staff stood ready. The team swiftly transferred the elderly man to a stretcher and hurried him inside for emergency care. Just as Sophia was about to drive away, she spotted a lone leather shoe in the backseat—the one the elderly man had been wearing. After a moment's hesitation, she parked properly and carried the shoe to the reception desk, logging it as a lost item. Sophia was just turning to leave when a group emerged from the hospital's main entrance. At the front of the group was a man whose height and posture commanded attention. He turned his sharp gaze on her, and the intensity in his eyes was so commanding that it felt like a physical pressure. 'That frown means trouble,' Sophia thought. She averted her gaze and continued walking, brushing past the group without a second look. It wasn't until she was back in the driver's seat that she felt the chill of her wet clothes clinging to her skin. As she dried her hair with a towel from the backseat, a notification popped up on her phone while she was opening the navigation app. It was a post from Emily: [Nothing says 'forever' like a soft-boiled egg made with love! My ultimate comfort food.] The post featured two photos—one showed a soft-boiled egg with a ketchup heart, and the other captured a tall man's back as he stood at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Sophia couldn't help but compare. When she was with Lucas, he had acted like even pouring her a glass of water was a significant concession. Cooking a meal was utterly out of the question. The fact that he was now cooking for Emily spoke volumes about where his true affections lay. She closed the page and entered her apartment address into the navigation system before driving out of the parking lot. As she watched the heavy rain outside, a single decisive thought crystallized in her mind—this marriage was over. Chapter 6 Return The Trash To The Dumpster That evening, a text came through from Annabelle Quinn, Sophia's best friend since college, insisting they go out to a lounge. The old Sophia would have declined immediately, conditioned to obey Lucas's rule about her not going out. But now that Sophia was divorcing him, his opinions held no weight. ***** The moment Sophia stepped out of the car, she saw Annabelle waiting by the entrance. "Hope you haven't been waiting long," she said as she approached. "Just got here," Annabelle grinned, looping her arm through Sophia's. "So, what's the special occasion? Did you finally get a night off from your sweetheart?" Sophia struggled to find the words, but she couldn't keep it from her best friend. "I'm getting a divorce," she finally said. "Let me guess," Annabelle said, not one to mince words in front of her best friend. "This is about Emily being back, isn't it?" "It's not just that," Sophia admitted, her voice quiet. It just took seeing the difference for herself to truly see how little her three years of effort had meant. Annabelle threw a supportive arm around Sophia's shoulders. "You should have woken up to this a long time ago." For three years, she had watched Sophia lose herself in a hollow relationship, and it killed Annabelle to see her friend throw everything away for a man who never appreciated her. "Better late than never," Sophia offered with a weak smile. "Damn right it is," Annabelle declared. "Tonight, I'm getting us the best male models in town. You deserve some real attention." They ascended into the pulsating heart of the club, pushing through the glittering crowd toward the exclusive booth Annabelle had booked. As they moved past the entrance to a private booth, a burst of laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway. Amid the noise, Sophia's own name caught her sharp ear. "Got to hand it to Lucas. The minute Emily was back, he moved her right in. Word is, he showed Sophia the door." "Well, she had it coming. Play the simp, and you lose it all. Seriously though, that night in the booth with all the blood? I truly thought a tragedy had occurred, but it was probably just her period." "You're thinking about that? Man, have you had a thing for Sophia all along?" "Who'd pine after some nobody from a backwater? Only Lucas, with his unique preferences, would stick around for three years." "Guess the novelty wore off. Time for a change." Standing in the hallway, Sophia felt a cold stillness settle behind her eyes. The voices clicked into place—Lucas's oldest friends. They had been there that night, spectators to her most shameful moment. Annabelle's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind." But as she moved toward the door, Sophia stopped her with a gentle hand. "This is my battle to fight," Sophia said firmly. With that, Sophia pushed the door open and swept into the room. She settled gracefully onto the sofa, joining their conversation with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you're talking about unique preferences, I top him," she began, her voice deceptively light, "I recycled what Emily threw away. But it looks like I did everyone a favor by returning the trash to the dumpster where it belongs." A stunned silence fell over the room. Every face on the circular sofa stared at her in horrified fascination. Unbeknownst to Sophia, two figures had entered the room behind her during her speech. The guests' eyes darted nervously between Sophia and the newcomers, the air thickening with tension. There stood Lucas and Emily, their expressions dark as storm clouds. Their presence made Sophia turn. Her eyes instantly met the cold, dark stare of Lucas. But she didn't back down. A defiant shrug lifted her shoulders. "Look what the cat dragged in. My trash husband." Emily's eyes instantly glistened with tears. "Sophia, ignore them," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "It's all lies. Lucas and I are just friends." As if to prove her point, she clutched Lucas's arm. "Tell her, Lucas. Make her understand there's nothing going on between us." Sophia's gaze dropped to the hand clinging to Lucas's arm, and a faint, derisive smile touched her mouth. 'Just friends? Did she really expect anyone to believe that?' she thought bitterly. Lucas detached himself from Emily's grip and closed the distance between him and Sophia. The motion broke the tension, stirring his friends into action. "Hey, Lucas, take it easy," one of them said, stepping forward. "She's just reacting to our stupid jokes." "Come on, Sophia, just say you're sorry to Lucas," another one urged. "You know he'll forgive you." The suggestion made Sophia want to laugh bitterly. 'Is this really how they see me? As some lovesick fool who'd come crawling back at the first sign of forgiveness?' she thought. It explained everything—why, for three years, they had shown her phony respect as Lucas's wife while mocking her devotion in private. She had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn't met Lucas seven years ago, if that fateful incident hadn't tied her to him, she would have moved on with her life long ago. "Are you quite done?" Lucas's voice cut through her thoughts as he reached for her arm. She shifted her weight gracefully, letting his hand close on empty air. The rejected gesture hung between them for a beat too long before he withdrew, his features tightening with displeasure. Turning to Emily, who was now dabbing at her eyes, Sophia arched a brow. "There's no need for the waterworks. You're making it look like I'm the one being cruel here." "Sophia, I've treated you like my elder sister. I—" Emily began, trying to defend herself. "Don't," Sophia interrupted, her voice cool. "We arrived minutes apart, and you were first. Let's skip the emotional act." Emily's face turned from pale to deep red as she clenched her jaw in fury. 'Since when has Sophia found this kind of nerve? She used to shrink into silence whenever Lucas was near,' she thought. Despite her three-year absence from the city, Emily had ensured she received every scrap of information about Sophia's life. She knew all about Sophia's pathetic attempts to please Lucas, and she knew exactly how little he cared for his wife. She even knew they kept separate bedrooms, and that on the occasional night Lucas spent with Sophia, he always sent her back to her own room afterward. She knew that to Lucas, Sophia was just a body—convenient, disposable, and utterly unimportant. With a dark expression, Lucas grabbed Sophia's wrist and began pulling her toward the exit. Sophia's answer was a sharp, stinging slap across his cheek. The sound cracked through the air, and a dead silence fell over the room. All eyes were fixed on Sophia in pure shock. Everyone was wondering if she had lost her mind to dare something like that. Lucas slowly worked his jaw, the look in his eyes so dark that it promised retribution. When Sophia resisted, Lucas didn't hesitate. He swept her up onto his shoulder and carried her out of the room. The sight made Emily's heart clench. She'd never seen Lucas be so patient with anyone. Before she knew it, her hand was on his arm. "Lucas..." He didn't turn his head, but some of the tension left his expression. "I'm taking her home," he said firmly. "The driver will return for you when you're ready." Emily could only watch as Lucas walked away with Sophia. She had no right to stop him, but it stung—this was the first time he'd ever left her for another woman, especially one who meant nothing. Her hands tightened at her sides. 'I gave you a chance to walk away quietly, Sophia. You brought this on yourself,' she thought. Sophia's protests echoed down the hallway as she struggled against Lucas's hold. Unsure what was happening between the couple, Annabelle turned away, pretending she hadn't noticed them. Lucas carried Sophia into the elevator and stepped out briskly when it reached the basement level. As the car door opened, Lucas tossed Sophia into the back seat. Struggling upright, she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea from the prolonged time she'd spent upside down. She opened her mouth to curse, but the words died on her lips as the tinted window of a nearby Maybach began to descend. In the shadowy interior, the man's profile was sharp and forbidding. His lips were set in a firm line, and he sat with the imposing stillness of an iceberg, his presence pushing others away. Sensing her gaze, he glanced over, and their eyes locked. Without a word, Sophia averted her gaze and hid her face behind a veil of tangled hair. Chapter 7 Not Her Home Anymore Lucas's black Bentley pulled out of the underground parking garage, but Sophia was still lost in thought about those intense eyes. There was something familiar about them, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen them before. Lucas's voice broke the silence. "Did you follow me here? What are you so concerned about?" "What?" Sophia asked, snapping back to reality. Keeping his eyes on the road, Lucas tried to explain. "You know how my friends are—they never think before they speak. Don't take their words seriously. There's nothing going on between Emily and me." 'If there's really nothing between them, why was he being so protective? He only rushed me out because he was worried I might cause a scene and embarrass Emily,' Sophia thought. "Sure," Sophia said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You and Emily are completely innocent." "I'm trying to explain myself here," Lucas said, his patience wearing thin. "Do you have to be so sarcastic?" Her ungrateful attitude was beginning to irritate him. He remembered how she used to soften at the slightest reassurance. Now, it seemed her patience had worn thin. "Understood," Sophia said, her tone flat. "Is that all?" "I've been clear from the beginning—you are my wife, and that won't change. But if you want this marriage to work, you need to drop your little tricks. I won't play these games." Sophia stayed quiet, struck by his assumption that her mention of divorce was merely a plea for attention. Her silence tightened the air between them. "Don't become someone I resent, Sophia," he said with a frown, his voice low. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips as she turned toward the window, shutting him out completely. Sensing he had pushed too far, Lucas eased his tone. "I had your things moved back to our room. If you want to stay with me, just say so. There's no need for all this." Sophia was left speechless. ***** As the car came to a stop in the courtyard of Nightfall Estate, Sophia stepped out. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the cherry blossom grove in the garden. The sight sent a sharp pang through her chest. She forced her gaze away and continued into the villa. Inside, the decor had been completely redone. The new style, with its unmistakable resemblance to the Evans residence, clearly revealed who had overseen the renovations. She moved through rooms that felt entirely alien to her now, but she kept her thoughts to herself since this was no longer her home. Wendy looked surprised when she saw Sophia. "Mrs. Westwood, you've returned. Have you had your supper?" Sinking into the plush pink sofa, Sophia answered quietly, "Yes, thank you." Wendy offered a tight smile before retreating to her quarters to make a hurried phone call to Helen, reporting the unexpected arrival. Helen had never approved of Sophia, whom she saw as a plain nobody not good enough for her son. The infertility diagnosis hardened Helen's resolve to rush the divorce so Lucas could marry someone worthy of giving her grandchildren. The news of Sophia's sudden return after her dramatic departure kept Helen tossing and turning all night. Lucas had been certain Sophia would confront him about the complete makeover of their home. He stood ready to smooth things over, but she walked through the rooms without comment, her silence leaving him more unsettled than any argument would have. "If the decor isn't to your taste..." Lucas moved to sit beside her, his arms beginning to encircle her. Sophia reached for a throw pillow, tucking it between them as she shifted away from his embrace. The gentle rejection stung, though Lucas reassured himself that this was the same woman who had always adored him. "It's true. I prefer my original choices," she said calmly. "Can you have everything returned to how it was?" The warm, elegant furnishings had vanished, replaced by the overwhelming pinks that Emily favored—a transformation that had turned their home into something resembling a kitschy boutique hotel. Lucas shifted uncomfortably. "Let's not make a big deal out of it. You'll get used to the way things are around here." A faint, knowing smile curved on Sophia's lips as she met his gaze. That smile never failed to get under his skin. "Try to see it from her perspective, Sophia," he said, his voice tightening. "After everything she's been through these past three years, all Emily wants is to feel like she belongs." A wave of exhaustion washed over her. It was like talking to a brick wall. "I know," she said flatly. "You have your entire family backing you up," Lucas shot back, his patience clearly wearing thin. "But Emily? She has nobody else. Is it really so hard for you to be a little more compassionate?" "Funny," Sophia replied, her tone icy. "I was under the impression my adoptive parents were still very much alive." Besides, the Evans family had never once ceased to think about Emily throughout those three years. They made trip after trip to Felarica to celebrate Emily's birthdays and attend her parties. They even missed Sophia's wedding to Lucas because of her. A single social media post from Emily, complaining of her loneliness in Felarica, was all it took for them to drop everything and fly to her side. "Now that you've made it out of that dead-end town, you should be the last person to let Emily sink into it," he shot back. As Sophia looked at him, the last glimmer of hope in her eyes vanished. She knew well enough to stop mentioning divorce. To Lucas, it was just another act—proof that she was the same desperate woman the world thought her to be. If she couldn't get through to Lucas, she was going to find another path. Now, with her infertility diagnosis, she knew Helen would be far more impatient to act on this news. Sophia retreated to the master bedroom. Her possessions had claimed their space, with her clothes occupying half of the vast closet. A sense of normalcy had finally settled between her and Lucas, the kind that belongs to a husband and wife. But it was a fragile peace, already beginning to fray. Lucas was still in the living room when Emily returned. The air around her carried the sharp tang of liquor. Her face was deeply flushed, and she swayed slightly as she walked. He was at her side in an instant, his hand gently steadying her. "You've had far too much to drink," he murmured, his brow furrowed with worry. "This isn't good for you. I don't want to see you like this again." Emily turned into him, her arms finding their way around his neck. "I couldn't help it," she whispered, her voice thick with drink and emotion. "It's the only thing that dulls the ache." Sensing her legs might give way, he simply gathered her into his arms. "Wendy," he said to the housekeeper who had appeared, heading for the stairs. "Would you bring up some electrolyte water for Emily?" "Understood," Wendy replied. Playing the part of the drunken mess, Emily clung to Lucas and sobbed into his chest. "I've always regretted it," she cried. "Letting my pride push you away was the biggest mistake of my life." A long-buried tenderness tugged at Lucas's heart. "Let's try again, Lucas. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice," she whispered, tilting her face up to his. Just as their lips were about to meet, the master bedroom door swung open, and the sudden movement startled the couple in the hallway. Sophia stood in the doorway in her pajamas, watching them with a completely expressionless face. Lucas instantly snapped back to reality, and a rare look of panic flashed across his handsome face. "Sophie, Emily is drunk," he said quickly. "I'm just taking her back to her room." Still draped around him, Emily met Sophia's eyes over Lucas's shoulder. The tears were gone, replaced by a cool, triumphant smirk that held no trace of intoxication. Sophia's mouth curved into a humorless smile as she replied, "Yes, and you're drunk too." Without another word, she stepped back and slammed the door, the turn of the lock echoing decisively behind her. The idea of sleeping next to Lucas made her blood boil. She honestly didn't trust herself to lie beside him all night without her rage getting the better of her. Chapter 8 Divorce Settlement The next morning, as Sophia left her room, the guest room door across the hall opened at the exact same time. Lucas was stepping out, finishing with his tie. He glanced up and went completely still, finding Sophia already watching him from their bedroom doorway. Surprise flashed across his face, and he started with an explanation. "She was a mess last night," he said, his voice low. "I couldn't just leave her." Sophia's eyes dropped to the bright red smudge on his collar. Her eyes were filled with silent scorn as she thought about how filthy it was. She said with icy calm, "Relax, I know perfectly well that nothing would ever happen between you two, even when you don't have a stitch of clothing on." Her words cut off whatever excuse Lucas was about to offer. Anger darkened his features. "Think what you want," he snapped. "My feelings for her are purely brotherly." Sophia's eyes fell to the lipstick stain on his collar again. "So, how does it feel to be so close to your 'sister'?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Following her line of sight, Lucas saw the evidence, and a shadow of guilt crossed his face. "It was an accident," he insisted, his voice tight. "Don't make it sound so sordid." "So filthy," she murmured, shaking her head. As he drew a sharp breath to retaliate, she added with a cold smile, "I mean your shirt." He stared at her, his expression turning to stone. She merely offered a careless shrug and walked away, leaving him fuming in the hallway. Downstairs, Sophia was halfway through her breakfast when her phone vibrated on the table. A quick glance at the screen confirmed it was Helen calling. Just then, Wendy appeared with two additional breakfast plates. Sophia swiped to answer the call, a deliberate smile directed at Wendy. "You're calling so early, Mrs. Westwood." The pointed smile made Wendy's blood run cold, and at the mention of Mrs. Westwood, she was reminded of betraying Sophia by reporting to Helen last night. Stricken with guilt, she almost fumbled the tray. She dropped the plates onto the table and hastily retreated to the safety of the kitchen. A faint, cold smile touched Sophia's lips as Helen's venomous voice filled her ear. "Utterly devoid of manners," Helen sneered. "What else can you expect from someone with such a common background?" Sophia's eyes turned to ice. "Trace any lineage back three generations, Mrs. Westwood, and you'll find humble roots. It's distasteful to scorn your own origins." Helen found herself at a loss for words. Though Lucas's parents both had city roots, his grandparents' generation had all struggled in a backwater. Helen's parents had even lived in a cowshed. So in that regard, Helen was no better than Sophia. "That sharp tongue of yours is exactly why people can't stand you," Helen shot back. Sophia rolled her eyes in contempt. Biting back her anger, Helen forced a calmer tone. "We need to meet. There's a document for you to sign." "What kind of document?" "It'll be clear when you get here." Letting the matter drop, Sophia hung up. As she did, she saw Lucas descending the staircase. He had showered and changed, his hair perfectly styled like a model from the pages of a magazine. She had to admit, he was pleasing to look at. 'With those looks, he certainly has the assets for a career as a gigolo,' Sophia thought wryly. A smug feeling warmed Lucas as her eyes stayed on him. He drew out the chair next to hers and sat down. "Paliston Fashion Week is just around the corner," he offered. "It'll be a good chance for us to get away." In three years of marriage, it was the first time he had ever proposed such a thing. Sophia acknowledged him with a quiet hum, but she felt no spark of happiness or expectation. She saw the offer for what it was—a peace offering, born of the guilt he carried after his betrayal. Her ride showed up shortly after breakfast. Picking up her bag, Sophia walked out the door.
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I've potty trained my autistic son after everyone told me to just wait. His OT said wait. His pediatrician said wait. Even his BCBA said give it time. I waited three years. Nothing changed. And if I'd kept listening to them, nothing ever would have. Then a mom in our group explained something that none of them ever mentioned. This is going to be a long post. But if your kid is still in pull-ups and nothing is working — please read it all the way through. I honestly thought I was failing him. For years. People around me assumed I wasn't trying hard enough. My mother-in-law kept dropping hints about how my niece was already trained at two. My husband was frustrated. Friends with NT kids would say things like "have you tried sticker charts?" and I wanted to scream. Because trust me — I was trying. I was trying everything. He'd pee himself and just keep playing. No reaction. Nothing. Completely unbothered by being wet. I'd change him, clean everything up, and twenty minutes later we'd be doing it all over again. I've lost count of how many times I sat on Reddit at 2am searching "autistic 5 year old not potty trained" looking for someone — anyone — who actually understood what this was like. Because what works for NT kids does not work for kids like ours. It just doesn't. And nobody in my life seemed to get that. There were days I just wanted to give up and let him wear diapers forever. I'd look at him playing and think — maybe this is just how it's going to be. Maybe I need to stop fighting it. I was at my breaking point. And then someone in our group explained what was actually going on. And honestly? Everything I thought I knew about potty training just fell apart. But let me back up first. Because I know you've probably tried most of this too and I want you to know I get it. Pull-ups. He was in them every day for years. I thought I was doing the right thing — keeping him comfortable, giving him time. But here's what nobody told me. Pull-ups are designed to keep skin completely dry. So every single time he peed, the moisture got wicked away instantly. His brain got zero feedback. No sensation. Nothing to learn from. And I was paying over a hundred dollars a month for the one thing keeping him stuck. But I didn't know that yet. Oh Crap. The one everyone says is amazing. We lasted maybe two days. He stood in his own pee and completely panicked. The naked thing sent him into a meltdown spiral that took us a week to recover from. For a kid with sensory sensitivities, standing naked and wet on a cold floor isn't "learning." It's terrifying. I felt awful for putting him through that. Reward charts and candy and stickers. God we tried them all. M&Ms next to the potty for months. And yeah — he'd sit. He'd sit there for twenty minutes watching Bluey on my phone. But nothing happened. Because sitting isn't the problem right? Feeling is the problem. You can't bribe a brain into sensing something it's not receiving. I didn't understand that at the time but now it's so obvious. Timed sits. Every thirty minutes. Like clockwork. For a kid who melts down the second you make a demand? Every timer that went off was a fight. And even when he sat there long enough — nothing came out. He'd get up, walk away, and pee on the floor ten minutes later. The timer was training ME to track his bladder. It wasn't teaching HIM to feel his own. ABA. His BCBA had a whole protocol. Scheduled sits, data sheets, reinforcement. And at the clinic he was doing great. Going on the potty with prompts, getting his tokens. But at home? Nothing transferred. Take away the prompt and he was right back in wet pants. Because ABA was teaching him to follow a command. Not to feel a body signal. There's a huge difference and nobody pointed that out to me. And then the advice everyone loves giving. "He'll do it when he's ready." His OT said it. His pediatrician said it. My mom said it. So I listened. And I waited. Three full years. And absolutely nothing changed. Because the readiness signs they talk about — wanting to copy peers, being uncomfortable when wet, showing interest in the potty — those are NT things. Our kids might never show those signs on their own. Not because they can't learn. But because their brain is processing things differently. Every single method had the same blind spot. And once I figured out what it was, I honestly could not believe nobody had ever told me. Okay so here's the part I really need you to read carefully. There's something called interoception. Most parents have never heard of it. Most pediatricians don't mention it. Even a lot of OTs don't bring it up. But this is the thing that changed everything for us. Interoception is how the brain feels internal body signals. Hunger, thirst, temperature — and a full bladder. For most NT kids, this sense works well enough that they feel the urge, they squirm, they do the potty dance, they run to the bathroom. The signal is loud and clear. For a lot of autistic kids, that signal is turned way down. It's either really quiet, or delayed, or sometimes it just doesn't arrive at all. That's why he never showed those readiness signs. That's why he was unbothered by being wet. That's why he'd pee and keep playing like absolutely nothing happened. His brain literally wasn't getting the message. And here's where it gets really frustrating. There are actually two chances for the brain to learn this. The first is feeling the bladder filling up — that internal signal. For our kids, that's usually too weak. The second is feeling the wetness AFTER peeing. That's like the backup system. That's how the brain eventually starts going "oh wait I'm wet, something happened, maybe I can catch it earlier next time." But pull-ups? They take away that second chance completely. They soak up everything before the brain even knows it happened. So no signal before. No signal after. The brain has literally nothing to work with. When I finally understood this I just sat there and cried. Not because it was complicated. Because it was so simple. And because I'd spent years blaming myself. Blaming him. Trying method after method after method. And it was never either of us. His brain just wasn't getting the signal. Every tool I used assumed he could feel something he couldn't. Sorry I'm getting emotional writing this. But I remember how alone I felt and I don't want anyone else sitting in that place longer than they have to. I actually found a quote from Kelly Mahler — she won an award from the American Occupational Therapy Association for her work on this — and she said something like "rewards can't create or clarify internal body signals." When I read that, every failed sticker chart suddenly made perfect sense. So once I understood the actual problem, I started looking for something that addressed it. Not another behavior chart. Not another timer. Something that actually gave his brain the sensation it needed. A mom in our group mentioned something she'd been using with her son. She said it was the first thing that actually made a difference. I was skeptical honestly — after everything we'd been through I didn't trust anything anymore. But what she described actually matched the problem for once. That had never happened before. They're called BrightKidCo. They're training underwear but completely different from anything else out there — they're actually the first ones I've found that are designed for how our kids' brains work. They have something called the Body-Signal Learning Layer or something like that — but basically they let your kid feel the wetness when they pee. Gently though. Not like standing naked in a puddle. Not harsh and not overwhelming. Just enough that the brain goes oh wait, something just happened. But they catch everything. Like actually catch it. Nothing leaks through to clothes or furniture. They absorb way more than regular underwear so you're not cleaning the house every twenty minutes. And they're actually soft. Like genuinely soft. No tags. No weird seams. No bulk. My son put them on without fighting me and honestly that alone was a win before anything else even happened. Because I learned the hard way — if our kids won't wear it, it doesn't matter what it does. And I know some of you are going to say "we tried training pants and they were useless, he treated them like a diaper" or "they leaked everywhere and I gave up in three days." I know because that was us too. But those were made for NT kids who already have body awareness. They were never built for a brain that can't feel the signal yet. That's why this worked when the others didn't. It's actually designed for how our kids process sensation. Once I understood that difference I felt stupid for not seeing it sooner. But also — how would I have known? Nobody explains this stuff. One mom in our group — Amanda — she said pull-ups kept her son totally dry so nothing ever connected in his brain. With these, he started pausing mid-play and looking down. She said that tiny pause was the biggest breakthrough they'd had in three years. Another mom said her daughter started saying "I'm wet" instead of ignoring it. After years of nothing — those two words meant everything. They tested it with over 600 autistic kids and most showed real awareness within weeks. And honestly when I found out over 10,000 autism parents were already using them I was like — how did I not know about this. It was built by a mom of three kids including an autistic son. At her kitchen table, not in some corporate office. And for some reason that made me trust it more than anything else. I'll never forget week three. He was playing on the floor. Just doing his thing. And he stopped. Looked down at his pants. Looked at me. In three years of accidents — not once had he ever reacted. Not once had his brain registered anything. And in that moment something was finally getting through. It wasn't magic. It wasn't overnight. But that tiny pause meant his brain was learning. And I sat in the kitchen and cried for a completely different reason this time. For anyone in this group who's going through this right now — if you've tried everything and nothing's working — it might not be a behavior thing. It might just be that their brain isn't getting the signal. And the pull-ups might be hiding the one thing that could actually teach them. BrightKidCo gives you 60 days. At your kid's pace. No rush. If you don't see calmer, clearer progress — every penny back. I wish someone had written this post three years ago. Nobody did. So here it is.
I've potty trained my autistic son after everyone told me to just wait. His OT said wait. His pediatrician said wait. Even his BCBA said give it time. I waited three years. Nothing changed. And if I'd kept listening to them, nothing ever would have. Then a mom in our group explained something that none of them ever mentioned. This is going to be a long post. But if your kid is still in pull-ups and nothing is working — please read it all the way through. I honestly thought I was failing him. For years. People around me assumed I wasn't trying hard enough. My mother-in-law kept dropping hints about how my niece was already trained at two. My husband was frustrated. Friends with NT kids would say things like "have you tried sticker charts?" and I wanted to scream. Because trust me — I was trying. I was trying everything. He'd pee himself and just keep playing. No reaction. Nothing. Completely unbothered by being wet. I'd change him, clean everything up, and twenty minutes later we'd be doing it all over again. I've lost count of how many times I sat on Reddit at 2am searching "autistic 5 year old not potty trained" looking for someone — anyone — who actually understood what this was like. Because what works for NT kids does not work for kids like ours. It just doesn't. And nobody in my life seemed to get that. There were days I just wanted to give up and let him wear diapers forever. I'd look at him playing and think — maybe this is just how it's going to be. Maybe I need to stop fighting it. I was at my breaking point. And then someone in our group explained what was actually going on. And honestly? Everything I thought I knew about potty training just fell apart. But let me back up first. Because I know you've probably tried most of this too and I want you to know I get it. Pull-ups. He was in them every day for years. I thought I was doing the right thing — keeping him comfortable, giving him time. But here's what nobody told me. Pull-ups are designed to keep skin completely dry. So every single time he peed, the moisture got wicked away instantly. His brain got zero feedback. No sensation. Nothing to learn from. And I was paying over a hundred dollars a month for the one thing keeping him stuck. But I didn't know that yet. Oh Crap. The one everyone says is amazing. We lasted maybe two days. He stood in his own pee and completely panicked. The naked thing sent him into a meltdown spiral that took us a week to recover from. For a kid with sensory sensitivities, standing naked and wet on a cold floor isn't "learning." It's terrifying. I felt awful for putting him through that. Reward charts and candy and stickers. God we tried them all. M&Ms next to the potty for months. And yeah — he'd sit. He'd sit there for twenty minutes watching Bluey on my phone. But nothing happened. Because sitting isn't the problem right? Feeling is the problem. You can't bribe a brain into sensing something it's not receiving. I didn't understand that at the time but now it's so obvious. Timed sits. Every thirty minutes. Like clockwork. For a kid who melts down the second you make a demand? Every timer that went off was a fight. And even when he sat there long enough — nothing came out. He'd get up, walk away, and pee on the floor ten minutes later. The timer was training ME to track his bladder. It wasn't teaching HIM to feel his own. ABA. His BCBA had a whole protocol. Scheduled sits, data sheets, reinforcement. And at the clinic he was doing great. Going on the potty with prompts, getting his tokens. But at home? Nothing transferred. Take away the prompt and he was right back in wet pants. Because ABA was teaching him to follow a command. Not to feel a body signal. There's a huge difference and nobody pointed that out to me. And then the advice everyone loves giving. "He'll do it when he's ready." His OT said it. His pediatrician said it. My mom said it. So I listened. And I waited. Three full years. And absolutely nothing changed. Because the readiness signs they talk about — wanting to copy peers, being uncomfortable when wet, showing interest in the potty — those are NT things. Our kids might never show those signs on their own. Not because they can't learn. But because their brain is processing things differently. Every single method had the same blind spot. And once I figured out what it was, I honestly could not believe nobody had ever told me. Okay so here's the part I really need you to read carefully. There's something called interoception. Most parents have never heard of it. Most pediatricians don't mention it. Even a lot of OTs don't bring it up. But this is the thing that changed everything for us. Interoception is how the brain feels internal body signals. Hunger, thirst, temperature — and a full bladder. For most NT kids, this sense works well enough that they feel the urge, they squirm, they do the potty dance, they run to the bathroom. The signal is loud and clear. For a lot of autistic kids, that signal is turned way down. It's either really quiet, or delayed, or sometimes it just doesn't arrive at all. That's why he never showed those readiness signs. That's why he was unbothered by being wet. That's why he'd pee and keep playing like absolutely nothing happened. His brain literally wasn't getting the message. And here's where it gets really frustrating. There are actually two chances for the brain to learn this. The first is feeling the bladder filling up — that internal signal. For our kids, that's usually too weak. The second is feeling the wetness AFTER peeing. That's like the backup system. That's how the brain eventually starts going "oh wait I'm wet, something happened, maybe I can catch it earlier next time." But pull-ups? They take away that second chance completely. They soak up everything before the brain even knows it happened. So no signal before. No signal after. The brain has literally nothing to work with. When I finally understood this I just sat there and cried. Not because it was complicated. Because it was so simple. And because I'd spent years blaming myself. Blaming him. Trying method after method after method. And it was never either of us. His brain just wasn't getting the signal. Every tool I used assumed he could feel something he couldn't. Sorry I'm getting emotional writing this. But I remember how alone I felt and I don't want anyone else sitting in that place longer than they have to. I actually found a quote from Kelly Mahler — she won an award from the American Occupational Therapy Association for her work on this — and she said something like "rewards can't create or clarify internal body signals." When I read that, every failed sticker chart suddenly made perfect sense. So once I understood the actual problem, I started looking for something that addressed it. Not another behavior chart. Not another timer. Something that actually gave his brain the sensation it needed. A mom in our group mentioned something she'd been using with her son. She said it was the first thing that actually made a difference. I was skeptical honestly — after everything we'd been through I didn't trust anything anymore. But what she described actually matched the problem for once. That had never happened before. They're called BrightKidCo. They're training underwear but completely different from anything else out there — they're actually the first ones I've found that are designed for how our kids' brains work. They have something called the Body-Signal Learning Layer or something like that — but basically they let your kid feel the wetness when they pee. Gently though. Not like standing naked in a puddle. Not harsh and not overwhelming. Just enough that the brain goes oh wait, something just happened. But they catch everything. Like actually catch it. Nothing leaks through to clothes or furniture. They absorb way more than regular underwear so you're not cleaning the house every twenty minutes. And they're actually soft. Like genuinely soft. No tags. No weird seams. No bulk. My son put them on without fighting me and honestly that alone was a win before anything else even happened. Because I learned the hard way — if our kids won't wear it, it doesn't matter what it does. And I know some of you are going to say "we tried training pants and they were useless, he treated them like a diaper" or "they leaked everywhere and I gave up in three days." I know because that was us too. But those were made for NT kids who already have body awareness. They were never built for a brain that can't feel the signal yet. That's why this worked when the others didn't. It's actually designed for how our kids process sensation. Once I understood that difference I felt stupid for not seeing it sooner. But also — how would I have known? Nobody explains this stuff. One mom in our group — Amanda — she said pull-ups kept her son totally dry so nothing ever connected in his brain. With these, he started pausing mid-play and looking down. She said that tiny pause was the biggest breakthrough they'd had in three years. Another mom said her daughter started saying "I'm wet" instead of ignoring it. After years of nothing — those two words meant everything. They tested it with over 600 autistic kids and most showed real awareness within weeks. And honestly when I found out over 10,000 autism parents were already using them I was like — how did I not know about this. It was built by a mom of three kids including an autistic son. At her kitchen table, not in some corporate office. And for some reason that made me trust it more than anything else. I'll never forget week three. He was playing on the floor. Just doing his thing. And he stopped. Looked down at his pants. Looked at me. In three years of accidents — not once had he ever reacted. Not once had his brain registered anything. And in that moment something was finally getting through. It wasn't magic. It wasn't overnight. But that tiny pause meant his brain was learning. And I sat in the kitchen and cried for a completely different reason this time. For anyone in this group who's going through this right now — if you've tried everything and nothing's working — it might not be a behavior thing. It might just be that their brain isn't getting the signal. And the pull-ups might be hiding the one thing that could actually teach them. BrightKidCo gives you 60 days. At your kid's pace. No rush. If you don't see calmer, clearer progress — every penny back. I wish someone had written this post three years ago. Nobody did. So here it is.
I've potty trained my autistic son after everyone told me to just wait. His OT said wait. His pediatrician said wait. Even his BCBA said give it time. I waited three years. Nothing changed. And if I'd kept listening to them, nothing ever would have. Then a mom in our group explained something that none of them ever mentioned. This is going to be a long post. But if your kid is still in pull-ups and nothing is working — please read it all the way through. I honestly thought I was failing him. For years. People around me assumed I wasn't trying hard enough. My mother-in-law kept dropping hints about how my niece was already trained at two. My husband was frustrated. Friends with NT kids would say things like "have you tried sticker charts?" and I wanted to scream. Because trust me — I was trying. I was trying everything. He'd pee himself and just keep playing. No reaction. Nothing. Completely unbothered by being wet. I'd change him, clean everything up, and twenty minutes later we'd be doing it all over again. I've lost count of how many times I sat on Reddit at 2am searching "autistic 5 year old not potty trained" looking for someone — anyone — who actually understood what this was like. Because what works for NT kids does not work for kids like ours. It just doesn't. And nobody in my life seemed to get that. There were days I just wanted to give up and let him wear diapers forever. I'd look at him playing and think — maybe this is just how it's going to be. Maybe I need to stop fighting it. I was at my breaking point. And then someone in our group explained what was actually going on. And honestly? Everything I thought I knew about potty training just fell apart. But let me back up first. Because I know you've probably tried most of this too and I want you to know I get it. Pull-ups. He was in them every day for years. I thought I was doing the right thing — keeping him comfortable, giving him time. But here's what nobody told me. Pull-ups are designed to keep skin completely dry. So every single time he peed, the moisture got wicked away instantly. His brain got zero feedback. No sensation. Nothing to learn from. And I was paying over a hundred dollars a month for the one thing keeping him stuck. But I didn't know that yet. Oh Crap. The one everyone says is amazing. We lasted maybe two days. He stood in his own pee and completely panicked. The naked thing sent him into a meltdown spiral that took us a week to recover from. For a kid with sensory sensitivities, standing naked and wet on a cold floor isn't "learning." It's terrifying. I felt awful for putting him through that. Reward charts and candy and stickers. God we tried them all. M&Ms next to the potty for months. And yeah — he'd sit. He'd sit there for twenty minutes watching Bluey on my phone. But nothing happened. Because sitting isn't the problem right? Feeling is the problem. You can't bribe a brain into sensing something it's not receiving. I didn't understand that at the time but now it's so obvious. Timed sits. Every thirty minutes. Like clockwork. For a kid who melts down the second you make a demand? Every timer that went off was a fight. And even when he sat there long enough — nothing came out. He'd get up, walk away, and pee on the floor ten minutes later. The timer was training ME to track his bladder. It wasn't teaching HIM to feel his own. ABA. His BCBA had a whole protocol. Scheduled sits, data sheets, reinforcement. And at the clinic he was doing great. Going on the potty with prompts, getting his tokens. But at home? Nothing transferred. Take away the prompt and he was right back in wet pants. Because ABA was teaching him to follow a command. Not to feel a body signal. There's a huge difference and nobody pointed that out to me. And then the advice everyone loves giving. "He'll do it when he's ready." His OT said it. His pediatrician said it. My mom said it. So I listened. And I waited. Three full years. And absolutely nothing changed. Because the readiness signs they talk about — wanting to copy peers, being uncomfortable when wet, showing interest in the potty — those are NT things. Our kids might never show those signs on their own. Not because they can't learn. But because their brain is processing things differently. Every single method had the same blind spot. And once I figured out what it was, I honestly could not believe nobody had ever told me. Okay so here's the part I really need you to read carefully. There's something called interoception. Most parents have never heard of it. Most pediatricians don't mention it. Even a lot of OTs don't bring it up. But this is the thing that changed everything for us. Interoception is how the brain feels internal body signals. Hunger, thirst, temperature — and a full bladder. For most NT kids, this sense works well enough that they feel the urge, they squirm, they do the potty dance, they run to the bathroom. The signal is loud and clear. For a lot of autistic kids, that signal is turned way down. It's either really quiet, or delayed, or sometimes it just doesn't arrive at all. That's why he never showed those readiness signs. That's why he was unbothered by being wet. That's why he'd pee and keep playing like absolutely nothing happened. His brain literally wasn't getting the message. And here's where it gets really frustrating. There are actually two chances for the brain to learn this. The first is feeling the bladder filling up — that internal signal. For our kids, that's usually too weak. The second is feeling the wetness AFTER peeing. That's like the backup system. That's how the brain eventually starts going "oh wait I'm wet, something happened, maybe I can catch it earlier next time." But pull-ups? They take away that second chance completely. They soak up everything before the brain even knows it happened. So no signal before. No signal after. The brain has literally nothing to work with. When I finally understood this I just sat there and cried. Not because it was complicated. Because it was so simple. And because I'd spent years blaming myself. Blaming him. Trying method after method after method. And it was never either of us. His brain just wasn't getting the signal. Every tool I used assumed he could feel something he couldn't. Sorry I'm getting emotional writing this. But I remember how alone I felt and I don't want anyone else sitting in that place longer than they have to. I actually found a quote from Kelly Mahler — she won an award from the American Occupational Therapy Association for her work on this — and she said something like "rewards can't create or clarify internal body signals." When I read that, every failed sticker chart suddenly made perfect sense. So once I understood the actual problem, I started looking for something that addressed it. Not another behavior chart. Not another timer. Something that actually gave his brain the sensation it needed. A mom in our group mentioned something she'd been using with her son. She said it was the first thing that actually made a difference. I was skeptical honestly — after everything we'd been through I didn't trust anything anymore. But what she described actually matched the problem for once. That had never happened before. They're called BrightKidCo. They're training underwear but completely different from anything else out there — they're actually the first ones I've found that are designed for how our kids' brains work. They have something called the Body-Signal Learning Layer or something like that — but basically they let your kid feel the wetness when they pee. Gently though. Not like standing naked in a puddle. Not harsh and not overwhelming. Just enough that the brain goes oh wait, something just happened. But they catch everything. Like actually catch it. Nothing leaks through to clothes or furniture. They absorb way more than regular underwear so you're not cleaning the house every twenty minutes. And they're actually soft. Like genuinely soft. No tags. No weird seams. No bulk. My son put them on without fighting me and honestly that alone was a win before anything else even happened. Because I learned the hard way — if our kids won't wear it, it doesn't matter what it does. And I know some of you are going to say "we tried training pants and they were useless, he treated them like a diaper" or "they leaked everywhere and I gave up in three days." I know because that was us too. But those were made for NT kids who already have body awareness. They were never built for a brain that can't feel the signal yet. That's why this worked when the others didn't. It's actually designed for how our kids process sensation. Once I understood that difference I felt stupid for not seeing it sooner. But also — how would I have known? Nobody explains this stuff. One mom in our group — Amanda — she said pull-ups kept her son totally dry so nothing ever connected in his brain. With these, he started pausing mid-play and looking down. She said that tiny pause was the biggest breakthrough they'd had in three years. Another mom said her daughter started saying "I'm wet" instead of ignoring it. After years of nothing — those two words meant everything. They tested it with over 600 autistic kids and most showed real awareness within weeks. And honestly when I found out over 10,000 autism parents were already using them I was like — how did I not know about this. It was built by a mom of three kids including an autistic son. At her kitchen table, not in some corporate office. And for some reason that made me trust it more than anything else. I'll never forget week three. He was playing on the floor. Just doing his thing. And he stopped. Looked down at his pants. Looked at me. In three years of accidents — not once had he ever reacted. Not once had his brain registered anything. And in that moment something was finally getting through. It wasn't magic. It wasn't overnight. But that tiny pause meant his brain was learning. And I sat in the kitchen and cried for a completely different reason this time. For anyone in this group who's going through this right now — if you've tried everything and nothing's working — it might not be a behavior thing. It might just be that their brain isn't getting the signal. And the pull-ups might be hiding the one thing that could actually teach them. BrightKidCo gives you 60 days. At your kid's pace. No rush. If you don't see calmer, clearer progress — every penny back. I wish someone had written this post three years ago. Nobody did. So here it is.
I never imagined I would be having sax with my stepfather right under my mother’s eyes.It all started on a road trip—because the seats were cramped, I had to sit on his lap.“How’s it feel, Gia? Are you comfortable sitting on my lap?”“Y-Yes…,” I whispered back. “I-It’s very comfortable…”I wiggled my bvtt backward, this time laying my pvssy directly on top of where his bon er was.It felt so good as I imagined what it’d feel like to actually have him fvck my pvssy.“Well, that’s not fair. Because I’m not comfortable at all like this, baby.”“W-What do you mean?”“Can’t ya feel it? Can’t ya tell how uncomfortable I am?” He jerrked his hiips forward, thrusting his raging errection against my bvtt. “M-Maybe you should take it off then,” I whispered. “It’s not a good idea to leave it constricted like that.”“Oh? What do ya know about it?”“J-Just rumors at class. Y-You need to take care of that or… or they turn blue and big or something…”“You’re exactly right, baby girl. I do need to take care of it. And you’re going to help me.” “Gia, get in the car!” My mother bellowed. “We have to leave now!” “Mom, our car is too small! Where the heck am I supposed to sit with all this stuff in the back!” It was our yearly summer road trip to Alan’s family beach house. Like always, my hoarder of a mother liked to over-prepare for things by bringing more than what was needed. In the back of our small sedan were cases and cases of clothes, water, food, snacks, and especially toilet paper. “Hmm, it is true that we have too much stuff,” a stern voice calls from behind. “Maybe Gia’s right. Let’s leave some things at the house and―” “Absolutely not!” Mom shot back. “If we’re going out on an eight-hour ride, I want us to have every commodity possible. What if we get stranded in the woods somewhere with no phone signal or internet?” That was my mother being paranoid again. I turned around to greet the sound of the voice. It was Alan, my mother’s ridiculously hot boyfriend. With his lean, muscular build and bright brown hair, it was hard to believe that this man was nearly twice my age. Mom must have won the lottery in secret to have seduced such an impressive male specimen. I often found myself blushing in public because people often mistook him as my boyfriend, considering how hunky and young the tall man looked. “How about you two just go without me,” I suggested. “I mean, I’m 18- years-old and I’m more than capable of taking care of the house on my own.” “There’s no way you aren’t coming with us, Gia,” Mom answered. “This is your last year before you’re off to college. Who knows if we’ll ever be able to do this again!” I heaved out a long sigh. I’ve lived with her for long enough to know that she won’t change her opinion no matter what I say or do. “If you don’t get rid of the stuff in the back, Gia will barely have enough room to sit,” Alan added. “I don’t want my baby girl uncomfortable for eight straight hours, ya know?” His words are enough to make Mom pause. That's the thing about the right man in the house. When he says something, good girls do it. Mom is no exception. “Here’s an idea then,” Mom said. “How about Gia sits in the back with you? Problem solved.” “Sit in the back with me?” Alan frowned. “Are you kidding? Haven’t you been listening to what I’ve said?” “No, dear, you’re not understanding what I mean. All we have to do is move some things to the passenger seat so that you have enough room to sit. Then Gia can sit on your lap and everything will be nice and settled.” “Hold on, you want her to sit on my lap!? Why can’t she sit on yours!?” “Because I’ll be the one driving.” “The he ll should you drive for? It’s my family’s beach house we’re traveling to.” “And? Alan, whenever you’re on the road, I don’t feel safe. Who knows if you’ll drive like a maniac like last time.” “THAT HAPPENED ONE TIME!” I remembered that day. It was last year during our road trip. Alan was on the wheel in an empty road and thought it would be a fun idea to put his foot down on the gas pedal. The sudden burst of speed was enough to jolt my mother and I awake. It lasted only a few seconds but my mother made sure that he remembered it for the rest of his life. “Fine then,” Alan said, giving in to my mother’s demands. “I’ll sit in the back with ya Gia. But don’t make this any more uncomfortable than it needs to be, ya hear?” “Um, excuse me,” I added. “Shouldn’t I have a say in the matter?” The two of them looked at me as if they had little to no interest in what I had to say. I decided then it would be best to continue on with the trip with no further interruptions. But even though my mother had her way, I found it odd that Alan was so quick to agree with her. Usually, they would banter for far longer than this.Chapter 2 Whatever the case, I took my seat over Alan’s thlghs and closed the car door behind me. Mom started the car and I wiggled my bvm over Alan’s lap. As comfortable as my summer dress was, I still found it difficult to find a good position to sit on. “Gia, you moving too much,” Alan said to me. “Stay still already, will you?” “I’m sorry. It’s just so uncomfortable sitting on your lap.” “That’s odd. You didn’t say so when you were younger. I remembered you used to enjoy sitting on my lap.” “T-That was a long time ago!” I blushed. “I-I’m eighteen now and I deserve to be treated as such!” “Not going to happen,” Alan chuckled. “You’ll always be my baby girl whether you like it or not.” His large arms wrap around my waist to hold me steady. I found my cheeks reddening as the big man held me tightly like a boy did his stuffed animal. Sure, it was embarrassing that I was sitting on his lap like an infant. But thinking about it now, Alan’s warm body didn’t just feel comfortable. It felt right. It was difficult to explain but I somehow felt safe and protected with his hot body over me. For the next hour or so, I sat comfortably while listening to Mom and Alan argue back and forth with one another. It was such a shame. Mom didn’t deserve a man like him. How and why he bothered staying with her was impossible to understand. And the more I thought about it, the more I found myself drifting away into my dreams. Before long, my eyes had shut and I was sleeping in Alan’s large arms. I awake when the car makes an abrupt stop. My drowsy eyes peek around to see that we were parked outside a rundown gas station in the middle of nowhere. Outside was Mom, pumping gas into the vehicle. Beneath me was Alan, probably resting as well. Knowing my mother, she probably wasn’t going to allow him to drive even if she was tired and exhausted. There was a blanket over me and I was grateful for the courtesy. I cuddled up next to Alan, deciding it would be best if I returned to sleep. But when I feel something hard poking against my thlgh, my body freezes up and my eyes go wide. It takes me a while to realize that it was his pe nis, partly because I refused to believe it was true. After all, how could he have such lewd feelings about me? I was his baby girl, his precious little sweetheart. What kind of man could have an errection over a girl like that? I was no longer sleepy. All I could think about was Alan’s achingly hard diick angled neatly against my bvm. Mom returns to the car and starts up the engine. “You alright, Gia?” Mom called out, realizing that I was awake. “We still have some hours to go.” “Y-Yeah, Mom,” I answered. “I-I’m fine.” I’m fine? Was that the truth? The more I thought about his perversions, the giddier I was starting to feel. Giddy? No, I was straight up aroused. The one man in the world who should never have such thoughts about me was actually having them! It was so hot, so wrong, so taboo that I couldn’t help but get horrny. With that in mind, I figured I would enjoy the moment for a little bit longer. He was taking a nap anyway, so where was the harm in a bit of fun? I wiggled my bvtt backward, this time laying my pvssy directly on top of where his bo ner was. It felt so good as I imagined what it’d feel like to actually have him fvck my pvssy. There was a bump on the road, causing me to bounce on his lap. For a split second, I felt the imprint of his diick pressing firmly against my swollen cllit. Immediately, I felt a reaction in my body and I knew then that I wanted even more. What on earth was I thinking? I began rubbing and grinding myself against Alan’s large and powerful body. It was pretty fvcked up that I was pleasuring myself with my mother so close by. But with the windows wide open and given how safe of a driver she was, I knew that her attention would be focused only on the road rather than what was happening in the back. I’m so blinded by my own self-indulgent behavior that I don’t notice the creeping hands wrapping gently around my thlghs until I feel them running up my skirt. When that happens, I feel my heart skip a beat. My body refuses to budge as I realize that Alan was fully aware of what I was doing! It was like a horrible dream. Besides the humming of the road, the car was in total silence. Mom was the only one oblivious to the ongoings of the backseat. Having been caught grinding against his crottch, there was no doubt that he would punish me. Would it be a spanking? Or would he tell my mother? Either way, I was going to be totally humiliated by the time this trip was over. “Don’t stop, baby girl,” said a soft voice in my ear. “Keep going. I like it.”
I never imagined I would be having sax with my stepfather right under my mother’s eyes.It all started on a road trip—because the seats were cramped, I had to sit on his lap.“How’s it feel, Gia? Are you comfortable sitting on my lap?”“Y-Yes…,” I whispered back. “I-It’s very comfortable…”I wiggled my bvtt backward, this time laying my pvssy directly on top of where his bon er was.It felt so good as I imagined what it’d feel like to actually have him fvck my pvssy.“Well, that’s not fair. Because I’m not comfortable at all like this, baby.”“W-What do you mean?”“Can’t ya feel it? Can’t ya tell how uncomfortable I am?” He jerrked his hiips forward, thrusting his raging errection against my bvtt. “M-Maybe you should take it off then,” I whispered. “It’s not a good idea to leave it constricted like that.”“Oh? What do ya know about it?”“J-Just rumors at class. Y-You need to take care of that or… or they turn blue and big or something…”“You’re exactly right, baby girl. I do need to take care of it. And you’re going to help me.” “Gia, get in the car!” My mother bellowed. “We have to leave now!” “Mom, our car is too small! Where the heck am I supposed to sit with all this stuff in the back!” It was our yearly summer road trip to Alan’s family beach house. Like always, my hoarder of a mother liked to over-prepare for things by bringing more than what was needed. In the back of our small sedan were cases and cases of clothes, water, food, snacks, and especially toilet paper. “Hmm, it is true that we have too much stuff,” a stern voice calls from behind. “Maybe Gia’s right. Let’s leave some things at the house and―” “Absolutely not!” Mom shot back. “If we’re going out on an eight-hour ride, I want us to have every commodity possible. What if we get stranded in the woods somewhere with no phone signal or internet?” That was my mother being paranoid again. I turned around to greet the sound of the voice. It was Alan, my mother’s ridiculously hot boyfriend. With his lean, muscular build and bright brown hair, it was hard to believe that this man was nearly twice my age. Mom must have won the lottery in secret to have seduced such an impressive male specimen. I often found myself blushing in public because people often mistook him as my boyfriend, considering how hunky and young the tall man looked. “How about you two just go without me,” I suggested. “I mean, I’m 18- years-old and I’m more than capable of taking care of the house on my own.” “There’s no way you aren’t coming with us, Gia,” Mom answered. “This is your last year before you’re off to college. Who knows if we’ll ever be able to do this again!” I heaved out a long sigh. I’ve lived with her for long enough to know that she won’t change her opinion no matter what I say or do. “If you don’t get rid of the stuff in the back, Gia will barely have enough room to sit,” Alan added. “I don’t want my baby girl uncomfortable for eight straight hours, ya know?” His words are enough to make Mom pause. That's the thing about the right man in the house. When he says something, good girls do it. Mom is no exception. “Here’s an idea then,” Mom said. “How about Gia sits in the back with you? Problem solved.” “Sit in the back with me?” Alan frowned. “Are you kidding? Haven’t you been listening to what I’ve said?” “No, dear, you’re not understanding what I mean. All we have to do is move some things to the passenger seat so that you have enough room to sit. Then Gia can sit on your lap and everything will be nice and settled.” “Hold on, you want her to sit on my lap!? Why can’t she sit on yours!?” “Because I’ll be the one driving.” “The he ll should you drive for? It’s my family’s beach house we’re traveling to.” “And? Alan, whenever you’re on the road, I don’t feel safe. Who knows if you’ll drive like a maniac like last time.” “THAT HAPPENED ONE TIME!” I remembered that day. It was last year during our road trip. Alan was on the wheel in an empty road and thought it would be a fun idea to put his foot down on the gas pedal. The sudden burst of speed was enough to jolt my mother and I awake. It lasted only a few seconds but my mother made sure that he remembered it for the rest of his life. “Fine then,” Alan said, giving in to my mother’s demands. “I’ll sit in the back with ya Gia. But don’t make this any more uncomfortable than it needs to be, ya hear?” “Um, excuse me,” I added. “Shouldn’t I have a say in the matter?” The two of them looked at me as if they had little to no interest in what I had to say. I decided then it would be best to continue on with the trip with no further interruptions. But even though my mother had her way, I found it odd that Alan was so quick to agree with her. Usually, they would banter for far longer than this.Chapter 2 Whatever the case, I took my seat over Alan’s thlghs and closed the car door behind me. Mom started the car and I wiggled my bvm over Alan’s lap. As comfortable as my summer dress was, I still found it difficult to find a good position to sit on. “Gia, you moving too much,” Alan said to me. “Stay still already, will you?” “I’m sorry. It’s just so uncomfortable sitting on your lap.” “That’s odd. You didn’t say so when you were younger. I remembered you used to enjoy sitting on my lap.” “T-That was a long time ago!” I blushed. “I-I’m eighteen now and I deserve to be treated as such!” “Not going to happen,” Alan chuckled. “You’ll always be my baby girl whether you like it or not.” His large arms wrap around my waist to hold me steady. I found my cheeks reddening as the big man held me tightly like a boy did his stuffed animal. Sure, it was embarrassing that I was sitting on his lap like an infant. But thinking about it now, Alan’s warm body didn’t just feel comfortable. It felt right. It was difficult to explain but I somehow felt safe and protected with his hot body over me. For the next hour or so, I sat comfortably while listening to Mom and Alan argue back and forth with one another. It was such a shame. Mom didn’t deserve a man like him. How and why he bothered staying with her was impossible to understand. And the more I thought about it, the more I found myself drifting away into my dreams. Before long, my eyes had shut and I was sleeping in Alan’s large arms. I awake when the car makes an abrupt stop. My drowsy eyes peek around to see that we were parked outside a rundown gas station in the middle of nowhere. Outside was Mom, pumping gas into the vehicle. Beneath me was Alan, probably resting as well. Knowing my mother, she probably wasn’t going to allow him to drive even if she was tired and exhausted. There was a blanket over me and I was grateful for the courtesy. I cuddled up next to Alan, deciding it would be best if I returned to sleep. But when I feel something hard poking against my thlgh, my body freezes up and my eyes go wide. It takes me a while to realize that it was his pe nis, partly because I refused to believe it was true. After all, how could he have such lewd feelings about me? I was his baby girl, his precious little sweetheart. What kind of man could have an errection over a girl like that? I was no longer sleepy. All I could think about was Alan’s achingly hard diick angled neatly against my bvm. Mom returns to the car and starts up the engine. “You alright, Gia?” Mom called out, realizing that I was awake. “We still have some hours to go.” “Y-Yeah, Mom,” I answered. “I-I’m fine.” I’m fine? Was that the truth? The more I thought about his perversions, the giddier I was starting to feel. Giddy? No, I was straight up aroused. The one man in the world who should never have such thoughts about me was actually having them! It was so hot, so wrong, so taboo that I couldn’t help but get horrny. With that in mind, I figured I would enjoy the moment for a little bit longer. He was taking a nap anyway, so where was the harm in a bit of fun? I wiggled my bvtt backward, this time laying my pvssy directly on top of where his bo ner was. It felt so good as I imagined what it’d feel like to actually have him fvck my pvssy. There was a bump on the road, causing me to bounce on his lap. For a split second, I felt the imprint of his diick pressing firmly against my swollen cllit. Immediately, I felt a reaction in my body and I knew then that I wanted even more. What on earth was I thinking? I began rubbing and grinding myself against Alan’s large and powerful body. It was pretty fvcked up that I was pleasuring myself with my mother so close by. But with the windows wide open and given how safe of a driver she was, I knew that her attention would be focused only on the road rather than what was happening in the back. I’m so blinded by my own self-indulgent behavior that I don’t notice the creeping hands wrapping gently around my thlghs until I feel them running up my skirt. When that happens, I feel my heart skip a beat. My body refuses to budge as I realize that Alan was fully aware of what I was doing! It was like a horrible dream. Besides the humming of the road, the car was in total silence. Mom was the only one oblivious to the ongoings of the backseat. Having been caught grinding against his crottch, there was no doubt that he would punish me. Would it be a spanking? Or would he tell my mother? Either way, I was going to be totally humiliated by the time this trip was over. “Don’t stop, baby girl,” said a soft voice in my ear. “Keep going. I like it.”
I never imagined I would be having sax with my stepfather right under my mother’s eyes.It all started on a road trip—because the seats were cramped, I had to sit on his lap.“How’s it feel, Gia? Are you comfortable sitting on my lap?”“Y-Yes…,” I whispered back. “I-It’s very comfortable…”I wiggled my bvtt backward, this time laying my pvssy directly on top of where his bon er was.It felt so good as I imagined what it’d feel like to actually have him fvck my pvssy.“Well, that’s not fair. Because I’m not comfortable at all like this, baby.”“W-What do you mean?”“Can’t ya feel it? Can’t ya tell how uncomfortable I am?” He jerrked his hiips forward, thrusting his raging errection against my bvtt. “M-Maybe you should take it off then,” I whispered. “It’s not a good idea to leave it constricted like that.”“Oh? What do ya know about it?”“J-Just rumors at class. Y-You need to take care of that or… or they turn blue and big or something…”“You’re exactly right, baby girl. I do need to take care of it. And you’re going to help me.” “Gia, get in the car!” My mother bellowed. “We have to leave now!” “Mom, our car is too small! Where the heck am I supposed to sit with all this stuff in the back!” It was our yearly summer road trip to Alan’s family beach house. Like always, my hoarder of a mother liked to over-prepare for things by bringing more than what was needed. In the back of our small sedan were cases and cases of clothes, water, food, snacks, and especially toilet paper. “Hmm, it is true that we have too much stuff,” a stern voice calls from behind. “Maybe Gia’s right. Let’s leave some things at the house and―” “Absolutely not!” Mom shot back. “If we’re going out on an eight-hour ride, I want us to have every commodity possible. What if we get stranded in the woods somewhere with no phone signal or internet?” That was my mother being paranoid again. I turned around to greet the sound of the voice. It was Alan, my mother’s ridiculously hot boyfriend. With his lean, muscular build and bright brown hair, it was hard to believe that this man was nearly twice my age. Mom must have won the lottery in secret to have seduced such an impressive male specimen. I often found myself blushing in public because people often mistook him as my boyfriend, considering how hunky and young the tall man looked. “How about you two just go without me,” I suggested. “I mean, I’m 18- years-old and I’m more than capable of taking care of the house on my own.” “There’s no way you aren’t coming with us, Gia,” Mom answered. “This is your last year before you’re off to college. Who knows if we’ll ever be able to do this again!” I heaved out a long sigh. I’ve lived with her for long enough to know that she won’t change her opinion no matter what I say or do. “If you don’t get rid of the stuff in the back, Gia will barely have enough room to sit,” Alan added. “I don’t want my baby girl uncomfortable for eight straight hours, ya know?” His words are enough to make Mom pause. That's the thing about the right man in the house. When he says something, good girls do it. Mom is no exception. “Here’s an idea then,” Mom said. “How about Gia sits in the back with you? Problem solved.” “Sit in the back with me?” Alan frowned. “Are you kidding? Haven’t you been listening to what I’ve said?” “No, dear, you’re not understanding what I mean. All we have to do is move some things to the passenger seat so that you have enough room to sit. Then Gia can sit on your lap and everything will be nice and settled.” “Hold on, you want her to sit on my lap!? Why can’t she sit on yours!?” “Because I’ll be the one driving.” “The he ll should you drive for? It’s my family’s beach house we’re traveling to.” “And? Alan, whenever you’re on the road, I don’t feel safe. Who knows if you’ll drive like a maniac like last time.” “THAT HAPPENED ONE TIME!” I remembered that day. It was last year during our road trip. Alan was on the wheel in an empty road and thought it would be a fun idea to put his foot down on the gas pedal. The sudden burst of speed was enough to jolt my mother and I awake. It lasted only a few seconds but my mother made sure that he remembered it for the rest of his life. “Fine then,” Alan said, giving in to my mother’s demands. “I’ll sit in the back with ya Gia. But don’t make this any more uncomfortable than it needs to be, ya hear?” “Um, excuse me,” I added. “Shouldn’t I have a say in the matter?” The two of them looked at me as if they had little to no interest in what I had to say. I decided then it would be best to continue on with the trip with no further interruptions. But even though my mother had her way, I found it odd that Alan was so quick to agree with her. Usually, they would banter for far longer than this.Chapter 2 Whatever the case, I took my seat over Alan’s thlghs and closed the car door behind me. Mom started the car and I wiggled my bvm over Alan’s lap. As comfortable as my summer dress was, I still found it difficult to find a good position to sit on. “Gia, you moving too much,” Alan said to me. “Stay still already, will you?” “I’m sorry. It’s just so uncomfortable sitting on your lap.” “That’s odd. You didn’t say so when you were younger. I remembered you used to enjoy sitting on my lap.” “T-That was a long time ago!” I blushed. “I-I’m eighteen now and I deserve to be treated as such!” “Not going to happen,” Alan chuckled. “You’ll always be my baby girl whether you like it or not.” His large arms wrap around my waist to hold me steady. I found my cheeks reddening as the big man held me tightly like a boy did his stuffed animal. Sure, it was embarrassing that I was sitting on his lap like an infant. But thinking about it now, Alan’s warm body didn’t just feel comfortable. It felt right. It was difficult to explain but I somehow felt safe and protected with his hot body over me. For the next hour or so, I sat comfortably while listening to Mom and Alan argue back and forth with one another. It was such a shame. Mom didn’t deserve a man like him. How and why he bothered staying with her was impossible to understand. And the more I thought about it, the more I found myself drifting away into my dreams. Before long, my eyes had shut and I was sleeping in Alan’s large arms. I awake when the car makes an abrupt stop. My drowsy eyes peek around to see that we were parked outside a rundown gas station in the middle of nowhere. Outside was Mom, pumping gas into the vehicle. Beneath me was Alan, probably resting as well. Knowing my mother, she probably wasn’t going to allow him to drive even if she was tired and exhausted. There was a blanket over me and I was grateful for the courtesy. I cuddled up next to Alan, deciding it would be best if I returned to sleep. But when I feel something hard poking against my thlgh, my body freezes up and my eyes go wide. It takes me a while to realize that it was his pe nis, partly because I refused to believe it was true. After all, how could he have such lewd feelings about me? I was his baby girl, his precious little sweetheart. What kind of man could have an errection over a girl like that? I was no longer sleepy. All I could think about was Alan’s achingly hard diick angled neatly against my bvm. Mom returns to the car and starts up the engine. “You alright, Gia?” Mom called out, realizing that I was awake. “We still have some hours to go.” “Y-Yeah, Mom,” I answered. “I-I’m fine.” I’m fine? Was that the truth? The more I thought about his perversions, the giddier I was starting to feel. Giddy? No, I was straight up aroused. The one man in the world who should never have such thoughts about me was actually having them! It was so hot, so wrong, so taboo that I couldn’t help but get horrny. With that in mind, I figured I would enjoy the moment for a little bit longer. He was taking a nap anyway, so where was the harm in a bit of fun? I wiggled my bvtt backward, this time laying my pvssy directly on top of where his bo ner was. It felt so good as I imagined what it’d feel like to actually have him fvck my pvssy. There was a bump on the road, causing me to bounce on his lap. For a split second, I felt the imprint of his diick pressing firmly against my swollen cllit. Immediately, I felt a reaction in my body and I knew then that I wanted even more. What on earth was I thinking? I began rubbing and grinding myself against Alan’s large and powerful body. It was pretty fvcked up that I was pleasuring myself with my mother so close by. But with the windows wide open and given how safe of a driver she was, I knew that her attention would be focused only on the road rather than what was happening in the back. I’m so blinded by my own self-indulgent behavior that I don’t notice the creeping hands wrapping gently around my thlghs until I feel them running up my skirt. When that happens, I feel my heart skip a beat. My body refuses to budge as I realize that Alan was fully aware of what I was doing! It was like a horrible dream. Besides the humming of the road, the car was in total silence. Mom was the only one oblivious to the ongoings of the backseat. Having been caught grinding against his crottch, there was no doubt that he would punish me. Would it be a spanking? Or would he tell my mother? Either way, I was going to be totally humiliated by the time this trip was over. “Don’t stop, baby girl,” said a soft voice in my ear. “Keep going. I like it.”
I never imagined I would be having sax with my stepfather right under my mother’s eyes.It all started on a road trip—because the seats were cramped, I had to sit on his lap.“How’s it feel, Gia? Are you comfortable sitting on my lap?”“Y-Yes…,” I whispered back. “I-It’s very comfortable…”I wiggled my bvtt backward, this time laying my pvssy directly on top of where his bon er was.It felt so good as I imagined what it’d feel like to actually have him fvck my pvssy.“Well, that’s not fair. Because I’m not comfortable at all like this, baby.”“W-What do you mean?”“Can’t ya feel it? Can’t ya tell how uncomfortable I am?” He jerrked his hiips forward, thrusting his raging errection against my bvtt. “M-Maybe you should take it off then,” I whispered. “It’s not a good idea to leave it constricted like that.”“Oh? What do ya know about it?”“J-Just rumors at class. Y-You need to take care of that or… or they turn blue and big or something…”“You’re exactly right, baby girl. I do need to take care of it. And you’re going to help me.” “Gia, get in the car!” My mother bellowed. “We have to leave now!” “Mom, our car is too small! Where the heck am I supposed to sit with all this stuff in the back!” It was our yearly summer road trip to Alan’s family beach house. Like always, my hoarder of a mother liked to over-prepare for things by bringing more than what was needed. In the back of our small sedan were cases and cases of clothes, water, food, snacks, and especially toilet paper. “Hmm, it is true that we have too much stuff,” a stern voice calls from behind. “Maybe Gia’s right. Let’s leave some things at the house and―” “Absolutely not!” Mom shot back. “If we’re going out on an eight-hour ride, I want us to have every commodity possible. What if we get stranded in the woods somewhere with no phone signal or internet?” That was my mother being paranoid again. I turned around to greet the sound of the voice. It was Alan, my mother’s ridiculously hot boyfriend. With his lean, muscular build and bright brown hair, it was hard to believe that this man was nearly twice my age. Mom must have won the lottery in secret to have seduced such an impressive male specimen. I often found myself blushing in public because people often mistook him as my boyfriend, considering how hunky and young the tall man looked. “How about you two just go without me,” I suggested. “I mean, I’m 18- years-old and I’m more than capable of taking care of the house on my own.” “There’s no way you aren’t coming with us, Gia,” Mom answered. “This is your last year before you’re off to college. Who knows if we’ll ever be able to do this again!” I heaved out a long sigh. I’ve lived with her for long enough to know that she won’t change her opinion no matter what I say or do. “If you don’t get rid of the stuff in the back, Gia will barely have enough room to sit,” Alan added. “I don’t want my baby girl uncomfortable for eight straight hours, ya know?” His words are enough to make Mom pause. That's the thing about the right man in the house. When he says something, good girls do it. Mom is no exception. “Here’s an idea then,” Mom said. “How about Gia sits in the back with you? Problem solved.” “Sit in the back with me?” Alan frowned. “Are you kidding? Haven’t you been listening to what I’ve said?” “No, dear, you’re not understanding what I mean. All we have to do is move some things to the passenger seat so that you have enough room to sit. Then Gia can sit on your lap and everything will be nice and settled.” “Hold on, you want her to sit on my lap!? Why can’t she sit on yours!?” “Because I’ll be the one driving.” “The he ll should you drive for? It’s my family’s beach house we’re traveling to.” “And? Alan, whenever you’re on the road, I don’t feel safe. Who knows if you’ll drive like a maniac like last time.” “THAT HAPPENED ONE TIME!” I remembered that day. It was last year during our road trip. Alan was on the wheel in an empty road and thought it would be a fun idea to put his foot down on the gas pedal. The sudden burst of speed was enough to jolt my mother and I awake. It lasted only a few seconds but my mother made sure that he remembered it for the rest of his life. “Fine then,” Alan said, giving in to my mother’s demands. “I’ll sit in the back with ya Gia. But don’t make this any more uncomfortable than it needs to be, ya hear?” “Um, excuse me,” I added. “Shouldn’t I have a say in the matter?” The two of them looked at me as if they had little to no interest in what I had to say. I decided then it would be best to continue on with the trip with no further interruptions. But even though my mother had her way, I found it odd that Alan was so quick to agree with her. Usually, they would banter for far longer than this.Chapter 2 Whatever the case, I took my seat over Alan’s thlghs and closed the car door behind me. Mom started the car and I wiggled my bvm over Alan’s lap. As comfortable as my summer dress was, I still found it difficult to find a good position to sit on. “Gia, you moving too much,” Alan said to me. “Stay still already, will you?” “I’m sorry. It’s just so uncomfortable sitting on your lap.” “That’s odd. You didn’t say so when you were younger. I remembered you used to enjoy sitting on my lap.” “T-That was a long time ago!” I blushed. “I-I’m eighteen now and I deserve to be treated as such!” “Not going to happen,” Alan chuckled. “You’ll always be my baby girl whether you like it or not.” His large arms wrap around my waist to hold me steady. I found my cheeks reddening as the big man held me tightly like a boy did his stuffed animal. Sure, it was embarrassing that I was sitting on his lap like an infant. But thinking about it now, Alan’s warm body didn’t just feel comfortable. It felt right. It was difficult to explain but I somehow felt safe and protected with his hot body over me. For the next hour or so, I sat comfortably while listening to Mom and Alan argue back and forth with one another. It was such a shame. Mom didn’t deserve a man like him. How and why he bothered staying with her was impossible to understand. And the more I thought about it, the more I found myself drifting away into my dreams. Before long, my eyes had shut and I was sleeping in Alan’s large arms. I awake when the car makes an abrupt stop. My drowsy eyes peek around to see that we were parked outside a rundown gas station in the middle of nowhere. Outside was Mom, pumping gas into the vehicle. Beneath me was Alan, probably resting as well. Knowing my mother, she probably wasn’t going to allow him to drive even if she was tired and exhausted. There was a blanket over me and I was grateful for the courtesy. I cuddled up next to Alan, deciding it would be best if I returned to sleep. But when I feel something hard poking against my thlgh, my body freezes up and my eyes go wide. It takes me a while to realize that it was his pe nis, partly because I refused to believe it was true. After all, how could he have such lewd feelings about me? I was his baby girl, his precious little sweetheart. What kind of man could have an errection over a girl like that? I was no longer sleepy. All I could think about was Alan’s achingly hard diick angled neatly against my bvm. Mom returns to the car and starts up the engine. “You alright, Gia?” Mom called out, realizing that I was awake. “We still have some hours to go.” “Y-Yeah, Mom,” I answered. “I-I’m fine.” I’m fine? Was that the truth? The more I thought about his perversions, the giddier I was starting to feel. Giddy? No, I was straight up aroused. The one man in the world who should never have such thoughts about me was actually having them! It was so hot, so wrong, so taboo that I couldn’t help but get horrny. With that in mind, I figured I would enjoy the moment for a little bit longer. He was taking a nap anyway, so where was the harm in a bit of fun? I wiggled my bvtt backward, this time laying my pvssy directly on top of where his bo ner was. It felt so good as I imagined what it’d feel like to actually have him fvck my pvssy. There was a bump on the road, causing me to bounce on his lap. For a split second, I felt the imprint of his diick pressing firmly against my swollen cllit. Immediately, I felt a reaction in my body and I knew then that I wanted even more. What on earth was I thinking? I began rubbing and grinding myself against Alan’s large and powerful body. It was pretty fvcked up that I was pleasuring myself with my mother so close by. But with the windows wide open and given how safe of a driver she was, I knew that her attention would be focused only on the road rather than what was happening in the back. I’m so blinded by my own self-indulgent behavior that I don’t notice the creeping hands wrapping gently around my thlghs until I feel them running up my skirt. When that happens, I feel my heart skip a beat. My body refuses to budge as I realize that Alan was fully aware of what I was doing! It was like a horrible dream. Besides the humming of the road, the car was in total silence. Mom was the only one oblivious to the ongoings of the backseat. Having been caught grinding against his crottch, there was no doubt that he would punish me. Would it be a spanking? Or would he tell my mother? Either way, I was going to be totally humiliated by the time this trip was over. “Don’t stop, baby girl,” said a soft voice in my ear. “Keep going. I like it.”
I never imagined I would be having sax with my stepfather right under my mother’s eyes.It all started on a road trip—because the seats were cramped, I had to sit on his lap.“How’s it feel, Gia? Are you comfortable sitting on my lap?”“Y-Yes…,” I whispered back. “I-It’s very comfortable…”I wiggled my bvtt backward, this time laying my pvssy directly on top of where his bon er was.It felt so good as I imagined what it’d feel like to actually have him fvck my pvssy.“Well, that’s not fair. Because I’m not comfortable at all like this, baby.”“W-What do you mean?”“Can’t ya feel it? Can’t ya tell how uncomfortable I am?” He jerrked his hiips forward, thrusting his raging errection against my bvtt. “M-Maybe you should take it off then,” I whispered. “It’s not a good idea to leave it constricted like that.”“Oh? What do ya know about it?”“J-Just rumors at class. Y-You need to take care of that or… or they turn blue and big or something…”“You’re exactly right, baby girl. I do need to take care of it. And you’re going to help me.” “Gia, get in the car!” My mother bellowed. “We have to leave now!” “Mom, our car is too small! Where the heck am I supposed to sit with all this stuff in the back!” It was our yearly summer road trip to Alan’s family beach house. Like always, my hoarder of a mother liked to over-prepare for things by bringing more than what was needed. In the back of our small sedan were cases and cases of clothes, water, food, snacks, and especially toilet paper. “Hmm, it is true that we have too much stuff,” a stern voice calls from behind. “Maybe Gia’s right. Let’s leave some things at the house and―” “Absolutely not!” Mom shot back. “If we’re going out on an eight-hour ride, I want us to have every commodity possible. What if we get stranded in the woods somewhere with no phone signal or internet?” That was my mother being paranoid again. I turned around to greet the sound of the voice. It was Alan, my mother’s ridiculously hot boyfriend. With his lean, muscular build and bright brown hair, it was hard to believe that this man was nearly twice my age. Mom must have won the lottery in secret to have seduced such an impressive male specimen. I often found myself blushing in public because people often mistook him as my boyfriend, considering how hunky and young the tall man looked. “How about you two just go without me,” I suggested. “I mean, I’m 18- years-old and I’m more than capable of taking care of the house on my own.” “There’s no way you aren’t coming with us, Gia,” Mom answered. “This is your last year before you’re off to college. Who knows if we’ll ever be able to do this again!” I heaved out a long sigh. I’ve lived with her for long enough to know that she won’t change her opinion no matter what I say or do. “If you don’t get rid of the stuff in the back, Gia will barely have enough room to sit,” Alan added. “I don’t want my baby girl uncomfortable for eight straight hours, ya know?” His words are enough to make Mom pause. That's the thing about the right man in the house. When he says something, good girls do it. Mom is no exception. “Here’s an idea then,” Mom said. “How about Gia sits in the back with you? Problem solved.” “Sit in the back with me?” Alan frowned. “Are you kidding? Haven’t you been listening to what I’ve said?” “No, dear, you’re not understanding what I mean. All we have to do is move some things to the passenger seat so that you have enough room to sit. Then Gia can sit on your lap and everything will be nice and settled.” “Hold on, you want her to sit on my lap!? Why can’t she sit on yours!?” “Because I’ll be the one driving.” “The he ll should you drive for? It’s my family’s beach house we’re traveling to.” “And? Alan, whenever you’re on the road, I don’t feel safe. Who knows if you’ll drive like a maniac like last time.” “THAT HAPPENED ONE TIME!” I remembered that day. It was last year during our road trip. Alan was on the wheel in an empty road and thought it would be a fun idea to put his foot down on the gas pedal. The sudden burst of speed was enough to jolt my mother and I awake. It lasted only a few seconds but my mother made sure that he remembered it for the rest of his life. “Fine then,” Alan said, giving in to my mother’s demands. “I’ll sit in the back with ya Gia. But don’t make this any more uncomfortable than it needs to be, ya hear?” “Um, excuse me,” I added. “Shouldn’t I have a say in the matter?” The two of them looked at me as if they had little to no interest in what I had to say. I decided then it would be best to continue on with the trip with no further interruptions. But even though my mother had her way, I found it odd that Alan was so quick to agree with her. Usually, they would banter for far longer than this.Chapter 2 Whatever the case, I took my seat over Alan’s thlghs and closed the car door behind me. Mom started the car and I wiggled my bvm over Alan’s lap. As comfortable as my summer dress was, I still found it difficult to find a good position to sit on. “Gia, you moving too much,” Alan said to me. “Stay still already, will you?” “I’m sorry. It’s just so uncomfortable sitting on your lap.” “That’s odd. You didn’t say so when you were younger. I remembered you used to enjoy sitting on my lap.” “T-That was a long time ago!” I blushed. “I-I’m eighteen now and I deserve to be treated as such!” “Not going to happen,” Alan chuckled. “You’ll always be my baby girl whether you like it or not.” His large arms wrap around my waist to hold me steady. I found my cheeks reddening as the big man held me tightly like a boy did his stuffed animal. Sure, it was embarrassing that I was sitting on his lap like an infant. But thinking about it now, Alan’s warm body didn’t just feel comfortable. It felt right. It was difficult to explain but I somehow felt safe and protected with his hot body over me. For the next hour or so, I sat comfortably while listening to Mom and Alan argue back and forth with one another. It was such a shame. Mom didn’t deserve a man like him. How and why he bothered staying with her was impossible to understand. And the more I thought about it, the more I found myself drifting away into my dreams. Before long, my eyes had shut and I was sleeping in Alan’s large arms. I awake when the car makes an abrupt stop. My drowsy eyes peek around to see that we were parked outside a rundown gas station in the middle of nowhere. Outside was Mom, pumping gas into the vehicle. Beneath me was Alan, probably resting as well. Knowing my mother, she probably wasn’t going to allow him to drive even if she was tired and exhausted. There was a blanket over me and I was grateful for the courtesy. I cuddled up next to Alan, deciding it would be best if I returned to sleep. But when I feel something hard poking against my thlgh, my body freezes up and my eyes go wide. It takes me a while to realize that it was his pe nis, partly because I refused to believe it was true. After all, how could he have such lewd feelings about me? I was his baby girl, his precious little sweetheart. What kind of man could have an errection over a girl like that? I was no longer sleepy. All I could think about was Alan’s achingly hard diick angled neatly against my bvm. Mom returns to the car and starts up the engine. “You alright, Gia?” Mom called out, realizing that I was awake. “We still have some hours to go.” “Y-Yeah, Mom,” I answered. “I-I’m fine.” I’m fine? Was that the truth? The more I thought about his perversions, the giddier I was starting to feel. Giddy? No, I was straight up aroused. The one man in the world who should never have such thoughts about me was actually having them! It was so hot, so wrong, so taboo that I couldn’t help but get horrny. With that in mind, I figured I would enjoy the moment for a little bit longer. He was taking a nap anyway, so where was the harm in a bit of fun? I wiggled my bvtt backward, this time laying my pvssy directly on top of where his bo ner was. It felt so good as I imagined what it’d feel like to actually have him fvck my pvssy. There was a bump on the road, causing me to bounce on his lap. For a split second, I felt the imprint of his diick pressing firmly against my swollen cllit. Immediately, I felt a reaction in my body and I knew then that I wanted even more. What on earth was I thinking? I began rubbing and grinding myself against Alan’s large and powerful body. It was pretty fvcked up that I was pleasuring myself with my mother so close by. But with the windows wide open and given how safe of a driver she was, I knew that her attention would be focused only on the road rather than what was happening in the back. I’m so blinded by my own self-indulgent behavior that I don’t notice the creeping hands wrapping gently around my thlghs until I feel them running up my skirt. When that happens, I feel my heart skip a beat. My body refuses to budge as I realize that Alan was fully aware of what I was doing! It was like a horrible dream. Besides the humming of the road, the car was in total silence. Mom was the only one oblivious to the ongoings of the backseat. Having been caught grinding against his crottch, there was no doubt that he would punish me. Would it be a spanking? Or would he tell my mother? Either way, I was going to be totally humiliated by the time this trip was over. “Don’t stop, baby girl,” said a soft voice in my ear. “Keep going. I like it.”
I never imagined I would be having sax with my stepfather right under my mother’s eyes.It all started on a road trip—because the seats were cramped, I had to sit on his lap.“How’s it feel, Gia? Are you comfortable sitting on my lap?”“Y-Yes…,” I whispered back. “I-It’s very comfortable…”I wiggled my bvtt backward, this time laying my pvssy directly on top of where his bon er was.It felt so good as I imagined what it’d feel like to actually have him fvck my pvssy.“Well, that’s not fair. Because I’m not comfortable at all like this, baby.”“W-What do you mean?”“Can’t ya feel it? Can’t ya tell how uncomfortable I am?” He jerrked his hiips forward, thrusting his raging errection against my bvtt. “M-Maybe you should take it off then,” I whispered. “It’s not a good idea to leave it constricted like that.”“Oh? What do ya know about it?”“J-Just rumors at class. Y-You need to take care of that or… or they turn blue and big or something…”“You’re exactly right, baby girl. I do need to take care of it. And you’re going to help me.” “Gia, get in the car!” My mother bellowed. “We have to leave now!” “Mom, our car is too small! Where the heck am I supposed to sit with all this stuff in the back!” It was our yearly summer road trip to Alan’s family beach house. Like always, my hoarder of a mother liked to over-prepare for things by bringing more than what was needed. In the back of our small sedan were cases and cases of clothes, water, food, snacks, and especially toilet paper. “Hmm, it is true that we have too much stuff,” a stern voice calls from behind. “Maybe Gia’s right. Let’s leave some things at the house and―” “Absolutely not!” Mom shot back. “If we’re going out on an eight-hour ride, I want us to have every commodity possible. What if we get stranded in the woods somewhere with no phone signal or internet?” That was my mother being paranoid again. I turned around to greet the sound of the voice. It was Alan, my mother’s ridiculously hot boyfriend. With his lean, muscular build and bright brown hair, it was hard to believe that this man was nearly twice my age. Mom must have won the lottery in secret to have seduced such an impressive male specimen. I often found myself blushing in public because people often mistook him as my boyfriend, considering how hunky and young the tall man looked. “How about you two just go without me,” I suggested. “I mean, I’m 18- years-old and I’m more than capable of taking care of the house on my own.” “There’s no way you aren’t coming with us, Gia,” Mom answered. “This is your last year before you’re off to college. Who knows if we’ll ever be able to do this again!” I heaved out a long sigh. I’ve lived with her for long enough to know that she won’t change her opinion no matter what I say or do. “If you don’t get rid of the stuff in the back, Gia will barely have enough room to sit,” Alan added. “I don’t want my baby girl uncomfortable for eight straight hours, ya know?” His words are enough to make Mom pause. That's the thing about the right man in the house. When he says something, good girls do it. Mom is no exception. “Here’s an idea then,” Mom said. “How about Gia sits in the back with you? Problem solved.” “Sit in the back with me?” Alan frowned. “Are you kidding? Haven’t you been listening to what I’ve said?” “No, dear, you’re not understanding what I mean. All we have to do is move some things to the passenger seat so that you have enough room to sit. Then Gia can sit on your lap and everything will be nice and settled.” “Hold on, you want her to sit on my lap!? Why can’t she sit on yours!?” “Because I’ll be the one driving.” “The he ll should you drive for? It’s my family’s beach house we’re traveling to.” “And? Alan, whenever you’re on the road, I don’t feel safe. Who knows if you’ll drive like a maniac like last time.” “THAT HAPPENED ONE TIME!” I remembered that day. It was last year during our road trip. Alan was on the wheel in an empty road and thought it would be a fun idea to put his foot down on the gas pedal. The sudden burst of speed was enough to jolt my mother and I awake. It lasted only a few seconds but my mother made sure that he remembered it for the rest of his life. “Fine then,” Alan said, giving in to my mother’s demands. “I’ll sit in the back with ya Gia. But don’t make this any more uncomfortable than it needs to be, ya hear?” “Um, excuse me,” I added. “Shouldn’t I have a say in the matter?” The two of them looked at me as if they had little to no interest in what I had to say. I decided then it would be best to continue on with the trip with no further interruptions. But even though my mother had her way, I found it odd that Alan was so quick to agree with her. Usually, they would banter for far longer than this.Chapter 2 Whatever the case, I took my seat over Alan’s thlghs and closed the car door behind me. Mom started the car and I wiggled my bvm over Alan’s lap. As comfortable as my summer dress was, I still found it difficult to find a good position to sit on. “Gia, you moving too much,” Alan said to me. “Stay still already, will you?” “I’m sorry. It’s just so uncomfortable sitting on your lap.” “That’s odd. You didn’t say so when you were younger. I remembered you used to enjoy sitting on my lap.” “T-That was a long time ago!” I blushed. “I-I’m eighteen now and I deserve to be treated as such!” “Not going to happen,” Alan chuckled. “You’ll always be my baby girl whether you like it or not.” His large arms wrap around my waist to hold me steady. I found my cheeks reddening as the big man held me tightly like a boy did his stuffed animal. Sure, it was embarrassing that I was sitting on his lap like an infant. But thinking about it now, Alan’s warm body didn’t just feel comfortable. It felt right. It was difficult to explain but I somehow felt safe and protected with his hot body over me. For the next hour or so, I sat comfortably while listening to Mom and Alan argue back and forth with one another. It was such a shame. Mom didn’t deserve a man like him. How and why he bothered staying with her was impossible to understand. And the more I thought about it, the more I found myself drifting away into my dreams. Before long, my eyes had shut and I was sleeping in Alan’s large arms. I awake when the car makes an abrupt stop. My drowsy eyes peek around to see that we were parked outside a rundown gas station in the middle of nowhere. Outside was Mom, pumping gas into the vehicle. Beneath me was Alan, probably resting as well. Knowing my mother, she probably wasn’t going to allow him to drive even if she was tired and exhausted. There was a blanket over me and I was grateful for the courtesy. I cuddled up next to Alan, deciding it would be best if I returned to sleep. But when I feel something hard poking against my thlgh, my body freezes up and my eyes go wide. It takes me a while to realize that it was his pe nis, partly because I refused to believe it was true. After all, how could he have such lewd feelings about me? I was his baby girl, his precious little sweetheart. What kind of man could have an errection over a girl like that? I was no longer sleepy. All I could think about was Alan’s achingly hard diick angled neatly against my bvm. Mom returns to the car and starts up the engine. “You alright, Gia?” Mom called out, realizing that I was awake. “We still have some hours to go.” “Y-Yeah, Mom,” I answered. “I-I’m fine.” I’m fine? Was that the truth? The more I thought about his perversions, the giddier I was starting to feel. Giddy? No, I was straight up aroused. The one man in the world who should never have such thoughts about me was actually having them! It was so hot, so wrong, so taboo that I couldn’t help but get horrny. With that in mind, I figured I would enjoy the moment for a little bit longer. He was taking a nap anyway, so where was the harm in a bit of fun? I wiggled my bvtt backward, this time laying my pvssy directly on top of where his bo ner was. It felt so good as I imagined what it’d feel like to actually have him fvck my pvssy. There was a bump on the road, causing me to bounce on his lap. For a split second, I felt the imprint of his diick pressing firmly against my swollen cllit. Immediately, I felt a reaction in my body and I knew then that I wanted even more. What on earth was I thinking? I began rubbing and grinding myself against Alan’s large and powerful body. It was pretty fvcked up that I was pleasuring myself with my mother so close by. But with the windows wide open and given how safe of a driver she was, I knew that her attention would be focused only on the road rather than what was happening in the back. I’m so blinded by my own self-indulgent behavior that I don’t notice the creeping hands wrapping gently around my thlghs until I feel them running up my skirt. When that happens, I feel my heart skip a beat. My body refuses to budge as I realize that Alan was fully aware of what I was doing! It was like a horrible dream. Besides the humming of the road, the car was in total silence. Mom was the only one oblivious to the ongoings of the backseat. Having been caught grinding against his crottch, there was no doubt that he would punish me. Would it be a spanking? Or would he tell my mother? Either way, I was going to be totally humiliated by the time this trip was over. “Don’t stop, baby girl,” said a soft voice in my ear. “Keep going. I like it.”
I never imagined I would be having sax with my stepfather right under my mother’s eyes.It all started on a road trip—because the seats were cramped, I had to sit on his lap.“How’s it feel, Gia? Are you comfortable sitting on my lap?”“Y-Yes…,” I whispered back. “I-It’s very comfortable…”I wiggled my bvtt backward, this time laying my pvssy directly on top of where his bon er was.It felt so good as I imagined what it’d feel like to actually have him fvck my pvssy.“Well, that’s not fair. Because I’m not comfortable at all like this, baby.”“W-What do you mean?”“Can’t ya feel it? Can’t ya tell how uncomfortable I am?” He jerrked his hiips forward, thrusting his raging errection against my bvtt. “M-Maybe you should take it off then,” I whispered. “It’s not a good idea to leave it constricted like that.”“Oh? What do ya know about it?”“J-Just rumors at class. Y-You need to take care of that or… or they turn blue and big or something…”“You’re exactly right, baby girl. I do need to take care of it. And you’re going to help me.” “Gia, get in the car!” My mother bellowed. “We have to leave now!” “Mom, our car is too small! Where the heck am I supposed to sit with all this stuff in the back!” It was our yearly summer road trip to Alan’s family beach house. Like always, my hoarder of a mother liked to over-prepare for things by bringing more than what was needed. In the back of our small sedan were cases and cases of clothes, water, food, snacks, and especially toilet paper. “Hmm, it is true that we have too much stuff,” a stern voice calls from behind. “Maybe Gia’s right. Let’s leave some things at the house and―” “Absolutely not!” Mom shot back. “If we’re going out on an eight-hour ride, I want us to have every commodity possible. What if we get stranded in the woods somewhere with no phone signal or internet?” That was my mother being paranoid again. I turned around to greet the sound of the voice. It was Alan, my mother’s ridiculously hot boyfriend. With his lean, muscular build and bright brown hair, it was hard to believe that this man was nearly twice my age. Mom must have won the lottery in secret to have seduced such an impressive male specimen. I often found myself blushing in public because people often mistook him as my boyfriend, considering how hunky and young the tall man looked. “How about you two just go without me,” I suggested. “I mean, I’m 18- years-old and I’m more than capable of taking care of the house on my own.” “There’s no way you aren’t coming with us, Gia,” Mom answered. “This is your last year before you’re off to college. Who knows if we’ll ever be able to do this again!” I heaved out a long sigh. I’ve lived with her for long enough to know that she won’t change her opinion no matter what I say or do. “If you don’t get rid of the stuff in the back, Gia will barely have enough room to sit,” Alan added. “I don’t want my baby girl uncomfortable for eight straight hours, ya know?” His words are enough to make Mom pause. That's the thing about the right man in the house. When he says something, good girls do it. Mom is no exception. “Here’s an idea then,” Mom said. “How about Gia sits in the back with you? Problem solved.” “Sit in the back with me?” Alan frowned. “Are you kidding? Haven’t you been listening to what I’ve said?” “No, dear, you’re not understanding what I mean. All we have to do is move some things to the passenger seat so that you have enough room to sit. Then Gia can sit on your lap and everything will be nice and settled.” “Hold on, you want her to sit on my lap!? Why can’t she sit on yours!?” “Because I’ll be the one driving.” “The he ll should you drive for? It’s my family’s beach house we’re traveling to.” “And? Alan, whenever you’re on the road, I don’t feel safe. Who knows if you’ll drive like a maniac like last time.” “THAT HAPPENED ONE TIME!” I remembered that day. It was last year during our road trip. Alan was on the wheel in an empty road and thought it would be a fun idea to put his foot down on the gas pedal. The sudden burst of speed was enough to jolt my mother and I awake. It lasted only a few seconds but my mother made sure that he remembered it for the rest of his life. “Fine then,” Alan said, giving in to my mother’s demands. “I’ll sit in the back with ya Gia. But don’t make this any more uncomfortable than it needs to be, ya hear?” “Um, excuse me,” I added. “Shouldn’t I have a say in the matter?” The two of them looked at me as if they had little to no interest in what I had to say. I decided then it would be best to continue on with the trip with no further interruptions. But even though my mother had her way, I found it odd that Alan was so quick to agree with her. Usually, they would banter for far longer than this.Chapter 2 Whatever the case, I took my seat over Alan’s thlghs and closed the car door behind me. Mom started the car and I wiggled my bvm over Alan’s lap. As comfortable as my summer dress was, I still found it difficult to find a good position to sit on. “Gia, you moving too much,” Alan said to me. “Stay still already, will you?” “I’m sorry. It’s just so uncomfortable sitting on your lap.” “That’s odd. You didn’t say so when you were younger. I remembered you used to enjoy sitting on my lap.” “T-That was a long time ago!” I blushed. “I-I’m eighteen now and I deserve to be treated as such!” “Not going to happen,” Alan chuckled. “You’ll always be my baby girl whether you like it or not.” His large arms wrap around my waist to hold me steady. I found my cheeks reddening as the big man held me tightly like a boy did his stuffed animal. Sure, it was embarrassing that I was sitting on his lap like an infant. But thinking about it now, Alan’s warm body didn’t just feel comfortable. It felt right. It was difficult to explain but I somehow felt safe and protected with his hot body over me. For the next hour or so, I sat comfortably while listening to Mom and Alan argue back and forth with one another. It was such a shame. Mom didn’t deserve a man like him. How and why he bothered staying with her was impossible to understand. And the more I thought about it, the more I found myself drifting away into my dreams. Before long, my eyes had shut and I was sleeping in Alan’s large arms. I awake when the car makes an abrupt stop. My drowsy eyes peek around to see that we were parked outside a rundown gas station in the middle of nowhere. Outside was Mom, pumping gas into the vehicle. Beneath me was Alan, probably resting as well. Knowing my mother, she probably wasn’t going to allow him to drive even if she was tired and exhausted. There was a blanket over me and I was grateful for the courtesy. I cuddled up next to Alan, deciding it would be best if I returned to sleep. But when I feel something hard poking against my thlgh, my body freezes up and my eyes go wide. It takes me a while to realize that it was his pe nis, partly because I refused to believe it was true. After all, how could he have such lewd feelings about me? I was his baby girl, his precious little sweetheart. What kind of man could have an errection over a girl like that? I was no longer sleepy. All I could think about was Alan’s achingly hard diick angled neatly against my bvm. Mom returns to the car and starts up the engine. “You alright, Gia?” Mom called out, realizing that I was awake. “We still have some hours to go.” “Y-Yeah, Mom,” I answered. “I-I’m fine.” I’m fine? Was that the truth? The more I thought about his perversions, the giddier I was starting to feel. Giddy? No, I was straight up aroused. The one man in the world who should never have such thoughts about me was actually having them! It was so hot, so wrong, so taboo that I couldn’t help but get horrny. With that in mind, I figured I would enjoy the moment for a little bit longer. He was taking a nap anyway, so where was the harm in a bit of fun? I wiggled my bvtt backward, this time laying my pvssy directly on top of where his bo ner was. It felt so good as I imagined what it’d feel like to actually have him fvck my pvssy. There was a bump on the road, causing me to bounce on his lap. For a split second, I felt the imprint of his diick pressing firmly against my swollen cllit. Immediately, I felt a reaction in my body and I knew then that I wanted even more. What on earth was I thinking? I began rubbing and grinding myself against Alan’s large and powerful body. It was pretty fvcked up that I was pleasuring myself with my mother so close by. But with the windows wide open and given how safe of a driver she was, I knew that her attention would be focused only on the road rather than what was happening in the back. I’m so blinded by my own self-indulgent behavior that I don’t notice the creeping hands wrapping gently around my thlghs until I feel them running up my skirt. When that happens, I feel my heart skip a beat. My body refuses to budge as I realize that Alan was fully aware of what I was doing! It was like a horrible dream. Besides the humming of the road, the car was in total silence. Mom was the only one oblivious to the ongoings of the backseat. Having been caught grinding against his crottch, there was no doubt that he would punish me. Would it be a spanking? Or would he tell my mother? Either way, I was going to be totally humiliated by the time this trip was over. “Don’t stop, baby girl,” said a soft voice in my ear. “Keep going. I like it.”
I never imagined I would be having sax with my stepfather right under my mother’s eyes.It all started on a road trip—because the seats were cramped, I had to sit on his lap.“How’s it feel, Gia? Are you comfortable sitting on my lap?”“Y-Yes…,” I whispered back. “I-It’s very comfortable…”I wiggled my bvtt backward, this time laying my pvssy directly on top of where his bon er was.It felt so good as I imagined what it’d feel like to actually have him fvck my pvssy.“Well, that’s not fair. Because I’m not comfortable at all like this, baby.”“W-What do you mean?”“Can’t ya feel it? Can’t ya tell how uncomfortable I am?” He jerrked his hiips forward, thrusting his raging errection against my bvtt. “M-Maybe you should take it off then,” I whispered. “It’s not a good idea to leave it constricted like that.”“Oh? What do ya know about it?”“J-Just rumors at class. Y-You need to take care of that or… or they turn blue and big or something…”“You’re exactly right, baby girl. I do need to take care of it. And you’re going to help me.” “Gia, get in the car!” My mother bellowed. “We have to leave now!” “Mom, our car is too small! Where the heck am I supposed to sit with all this stuff in the back!” It was our yearly summer road trip to Alan’s family beach house. Like always, my hoarder of a mother liked to over-prepare for things by bringing more than what was needed. In the back of our small sedan were cases and cases of clothes, water, food, snacks, and especially toilet paper. “Hmm, it is true that we have too much stuff,” a stern voice calls from behind. “Maybe Gia’s right. Let’s leave some things at the house and―” “Absolutely not!” Mom shot back. “If we’re going out on an eight-hour ride, I want us to have every commodity possible. What if we get stranded in the woods somewhere with no phone signal or internet?” That was my mother being paranoid again. I turned around to greet the sound of the voice. It was Alan, my mother’s ridiculously hot boyfriend. With his lean, muscular build and bright brown hair, it was hard to believe that this man was nearly twice my age. Mom must have won the lottery in secret to have seduced such an impressive male specimen. I often found myself blushing in public because people often mistook him as my boyfriend, considering how hunky and young the tall man looked. “How about you two just go without me,” I suggested. “I mean, I’m 18- years-old and I’m more than capable of taking care of the house on my own.” “There’s no way you aren’t coming with us, Gia,” Mom answered. “This is your last year before you’re off to college. Who knows if we’ll ever be able to do this again!” I heaved out a long sigh. I’ve lived with her for long enough to know that she won’t change her opinion no matter what I say or do. “If you don’t get rid of the stuff in the back, Gia will barely have enough room to sit,” Alan added. “I don’t want my baby girl uncomfortable for eight straight hours, ya know?” His words are enough to make Mom pause. That's the thing about the right man in the house. When he says something, good girls do it. Mom is no exception. “Here’s an idea then,” Mom said. “How about Gia sits in the back with you? Problem solved.” “Sit in the back with me?” Alan frowned. “Are you kidding? Haven’t you been listening to what I’ve said?” “No, dear, you’re not understanding what I mean. All we have to do is move some things to the passenger seat so that you have enough room to sit. Then Gia can sit on your lap and everything will be nice and settled.” “Hold on, you want her to sit on my lap!? Why can’t she sit on yours!?” “Because I’ll be the one driving.” “The he ll should you drive for? It’s my family’s beach house we’re traveling to.” “And? Alan, whenever you’re on the road, I don’t feel safe. Who knows if you’ll drive like a maniac like last time.” “THAT HAPPENED ONE TIME!” I remembered that day. It was last year during our road trip. Alan was on the wheel in an empty road and thought it would be a fun idea to put his foot down on the gas pedal. The sudden burst of speed was enough to jolt my mother and I awake. It lasted only a few seconds but my mother made sure that he remembered it for the rest of his life. “Fine then,” Alan said, giving in to my mother’s demands. “I’ll sit in the back with ya Gia. But don’t make this any more uncomfortable than it needs to be, ya hear?” “Um, excuse me,” I added. “Shouldn’t I have a say in the matter?” The two of them looked at me as if they had little to no interest in what I had to say. I decided then it would be best to continue on with the trip with no further interruptions. But even though my mother had her way, I found it odd that Alan was so quick to agree with her. Usually, they would banter for far longer than this.Chapter 2 Whatever the case, I took my seat over Alan’s thlghs and closed the car door behind me. Mom started the car and I wiggled my bvm over Alan’s lap. As comfortable as my summer dress was, I still found it difficult to find a good position to sit on. “Gia, you moving too much,” Alan said to me. “Stay still already, will you?” “I’m sorry. It’s just so uncomfortable sitting on your lap.” “That’s odd. You didn’t say so when you were younger. I remembered you used to enjoy sitting on my lap.” “T-That was a long time ago!” I blushed. “I-I’m eighteen now and I deserve to be treated as such!” “Not going to happen,” Alan chuckled. “You’ll always be my baby girl whether you like it or not.” His large arms wrap around my waist to hold me steady. I found my cheeks reddening as the big man held me tightly like a boy did his stuffed animal. Sure, it was embarrassing that I was sitting on his lap like an infant. But thinking about it now, Alan’s warm body didn’t just feel comfortable. It felt right. It was difficult to explain but I somehow felt safe and protected with his hot body over me. For the next hour or so, I sat comfortably while listening to Mom and Alan argue back and forth with one another. It was such a shame. Mom didn’t deserve a man like him. How and why he bothered staying with her was impossible to understand. And the more I thought about it, the more I found myself drifting away into my dreams. Before long, my eyes had shut and I was sleeping in Alan’s large arms. I awake when the car makes an abrupt stop. My drowsy eyes peek around to see that we were parked outside a rundown gas station in the middle of nowhere. Outside was Mom, pumping gas into the vehicle. Beneath me was Alan, probably resting as well. Knowing my mother, she probably wasn’t going to allow him to drive even if she was tired and exhausted. There was a blanket over me and I was grateful for the courtesy. I cuddled up next to Alan, deciding it would be best if I returned to sleep. But when I feel something hard poking against my thlgh, my body freezes up and my eyes go wide. It takes me a while to realize that it was his pe nis, partly because I refused to believe it was true. After all, how could he have such lewd feelings about me? I was his baby girl, his precious little sweetheart. What kind of man could have an errection over a girl like that? I was no longer sleepy. All I could think about was Alan’s achingly hard diick angled neatly against my bvm. Mom returns to the car and starts up the engine. “You alright, Gia?” Mom called out, realizing that I was awake. “We still have some hours to go.” “Y-Yeah, Mom,” I answered. “I-I’m fine.” I’m fine? Was that the truth? The more I thought about his perversions, the giddier I was starting to feel. Giddy? No, I was straight up aroused. The one man in the world who should never have such thoughts about me was actually having them! It was so hot, so wrong, so taboo that I couldn’t help but get horrny. With that in mind, I figured I would enjoy the moment for a little bit longer. He was taking a nap anyway, so where was the harm in a bit of fun? I wiggled my bvtt backward, this time laying my pvssy directly on top of where his bo ner was. It felt so good as I imagined what it’d feel like to actually have him fvck my pvssy. There was a bump on the road, causing me to bounce on his lap. For a split second, I felt the imprint of his diick pressing firmly against my swollen cllit. Immediately, I felt a reaction in my body and I knew then that I wanted even more. What on earth was I thinking? I began rubbing and grinding myself against Alan’s large and powerful body. It was pretty fvcked up that I was pleasuring myself with my mother so close by. But with the windows wide open and given how safe of a driver she was, I knew that her attention would be focused only on the road rather than what was happening in the back. I’m so blinded by my own self-indulgent behavior that I don’t notice the creeping hands wrapping gently around my thlghs until I feel them running up my skirt. When that happens, I feel my heart skip a beat. My body refuses to budge as I realize that Alan was fully aware of what I was doing! It was like a horrible dream. Besides the humming of the road, the car was in total silence. Mom was the only one oblivious to the ongoings of the backseat. Having been caught grinding against his crottch, there was no doubt that he would punish me. Would it be a spanking? Or would he tell my mother? Either way, I was going to be totally humiliated by the time this trip was over. “Don’t stop, baby girl,” said a soft voice in my ear. “Keep going. I like it.”
I never imagined I would be having sax with my stepfather right under my mother’s eyes.It all started on a road trip—because the seats were cramped, I had to sit on his lap.“How’s it feel, Gia? Are you comfortable sitting on my lap?”“Y-Yes…,” I whispered back. “I-It’s very comfortable…”I wiggled my bvtt backward, this time laying my pvssy directly on top of where his bon er was.It felt so good as I imagined what it’d feel like to actually have him fvck my pvssy.“Well, that’s not fair. Because I’m not comfortable at all like this, baby.”“W-What do you mean?”“Can’t ya feel it? Can’t ya tell how uncomfortable I am?” He jerrked his hiips forward, thrusting his raging errection against my bvtt. “M-Maybe you should take it off then,” I whispered. “It’s not a good idea to leave it constricted like that.”“Oh? What do ya know about it?”“J-Just rumors at class. Y-You need to take care of that or… or they turn blue and big or something…”“You’re exactly right, baby girl. I do need to take care of it. And you’re going to help me.” “Gia, get in the car!” My mother bellowed. “We have to leave now!” “Mom, our car is too small! Where the heck am I supposed to sit with all this stuff in the back!” It was our yearly summer road trip to Alan’s family beach house. Like always, my hoarder of a mother liked to over-prepare for things by bringing more than what was needed. In the back of our small sedan were cases and cases of clothes, water, food, snacks, and especially toilet paper. “Hmm, it is true that we have too much stuff,” a stern voice calls from behind. “Maybe Gia’s right. Let’s leave some things at the house and―” “Absolutely not!” Mom shot back. “If we’re going out on an eight-hour ride, I want us to have every commodity possible. What if we get stranded in the woods somewhere with no phone signal or internet?” That was my mother being paranoid again. I turned around to greet the sound of the voice. It was Alan, my mother’s ridiculously hot boyfriend. With his lean, muscular build and bright brown hair, it was hard to believe that this man was nearly twice my age. Mom must have won the lottery in secret to have seduced such an impressive male specimen. I often found myself blushing in public because people often mistook him as my boyfriend, considering how hunky and young the tall man looked. “How about you two just go without me,” I suggested. “I mean, I’m 18- years-old and I’m more than capable of taking care of the house on my own.” “There’s no way you aren’t coming with us, Gia,” Mom answered. “This is your last year before you’re off to college. Who knows if we’ll ever be able to do this again!” I heaved out a long sigh. I’ve lived with her for long enough to know that she won’t change her opinion no matter what I say or do. “If you don’t get rid of the stuff in the back, Gia will barely have enough room to sit,” Alan added. “I don’t want my baby girl uncomfortable for eight straight hours, ya know?” His words are enough to make Mom pause. That's the thing about the right man in the house. When he says something, good girls do it. Mom is no exception. “Here’s an idea then,” Mom said. “How about Gia sits in the back with you? Problem solved.” “Sit in the back with me?” Alan frowned. “Are you kidding? Haven’t you been listening to what I’ve said?” “No, dear, you’re not understanding what I mean. All we have to do is move some things to the passenger seat so that you have enough room to sit. Then Gia can sit on your lap and everything will be nice and settled.” “Hold on, you want her to sit on my lap!? Why can’t she sit on yours!?” “Because I’ll be the one driving.” “The he ll should you drive for? It’s my family’s beach house we’re traveling to.” “And? Alan, whenever you’re on the road, I don’t feel safe. Who knows if you’ll drive like a maniac like last time.” “THAT HAPPENED ONE TIME!” I remembered that day. It was last year during our road trip. Alan was on the wheel in an empty road and thought it would be a fun idea to put his foot down on the gas pedal. The sudden burst of speed was enough to jolt my mother and I awake. It lasted only a few seconds but my mother made sure that he remembered it for the rest of his life. “Fine then,” Alan said, giving in to my mother’s demands. “I’ll sit in the back with ya Gia. But don’t make this any more uncomfortable than it needs to be, ya hear?” “Um, excuse me,” I added. “Shouldn’t I have a say in the matter?” The two of them looked at me as if they had little to no interest in what I had to say. I decided then it would be best to continue on with the trip with no further interruptions. But even though my mother had her way, I found it odd that Alan was so quick to agree with her. Usually, they would banter for far longer than this.Chapter 2 Whatever the case, I took my seat over Alan’s thlghs and closed the car door behind me. Mom started the car and I wiggled my bvm over Alan’s lap. As comfortable as my summer dress was, I still found it difficult to find a good position to sit on. “Gia, you moving too much,” Alan said to me. “Stay still already, will you?” “I’m sorry. It’s just so uncomfortable sitting on your lap.” “That’s odd. You didn’t say so when you were younger. I remembered you used to enjoy sitting on my lap.” “T-That was a long time ago!” I blushed. “I-I’m eighteen now and I deserve to be treated as such!” “Not going to happen,” Alan chuckled. “You’ll always be my baby girl whether you like it or not.” His large arms wrap around my waist to hold me steady. I found my cheeks reddening as the big man held me tightly like a boy did his stuffed animal. Sure, it was embarrassing that I was sitting on his lap like an infant. But thinking about it now, Alan’s warm body didn’t just feel comfortable. It felt right. It was difficult to explain but I somehow felt safe and protected with his hot body over me. For the next hour or so, I sat comfortably while listening to Mom and Alan argue back and forth with one another. It was such a shame. Mom didn’t deserve a man like him. How and why he bothered staying with her was impossible to understand. And the more I thought about it, the more I found myself drifting away into my dreams. Before long, my eyes had shut and I was sleeping in Alan’s large arms. I awake when the car makes an abrupt stop. My drowsy eyes peek around to see that we were parked outside a rundown gas station in the middle of nowhere. Outside was Mom, pumping gas into the vehicle. Beneath me was Alan, probably resting as well. Knowing my mother, she probably wasn’t going to allow him to drive even if she was tired and exhausted. There was a blanket over me and I was grateful for the courtesy. I cuddled up next to Alan, deciding it would be best if I returned to sleep. But when I feel something hard poking against my thlgh, my body freezes up and my eyes go wide. It takes me a while to realize that it was his pe nis, partly because I refused to believe it was true. After all, how could he have such lewd feelings about me? I was his baby girl, his precious little sweetheart. What kind of man could have an errection over a girl like that? I was no longer sleepy. All I could think about was Alan’s achingly hard diick angled neatly against my bvm. Mom returns to the car and starts up the engine. “You alright, Gia?” Mom called out, realizing that I was awake. “We still have some hours to go.” “Y-Yeah, Mom,” I answered. “I-I’m fine.” I’m fine? Was that the truth? The more I thought about his perversions, the giddier I was starting to feel. Giddy? No, I was straight up aroused. The one man in the world who should never have such thoughts about me was actually having them! It was so hot, so wrong, so taboo that I couldn’t help but get horrny. With that in mind, I figured I would enjoy the moment for a little bit longer. He was taking a nap anyway, so where was the harm in a bit of fun? I wiggled my bvtt backward, this time laying my pvssy directly on top of where his bo ner was. It felt so good as I imagined what it’d feel like to actually have him fvck my pvssy. There was a bump on the road, causing me to bounce on his lap. For a split second, I felt the imprint of his diick pressing firmly against my swollen cllit. Immediately, I felt a reaction in my body and I knew then that I wanted even more. What on earth was I thinking? I began rubbing and grinding myself against Alan’s large and powerful body. It was pretty fvcked up that I was pleasuring myself with my mother so close by. But with the windows wide open and given how safe of a driver she was, I knew that her attention would be focused only on the road rather than what was happening in the back. I’m so blinded by my own self-indulgent behavior that I don’t notice the creeping hands wrapping gently around my thlghs until I feel them running up my skirt. When that happens, I feel my heart skip a beat. My body refuses to budge as I realize that Alan was fully aware of what I was doing! It was like a horrible dream. Besides the humming of the road, the car was in total silence. Mom was the only one oblivious to the ongoings of the backseat. Having been caught grinding against his crottch, there was no doubt that he would punish me. Would it be a spanking? Or would he tell my mother? Either way, I was going to be totally humiliated by the time this trip was over. “Don’t stop, baby girl,” said a soft voice in my ear. “Keep going. I like it.”
I never imagined I would be having sax with my stepfather right under my mother’s eyes.It all started on a road trip—because the seats were cramped, I had to sit on his lap.“How’s it feel, Gia? Are you comfortable sitting on my lap?”“Y-Yes…,” I whispered back. “I-It’s very comfortable…”I wiggled my bvtt backward, this time laying my pvssy directly on top of where his bon er was.It felt so good as I imagined what it’d feel like to actually have him fvck my pvssy.“Well, that’s not fair. Because I’m not comfortable at all like this, baby.”“W-What do you mean?”“Can’t ya feel it? Can’t ya tell how uncomfortable I am?” He jerrked his hiips forward, thrusting his raging errection against my bvtt. “M-Maybe you should take it off then,” I whispered. “It’s not a good idea to leave it constricted like that.”“Oh? What do ya know about it?”“J-Just rumors at class. Y-You need to take care of that or… or they turn blue and big or something…”“You’re exactly right, baby girl. I do need to take care of it. And you’re going to help me.” “Gia, get in the car!” My mother bellowed. “We have to leave now!” “Mom, our car is too small! Where the heck am I supposed to sit with all this stuff in the back!” It was our yearly summer road trip to Alan’s family beach house. Like always, my hoarder of a mother liked to over-prepare for things by bringing more than what was needed. In the back of our small sedan were cases and cases of clothes, water, food, snacks, and especially toilet paper. “Hmm, it is true that we have too much stuff,” a stern voice calls from behind. “Maybe Gia’s right. Let’s leave some things at the house and―” “Absolutely not!” Mom shot back. “If we’re going out on an eight-hour ride, I want us to have every commodity possible. What if we get stranded in the woods somewhere with no phone signal or internet?” That was my mother being paranoid again. I turned around to greet the sound of the voice. It was Alan, my mother’s ridiculously hot boyfriend. With his lean, muscular build and bright brown hair, it was hard to believe that this man was nearly twice my age. Mom must have won the lottery in secret to have seduced such an impressive male specimen. I often found myself blushing in public because people often mistook him as my boyfriend, considering how hunky and young the tall man looked. “How about you two just go without me,” I suggested. “I mean, I’m 18- years-old and I’m more than capable of taking care of the house on my own.” “There’s no way you aren’t coming with us, Gia,” Mom answered. “This is your last year before you’re off to college. Who knows if we’ll ever be able to do this again!” I heaved out a long sigh. I’ve lived with her for long enough to know that she won’t change her opinion no matter what I say or do. “If you don’t get rid of the stuff in the back, Gia will barely have enough room to sit,” Alan added. “I don’t want my baby girl uncomfortable for eight straight hours, ya know?” His words are enough to make Mom pause. That's the thing about the right man in the house. When he says something, good girls do it. Mom is no exception. “Here’s an idea then,” Mom said. “How about Gia sits in the back with you? Problem solved.” “Sit in the back with me?” Alan frowned. “Are you kidding? Haven’t you been listening to what I’ve said?” “No, dear, you’re not understanding what I mean. All we have to do is move some things to the passenger seat so that you have enough room to sit. Then Gia can sit on your lap and everything will be nice and settled.” “Hold on, you want her to sit on my lap!? Why can’t she sit on yours!?” “Because I’ll be the one driving.” “The he ll should you drive for? It’s my family’s beach house we’re traveling to.” “And? Alan, whenever you’re on the road, I don’t feel safe. Who knows if you’ll drive like a maniac like last time.” “THAT HAPPENED ONE TIME!” I remembered that day. It was last year during our road trip. Alan was on the wheel in an empty road and thought it would be a fun idea to put his foot down on the gas pedal. The sudden burst of speed was enough to jolt my mother and I awake. It lasted only a few seconds but my mother made sure that he remembered it for the rest of his life. “Fine then,” Alan said, giving in to my mother’s demands. “I’ll sit in the back with ya Gia. But don’t make this any more uncomfortable than it needs to be, ya hear?” “Um, excuse me,” I added. “Shouldn’t I have a say in the matter?” The two of them looked at me as if they had little to no interest in what I had to say. I decided then it would be best to continue on with the trip with no further interruptions. But even though my mother had her way, I found it odd that Alan was so quick to agree with her. Usually, they would banter for far longer than this.Chapter 2 Whatever the case, I took my seat over Alan’s thlghs and closed the car door behind me. Mom started the car and I wiggled my bvm over Alan’s lap. As comfortable as my summer dress was, I still found it difficult to find a good position to sit on. “Gia, you moving too much,” Alan said to me. “Stay still already, will you?” “I’m sorry. It’s just so uncomfortable sitting on your lap.” “That’s odd. You didn’t say so when you were younger. I remembered you used to enjoy sitting on my lap.” “T-That was a long time ago!” I blushed. “I-I’m eighteen now and I deserve to be treated as such!” “Not going to happen,” Alan chuckled. “You’ll always be my baby girl whether you like it or not.” His large arms wrap around my waist to hold me steady. I found my cheeks reddening as the big man held me tightly like a boy did his stuffed animal. Sure, it was embarrassing that I was sitting on his lap like an infant. But thinking about it now, Alan’s warm body didn’t just feel comfortable. It felt right. It was difficult to explain but I somehow felt safe and protected with his hot body over me. For the next hour or so, I sat comfortably while listening to Mom and Alan argue back and forth with one another. It was such a shame. Mom didn’t deserve a man like him. How and why he bothered staying with her was impossible to understand. And the more I thought about it, the more I found myself drifting away into my dreams. Before long, my eyes had shut and I was sleeping in Alan’s large arms. I awake when the car makes an abrupt stop. My drowsy eyes peek around to see that we were parked outside a rundown gas station in the middle of nowhere. Outside was Mom, pumping gas into the vehicle. Beneath me was Alan, probably resting as well. Knowing my mother, she probably wasn’t going to allow him to drive even if she was tired and exhausted. There was a blanket over me and I was grateful for the courtesy. I cuddled up next to Alan, deciding it would be best if I returned to sleep. But when I feel something hard poking against my thlgh, my body freezes up and my eyes go wide. It takes me a while to realize that it was his pe nis, partly because I refused to believe it was true. After all, how could he have such lewd feelings about me? I was his baby girl, his precious little sweetheart. What kind of man could have an errection over a girl like that? I was no longer sleepy. All I could think about was Alan’s achingly hard diick angled neatly against my bvm. Mom returns to the car and starts up the engine. “You alright, Gia?” Mom called out, realizing that I was awake. “We still have some hours to go.” “Y-Yeah, Mom,” I answered. “I-I’m fine.” I’m fine? Was that the truth? The more I thought about his perversions, the giddier I was starting to feel. Giddy? No, I was straight up aroused. The one man in the world who should never have such thoughts about me was actually having them! It was so hot, so wrong, so taboo that I couldn’t help but get horrny. With that in mind, I figured I would enjoy the moment for a little bit longer. He was taking a nap anyway, so where was the harm in a bit of fun? I wiggled my bvtt backward, this time laying my pvssy directly on top of where his bo ner was. It felt so good as I imagined what it’d feel like to actually have him fvck my pvssy. There was a bump on the road, causing me to bounce on his lap. For a split second, I felt the imprint of his diick pressing firmly against my swollen cllit. Immediately, I felt a reaction in my body and I knew then that I wanted even more. What on earth was I thinking? I began rubbing and grinding myself against Alan’s large and powerful body. It was pretty fvcked up that I was pleasuring myself with my mother so close by. But with the windows wide open and given how safe of a driver she was, I knew that her attention would be focused only on the road rather than what was happening in the back. I’m so blinded by my own self-indulgent behavior that I don’t notice the creeping hands wrapping gently around my thlghs until I feel them running up my skirt. When that happens, I feel my heart skip a beat. My body refuses to budge as I realize that Alan was fully aware of what I was doing! It was like a horrible dream. Besides the humming of the road, the car was in total silence. Mom was the only one oblivious to the ongoings of the backseat. Having been caught grinding against his crottch, there was no doubt that he would punish me. Would it be a spanking? Or would he tell my mother? Either way, I was going to be totally humiliated by the time this trip was over. “Don’t stop, baby girl,” said a soft voice in my ear. “Keep going. I like it.”
I never imagined I would be having sax with my stepfather right under my mother’s eyes.It all started on a road trip—because the seats were cramped, I had to sit on his lap.“How’s it feel, Gia? Are you comfortable sitting on my lap?”“Y-Yes…,” I whispered back. “I-It’s very comfortable…”I wiggled my bvtt backward, this time laying my pvssy directly on top of where his bon er was.It felt so good as I imagined what it’d feel like to actually have him fvck my pvssy.“Well, that’s not fair. Because I’m not comfortable at all like this, baby.”“W-What do you mean?”“Can’t ya feel it? Can’t ya tell how uncomfortable I am?” He jerrked his hiips forward, thrusting his raging errection against my bvtt. “M-Maybe you should take it off then,” I whispered. “It’s not a good idea to leave it constricted like that.”“Oh? What do ya know about it?”“J-Just rumors at class. Y-You need to take care of that or… or they turn blue and big or something…”“You’re exactly right, baby girl. I do need to take care of it. And you’re going to help me.” “Gia, get in the car!” My mother bellowed. “We have to leave now!” “Mom, our car is too small! Where the heck am I supposed to sit with all this stuff in the back!” It was our yearly summer road trip to Alan’s family beach house. Like always, my hoarder of a mother liked to over-prepare for things by bringing more than what was needed. In the back of our small sedan were cases and cases of clothes, water, food, snacks, and especially toilet paper. “Hmm, it is true that we have too much stuff,” a stern voice calls from behind. “Maybe Gia’s right. Let’s leave some things at the house and―” “Absolutely not!” Mom shot back. “If we’re going out on an eight-hour ride, I want us to have every commodity possible. What if we get stranded in the woods somewhere with no phone signal or internet?” That was my mother being paranoid again. I turned around to greet the sound of the voice. It was Alan, my mother’s ridiculously hot boyfriend. With his lean, muscular build and bright brown hair, it was hard to believe that this man was nearly twice my age. Mom must have won the lottery in secret to have seduced such an impressive male specimen. I often found myself blushing in public because people often mistook him as my boyfriend, considering how hunky and young the tall man looked. “How about you two just go without me,” I suggested. “I mean, I’m 18- years-old and I’m more than capable of taking care of the house on my own.” “There’s no way you aren’t coming with us, Gia,” Mom answered. “This is your last year before you’re off to college. Who knows if we’ll ever be able to do this again!” I heaved out a long sigh. I’ve lived with her for long enough to know that she won’t change her opinion no matter what I say or do. “If you don’t get rid of the stuff in the back, Gia will barely have enough room to sit,” Alan added. “I don’t want my baby girl uncomfortable for eight straight hours, ya know?” His words are enough to make Mom pause. That's the thing about the right man in the house. When he says something, good girls do it. Mom is no exception. “Here’s an idea then,” Mom said. “How about Gia sits in the back with you? Problem solved.” “Sit in the back with me?” Alan frowned. “Are you kidding? Haven’t you been listening to what I’ve said?” “No, dear, you’re not understanding what I mean. All we have to do is move some things to the passenger seat so that you have enough room to sit. Then Gia can sit on your lap and everything will be nice and settled.” “Hold on, you want her to sit on my lap!? Why can’t she sit on yours!?” “Because I’ll be the one driving.” “The he ll should you drive for? It’s my family’s beach house we’re traveling to.” “And? Alan, whenever you’re on the road, I don’t feel safe. Who knows if you’ll drive like a maniac like last time.” “THAT HAPPENED ONE TIME!” I remembered that day. It was last year during our road trip. Alan was on the wheel in an empty road and thought it would be a fun idea to put his foot down on the gas pedal. The sudden burst of speed was enough to jolt my mother and I awake. It lasted only a few seconds but my mother made sure that he remembered it for the rest of his life. “Fine then,” Alan said, giving in to my mother’s demands. “I’ll sit in the back with ya Gia. But don’t make this any more uncomfortable than it needs to be, ya hear?” “Um, excuse me,” I added. “Shouldn’t I have a say in the matter?” The two of them looked at me as if they had little to no interest in what I had to say. I decided then it would be best to continue on with the trip with no further interruptions. But even though my mother had her way, I found it odd that Alan was so quick to agree with her. Usually, they would banter for far longer than this.Chapter 2 Whatever the case, I took my seat over Alan’s thlghs and closed the car door behind me. Mom started the car and I wiggled my bvm over Alan’s lap. As comfortable as my summer dress was, I still found it difficult to find a good position to sit on. “Gia, you moving too much,” Alan said to me. “Stay still already, will you?” “I’m sorry. It’s just so uncomfortable sitting on your lap.” “That’s odd. You didn’t say so when you were younger. I remembered you used to enjoy sitting on my lap.” “T-That was a long time ago!” I blushed. “I-I’m eighteen now and I deserve to be treated as such!” “Not going to happen,” Alan chuckled. “You’ll always be my baby girl whether you like it or not.” His large arms wrap around my waist to hold me steady. I found my cheeks reddening as the big man held me tightly like a boy did his stuffed animal. Sure, it was embarrassing that I was sitting on his lap like an infant. But thinking about it now, Alan’s warm body didn’t just feel comfortable. It felt right. It was difficult to explain but I somehow felt safe and protected with his hot body over me. For the next hour or so, I sat comfortably while listening to Mom and Alan argue back and forth with one another. It was such a shame. Mom didn’t deserve a man like him. How and why he bothered staying with her was impossible to understand. And the more I thought about it, the more I found myself drifting away into my dreams. Before long, my eyes had shut and I was sleeping in Alan’s large arms. I awake when the car makes an abrupt stop. My drowsy eyes peek around to see that we were parked outside a rundown gas station in the middle of nowhere. Outside was Mom, pumping gas into the vehicle. Beneath me was Alan, probably resting as well. Knowing my mother, she probably wasn’t going to allow him to drive even if she was tired and exhausted. There was a blanket over me and I was grateful for the courtesy. I cuddled up next to Alan, deciding it would be best if I returned to sleep. But when I feel something hard poking against my thlgh, my body freezes up and my eyes go wide. It takes me a while to realize that it was his pe nis, partly because I refused to believe it was true. After all, how could he have such lewd feelings about me? I was his baby girl, his precious little sweetheart. What kind of man could have an errection over a girl like that? I was no longer sleepy. All I could think about was Alan’s achingly hard diick angled neatly against my bvm. Mom returns to the car and starts up the engine. “You alright, Gia?” Mom called out, realizing that I was awake. “We still have some hours to go.” “Y-Yeah, Mom,” I answered. “I-I’m fine.” I’m fine? Was that the truth? The more I thought about his perversions, the giddier I was starting to feel. Giddy? No, I was straight up aroused. The one man in the world who should never have such thoughts about me was actually having them! It was so hot, so wrong, so taboo that I couldn’t help but get horrny. With that in mind, I figured I would enjoy the moment for a little bit longer. He was taking a nap anyway, so where was the harm in a bit of fun? I wiggled my bvtt backward, this time laying my pvssy directly on top of where his bo ner was. It felt so good as I imagined what it’d feel like to actually have him fvck my pvssy. There was a bump on the road, causing me to bounce on his lap. For a split second, I felt the imprint of his diick pressing firmly against my swollen cllit. Immediately, I felt a reaction in my body and I knew then that I wanted even more. What on earth was I thinking? I began rubbing and grinding myself against Alan’s large and powerful body. It was pretty fvcked up that I was pleasuring myself with my mother so close by. But with the windows wide open and given how safe of a driver she was, I knew that her attention would be focused only on the road rather than what was happening in the back. I’m so blinded by my own self-indulgent behavior that I don’t notice the creeping hands wrapping gently around my thlghs until I feel them running up my skirt. When that happens, I feel my heart skip a beat. My body refuses to budge as I realize that Alan was fully aware of what I was doing! It was like a horrible dream. Besides the humming of the road, the car was in total silence. Mom was the only one oblivious to the ongoings of the backseat. Having been caught grinding against his crottch, there was no doubt that he would punish me. Would it be a spanking? Or would he tell my mother? Either way, I was going to be totally humiliated by the time this trip was over. “Don’t stop, baby girl,” said a soft voice in my ear. “Keep going. I like it.”
I never imagined I would be having sax with my stepfather right under my mother’s eyes.It all started on a road trip—because the seats were cramped, I had to sit on his lap.“How’s it feel, Gia? Are you comfortable sitting on my lap?”“Y-Yes…,” I whispered back. “I-It’s very comfortable…”I wiggled my bvtt backward, this time laying my pvssy directly on top of where his bon er was.It felt so good as I imagined what it’d feel like to actually have him fvck my pvssy.“Well, that’s not fair. Because I’m not comfortable at all like this, baby.”“W-What do you mean?”“Can’t ya feel it? Can’t ya tell how uncomfortable I am?” He jerrked his hiips forward, thrusting his raging errection against my bvtt. “M-Maybe you should take it off then,” I whispered. “It’s not a good idea to leave it constricted like that.”“Oh? What do ya know about it?”“J-Just rumors at class. Y-You need to take care of that or… or they turn blue and big or something…”“You’re exactly right, baby girl. I do need to take care of it. And you’re going to help me.” “Gia, get in the car!” My mother bellowed. “We have to leave now!” “Mom, our car is too small! Where the heck am I supposed to sit with all this stuff in the back!” It was our yearly summer road trip to Alan’s family beach house. Like always, my hoarder of a mother liked to over-prepare for things by bringing more than what was needed. In the back of our small sedan were cases and cases of clothes, water, food, snacks, and especially toilet paper. “Hmm, it is true that we have too much stuff,” a stern voice calls from behind. “Maybe Gia’s right. Let’s leave some things at the house and―” “Absolutely not!” Mom shot back. “If we’re going out on an eight-hour ride, I want us to have every commodity possible. What if we get stranded in the woods somewhere with no phone signal or internet?” That was my mother being paranoid again. I turned around to greet the sound of the voice. It was Alan, my mother’s ridiculously hot boyfriend. With his lean, muscular build and bright brown hair, it was hard to believe that this man was nearly twice my age. Mom must have won the lottery in secret to have seduced such an impressive male specimen. I often found myself blushing in public because people often mistook him as my boyfriend, considering how hunky and young the tall man looked. “How about you two just go without me,” I suggested. “I mean, I’m 18- years-old and I’m more than capable of taking care of the house on my own.” “There’s no way you aren’t coming with us, Gia,” Mom answered. “This is your last year before you’re off to college. Who knows if we’ll ever be able to do this again!” I heaved out a long sigh. I’ve lived with her for long enough to know that she won’t change her opinion no matter what I say or do. “If you don’t get rid of the stuff in the back, Gia will barely have enough room to sit,” Alan added. “I don’t want my baby girl uncomfortable for eight straight hours, ya know?” His words are enough to make Mom pause. That's the thing about the right man in the house. When he says something, good girls do it. Mom is no exception. “Here’s an idea then,” Mom said. “How about Gia sits in the back with you? Problem solved.” “Sit in the back with me?” Alan frowned. “Are you kidding? Haven’t you been listening to what I’ve said?” “No, dear, you’re not understanding what I mean. All we have to do is move some things to the passenger seat so that you have enough room to sit. Then Gia can sit on your lap and everything will be nice and settled.” “Hold on, you want her to sit on my lap!? Why can’t she sit on yours!?” “Because I’ll be the one driving.” “The he ll should you drive for? It’s my family’s beach house we’re traveling to.” “And? Alan, whenever you’re on the road, I don’t feel safe. Who knows if you’ll drive like a maniac like last time.” “THAT HAPPENED ONE TIME!” I remembered that day. It was last year during our road trip. Alan was on the wheel in an empty road and thought it would be a fun idea to put his foot down on the gas pedal. The sudden burst of speed was enough to jolt my mother and I awake. It lasted only a few seconds but my mother made sure that he remembered it for the rest of his life. “Fine then,” Alan said, giving in to my mother’s demands. “I’ll sit in the back with ya Gia. But don’t make this any more uncomfortable than it needs to be, ya hear?” “Um, excuse me,” I added. “Shouldn’t I have a say in the matter?” The two of them looked at me as if they had little to no interest in what I had to say. I decided then it would be best to continue on with the trip with no further interruptions. But even though my mother had her way, I found it odd that Alan was so quick to agree with her. Usually, they would banter for far longer than this.Chapter 2 Whatever the case, I took my seat over Alan’s thlghs and closed the car door behind me. Mom started the car and I wiggled my bvm over Alan’s lap. As comfortable as my summer dress was, I still found it difficult to find a good position to sit on. “Gia, you moving too much,” Alan said to me. “Stay still already, will you?” “I’m sorry. It’s just so uncomfortable sitting on your lap.” “That’s odd. You didn’t say so when you were younger. I remembered you used to enjoy sitting on my lap.” “T-That was a long time ago!” I blushed. “I-I’m eighteen now and I deserve to be treated as such!” “Not going to happen,” Alan chuckled. “You’ll always be my baby girl whether you like it or not.” His large arms wrap around my waist to hold me steady. I found my cheeks reddening as the big man held me tightly like a boy did his stuffed animal. Sure, it was embarrassing that I was sitting on his lap like an infant. But thinking about it now, Alan’s warm body didn’t just feel comfortable. It felt right. It was difficult to explain but I somehow felt safe and protected with his hot body over me. For the next hour or so, I sat comfortably while listening to Mom and Alan argue back and forth with one another. It was such a shame. Mom didn’t deserve a man like him. How and why he bothered staying with her was impossible to understand. And the more I thought about it, the more I found myself drifting away into my dreams. Before long, my eyes had shut and I was sleeping in Alan’s large arms. I awake when the car makes an abrupt stop. My drowsy eyes peek around to see that we were parked outside a rundown gas station in the middle of nowhere. Outside was Mom, pumping gas into the vehicle. Beneath me was Alan, probably resting as well. Knowing my mother, she probably wasn’t going to allow him to drive even if she was tired and exhausted. There was a blanket over me and I was grateful for the courtesy. I cuddled up next to Alan, deciding it would be best if I returned to sleep. But when I feel something hard poking against my thlgh, my body freezes up and my eyes go wide. It takes me a while to realize that it was his pe nis, partly because I refused to believe it was true. After all, how could he have such lewd feelings about me? I was his baby girl, his precious little sweetheart. What kind of man could have an errection over a girl like that? I was no longer sleepy. All I could think about was Alan’s achingly hard diick angled neatly against my bvm. Mom returns to the car and starts up the engine. “You alright, Gia?” Mom called out, realizing that I was awake. “We still have some hours to go.” “Y-Yeah, Mom,” I answered. “I-I’m fine.” I’m fine? Was that the truth? The more I thought about his perversions, the giddier I was starting to feel. Giddy? No, I was straight up aroused. The one man in the world who should never have such thoughts about me was actually having them! It was so hot, so wrong, so taboo that I couldn’t help but get horrny. With that in mind, I figured I would enjoy the moment for a little bit longer. He was taking a nap anyway, so where was the harm in a bit of fun? I wiggled my bvtt backward, this time laying my pvssy directly on top of where his bo ner was. It felt so good as I imagined what it’d feel like to actually have him fvck my pvssy. There was a bump on the road, causing me to bounce on his lap. For a split second, I felt the imprint of his diick pressing firmly against my swollen cllit. Immediately, I felt a reaction in my body and I knew then that I wanted even more. What on earth was I thinking? I began rubbing and grinding myself against Alan’s large and powerful body. It was pretty fvcked up that I was pleasuring myself with my mother so close by. But with the windows wide open and given how safe of a driver she was, I knew that her attention would be focused only on the road rather than what was happening in the back. I’m so blinded by my own self-indulgent behavior that I don’t notice the creeping hands wrapping gently around my thlghs until I feel them running up my skirt. When that happens, I feel my heart skip a beat. My body refuses to budge as I realize that Alan was fully aware of what I was doing! It was like a horrible dream. Besides the humming of the road, the car was in total silence. Mom was the only one oblivious to the ongoings of the backseat. Having been caught grinding against his crottch, there was no doubt that he would punish me. Would it be a spanking? Or would he tell my mother? Either way, I was going to be totally humiliated by the time this trip was over. “Don’t stop, baby girl,” said a soft voice in my ear. “Keep going. I like it.”
I visited four nephrologists this year. The fourth one contradicted everything the previous three had told me. And that's when I realised I'd wasted twelve months watching my kidneys decline whilst three specialists argued about how to slow it down. "Drink more water and cut sodium," said the first. "We need to increase your ACE inhibitor," said the second. "Let's add an SGLT2 inhibitor to the protocol," said the third. "Have you ever tested what's converting your kidney tissue into scar?" said the fourth. Four specialists. Four completely different protocols. Three expensive prescriptions managing the same decline. One question that none of the others had ever asked. One of them had to be wrong. Or maybe the first three were all wrong about the same thing. That's what terrified me most. Knowing another year was about to start and my eGFR was 7 points lower than where it was twelve months ago. It started at the beginning of the year. Not a crisis. A trend. Creatinine crept from 124 to 150 µmol/L. eGFR went from 52 to 45. Foam showed up in my urine one morning. Then every morning. The energy I used to carry through a full workday started running out by early afternoon. That dull ache in my lower back settled in and never left. Reckoned I'd get ahead of it. Didn't want to drag kidney problems into another year without answers. My GP referred me to a nephrologist. Three weeks to get in. He looked at my labs, asked about medications and diet. "Classic Stage 3b progression," he said. "Cut your sodium. Drink more water. Your ACE inhibitor dose is appropriate." Seven-minute consultation. One dietary handout. One follow-up in six months. Six months later. eGFR dropped to 42. Foam still there. Fatigue worse. Second nephrologist. Academic centre. More bloods. More imaging. "You're underdosed on the ACE inhibitor," she said. Increased it. Added a low-protein diet recommendation. Three more months. eGFR 40. Still declining. Brain fog settling in so thick I started writing everything down at work because I couldn't trust my memory. My wife said: "You're either exhausted or worried. There's no in-between anymore." Third nephrologist. Largest nephrology group in the city. He glanced at my file for maybe forty-five seconds. "Let's try an SGLT2 inhibitor alongside the ACE inhibitor. Latest evidence supports it for CKD." That's when I lost it. "How can three kidney specialists have three different plans and my eGFR has dropped SEVEN points this year?" He shrugged. "Kidney disease progresses. We manage the rate." Progresses. Or was nobody actually identifying what was destroying my tissue? That night I couldn't sleep. Kitchen table. 2 o'clock in the morning. Searching "why eGFR drops despite ACE inhibitor" and "what actually causes kidney tissue death" during one of the last months of the year, knowing I was about to enter a new year with worse kidneys than I started with. My wife found me at 6 in the morning. Still scrolling. "Get another opinion." "What's the point? They'll add another prescription and my eGFR will still drop." "Then find someone who thinks differently." She was right. She's usually right. Different clinic. Younger nephrologist. Published researcher in renal fibrosis. And he did something none of the others had done. He didn't reach for a prescription pad. He pulled up my complete eGFR trend line from the past three years. Studied it for two full minutes in silence. Then he drew a diagram of a nephron on his notepad. "Everyone's been managing your pressure," he said. "And that matters. But your blood pressure has been controlled for over a year. Your diet is clean. Compliance is perfect." He tapped the trend line. "Yet your eGFR drops every quarter. That's not a pressure problem anymore. That's fibrosis." "What's fibrosis?" "A protein called TGF-beta is converting your healthy kidney tissue into collagen scar. Your ACE inhibitor doesn't suppress it. The SGLT2 inhibitor they want to add doesn't suppress it either. Nothing in the standard nephrology toolkit does." He sat back. "Your eGFR isn't the disease. It's the scorecard. The disease is the scar conversion happening underneath. And nobody's been treating it." Finally. Someone making sense. And I wasn't willing to carry untreated fibrosis into another year. "So what suppresses TGF-beta?" I asked. He showed me a research paper on his screen. "Anthocyanins from elderberry. Cold-extracted. 10% standardised. 1200mg. Published research shows 35-50% suppression of TGF-beta expression. They inhibit NF-kB, the master inflammatory switch that triggers the fibrotic cascade." He paused. "But it has to be cold-extracted below 38°C. Heat processing destroys the anthocyanin structures. Most elderberry on the market is immune syrup. Your kidneys never notice it." "Why didn't any of the other three mention this?" He smiled faintly. "There's no pharmaceutical version. No patent. No billing code. And dialysis generates £70,000 per patient per year for the corporations that own the chairs." "There's no money in stopping fibrosis. Only in managing the decline it causes." He told me the one formulation he trusted. Lumero. Cold-extracted. 1200mg. 10% standardised anthocyanins. Zinc citrate for kidney tissue repair. Buffered vitamin C for overwhelmed detox pathways. Third-party tested. I ordered from the car park. Received it next Thursday. And thank God I didn't waste another month. Day 3: Something shifted underneath. Not dramatic. The inflammation felt quieter. Like someone turned a dial down half a notch. Week 1: Foam thinner. Not gone. But thinner. First visible change in my urine in twelve months. I stood over the toilet staring at it, afraid to believe it. Week 2: Energy held past 2 o'clock in the afternoon. The wall moved. My wife noticed before I said anything. "You're still awake at dinner." Week 3: Dull ache in my lower back went quiet. I pressed on the spot. Nothing. Walked three miles that Saturday without stopping. Haven't done that all year. Month 2: Bloods. Creatinine dropped from 150 to 124 µmol/L. eGFR from 40 to 47. My fourth nephrologist nodded. "TGF-beta suppression is working. Keep going." Month 3: eGFR at 49. Foam nearly gone. Energy back to what it was years ago. Boxed up my cranberry supplements. My NAC. My CoQ10. Got partial refunds on two subscriptions. Support asked: "Reason for cancellation?" "Found something that addresses the root." I told my neighbour Susan about it. Same story. Stage 3 CKD. Two nephrologists. ACE inhibitor. eGFR declining every year. Kidney supplements doing nothing. She started Lumero alongside her medication. Three weeks later, she called me: "The foam is clearing. First time in two years. What is this stuff?" My brother had been on lisinopril for four years. eGFR dropping 3 points annually. His nephrologist was starting the dialysis conversation. He started Lumero. Month two bloods: creatinine stable for the first time since diagnosis. His nephrologist said "whatever you changed, don't change it back." Even my colleague Mark, the one who'd tried every kidney supplement on the market, five different brands, five different disappointments, switched to Lumero. Six weeks later he cancelled every other subscription. "I was treating everything except the mechanism that was actually killing my kidneys." My wife's uncle had been "monitoring" his CKD for seven years. Seven years of quarterly bloods showing slow decline. eGFR from 60 to 35. Nobody panicking because it was "expected progression." He started Lumero three months ago. His last bloods held. First time in seven years his eGFR didn't drop. His nephrologist said: "I don't know what changed, but your numbers stabilised." His wife rang mine: "Why didn't anyone tell us about this seven years ago?" Because nobody profits from a berry extract that stops the fibrotic cascade. They profit from ACE inhibitors at £50 a month. SGLT2 inhibitors at £400 a month. Specialist visits at £300 every quarter. And eventually dialysis at £70,000 a year. The system manages every stage of the decline. It never addresses the mechanism driving it. Three nephrologists told me to adjust doses, add prescriptions, or accept the trajectory. One identified the mechanism. One question nobody else asked: "What's converting your tissue to scar?" TGF-beta. The answer was always TGF-beta. 🌿 Lumero. 1200mg cold-extracted elderberry standardised to 10% anthocyanins. Zinc citrate. Buffered vitamin C. Third-party tested. Certificate of Analysis published. 💕 60-day money-back guarantee 🌿 Cold-extracted below 38°C 🧬 10% standardised — clinical concentration ⭐ Third-party tested with published results Four nephrologists. Twelve months. Thousands of pounds. Seven eGFR points lost. One compound addressed the mechanism they all missed. My eGFR went from 40 to 49. The first three are still prescribing the same protocol. I'm hiking with my wife and entering the new year with kidneys that are GAINING function instead of losing it. Don't drag untreated fibrosis into another year. Every month of unchecked TGF-beta is nephrons you don't get back. 👉 https://lumeroofficial.com/pages/lumero-elderberry-daily-kidney-filter-support P.S. I told four people about Lumero. All four had the same experience: foam thinning within weeks, energy returning, bloods stabilising or improving. Susan. My brother. Mark. My wife's uncle. Four people. Four different stages of CKD. Four different nephrologists who never mentioned TGF-beta. All four responded. Because the mechanism is the same regardless of stage. TGF-beta doesn't care which nephrologist you see. Lumero suppresses it regardless. Start now. Tell someone you care about. This shouldn't stay buried in research papers whilst kidneys fail. P.P.S. The foam is your daily signal. Check it tomorrow morning. Then start Lumero. Check it again in two weeks. If it thins, TGF-beta suppression is activating. Your toilet tells you the truth faster than any quarterly bloods. Three of my four nephrologists never once asked about my foam. The fourth asked about it first. That's how you know who understands what's actually happening inside your kidneys. 👉 https://lumeroofficial.com/pages/lumero-elderberry-daily-kidney-filter-support
I visited four nephrologists this year. The fourth one contradicted everything the previous three had told me. And that's when I realised I'd wasted twelve months watching my kidneys decline whilst three specialists argued about how to slow it down. "Drink more water and cut sodium," said the first. "We need to increase your ACE inhibitor," said the second. "Let's add an SGLT2 inhibitor to the protocol," said the third. "Have you ever tested what's converting your kidney tissue into scar?" said the fourth. Four specialists. Four completely different protocols. Three expensive prescriptions managing the same decline. One question that none of the others had ever asked. One of them had to be wrong. Or maybe the first three were all wrong about the same thing. That's what terrified me most. Knowing another year was about to start and my eGFR was 7 points lower than where it was twelve months ago. It started at the beginning of the year. Not a crisis. A trend. Creatinine crept from 124 to 150 µmol/L. eGFR went from 52 to 45. Foam showed up in my urine one morning. Then every morning. The energy I used to carry through a full workday started running out by early afternoon. That dull ache in my lower back settled in and never left. Reckoned I'd get ahead of it. Didn't want to drag kidney problems into another year without answers. My GP referred me to a nephrologist. Three weeks to get in. He looked at my labs, asked about medications and diet. "Classic Stage 3b progression," he said. "Cut your sodium. Drink more water. Your ACE inhibitor dose is appropriate." Seven-minute consultation. One dietary handout. One follow-up in six months. Six months later. eGFR dropped to 42. Foam still there. Fatigue worse. Second nephrologist. Academic centre. More bloods. More imaging. "You're underdosed on the ACE inhibitor," she said. Increased it. Added a low-protein diet recommendation. Three more months. eGFR 40. Still declining. Brain fog settling in so thick I started writing everything down at work because I couldn't trust my memory. My wife said: "You're either exhausted or worried. There's no in-between anymore." Third nephrologist. Largest nephrology group in the city. He glanced at my file for maybe forty-five seconds. "Let's try an SGLT2 inhibitor alongside the ACE inhibitor. Latest evidence supports it for CKD." That's when I lost it. "How can three kidney specialists have three different plans and my eGFR has dropped SEVEN points this year?" He shrugged. "Kidney disease progresses. We manage the rate." Progresses. Or was nobody actually identifying what was destroying my tissue? That night I couldn't sleep. Kitchen table. 2 o'clock in the morning. Searching "why eGFR drops despite ACE inhibitor" and "what actually causes kidney tissue death" during one of the last months of the year, knowing I was about to enter a new year with worse kidneys than I started with. My wife found me at 6 in the morning. Still scrolling. "Get another opinion." "What's the point? They'll add another prescription and my eGFR will still drop." "Then find someone who thinks differently." She was right. She's usually right. Different clinic. Younger nephrologist. Published researcher in renal fibrosis. And he did something none of the others had done. He didn't reach for a prescription pad. He pulled up my complete eGFR trend line from the past three years. Studied it for two full minutes in silence. Then he drew a diagram of a nephron on his notepad. "Everyone's been managing your pressure," he said. "And that matters. But your blood pressure has been controlled for over a year. Your diet is clean. Compliance is perfect." He tapped the trend line. "Yet your eGFR drops every quarter. That's not a pressure problem anymore. That's fibrosis." "What's fibrosis?" "A protein called TGF-beta is converting your healthy kidney tissue into collagen scar. Your ACE inhibitor doesn't suppress it. The SGLT2 inhibitor they want to add doesn't suppress it either. Nothing in the standard nephrology toolkit does." He sat back. "Your eGFR isn't the disease. It's the scorecard. The disease is the scar conversion happening underneath. And nobody's been treating it." Finally. Someone making sense. And I wasn't willing to carry untreated fibrosis into another year. "So what suppresses TGF-beta?" I asked. He showed me a research paper on his screen. "Anthocyanins from elderberry. Cold-extracted. 10% standardised. 1200mg. Published research shows 35-50% suppression of TGF-beta expression. They inhibit NF-kB, the master inflammatory switch that triggers the fibrotic cascade." He paused. "But it has to be cold-extracted below 38°C. Heat processing destroys the anthocyanin structures. Most elderberry on the market is immune syrup. Your kidneys never notice it." "Why didn't any of the other three mention this?" He smiled faintly. "There's no pharmaceutical version. No patent. No billing code. And dialysis generates £70,000 per patient per year for the corporations that own the chairs." "There's no money in stopping fibrosis. Only in managing the decline it causes." He told me the one formulation he trusted. Lumero. Cold-extracted. 1200mg. 10% standardised anthocyanins. Zinc citrate for kidney tissue repair. Buffered vitamin C for overwhelmed detox pathways. Third-party tested. I ordered from the car park. Received it next Thursday. And thank God I didn't waste another month. Day 3: Something shifted underneath. Not dramatic. The inflammation felt quieter. Like someone turned a dial down half a notch. Week 1: Foam thinner. Not gone. But thinner. First visible change in my urine in twelve months. I stood over the toilet staring at it, afraid to believe it. Week 2: Energy held past 2 o'clock in the afternoon. The wall moved. My wife noticed before I said anything. "You're still awake at dinner." Week 3: Dull ache in my lower back went quiet. I pressed on the spot. Nothing. Walked three miles that Saturday without stopping. Haven't done that all year. Month 2: Bloods. Creatinine dropped from 150 to 124 µmol/L. eGFR from 40 to 47. My fourth nephrologist nodded. "TGF-beta suppression is working. Keep going." Month 3: eGFR at 49. Foam nearly gone. Energy back to what it was years ago. Boxed up my cranberry supplements. My NAC. My CoQ10. Got partial refunds on two subscriptions. Support asked: "Reason for cancellation?" "Found something that addresses the root." I told my neighbour Susan about it. Same story. Stage 3 CKD. Two nephrologists. ACE inhibitor. eGFR declining every year. Kidney supplements doing nothing. She started Lumero alongside her medication. Three weeks later, she called me: "The foam is clearing. First time in two years. What is this stuff?" My brother had been on lisinopril for four years. eGFR dropping 3 points annually. His nephrologist was starting the dialysis conversation. He started Lumero. Month two bloods: creatinine stable for the first time since diagnosis. His nephrologist said "whatever you changed, don't change it back." Even my colleague Mark, the one who'd tried every kidney supplement on the market, five different brands, five different disappointments, switched to Lumero. Six weeks later he cancelled every other subscription. "I was treating everything except the mechanism that was actually killing my kidneys." My wife's uncle had been "monitoring" his CKD for seven years. Seven years of quarterly bloods showing slow decline. eGFR from 60 to 35. Nobody panicking because it was "expected progression." He started Lumero three months ago. His last bloods held. First time in seven years his eGFR didn't drop. His nephrologist said: "I don't know what changed, but your numbers stabilised." His wife rang mine: "Why didn't anyone tell us about this seven years ago?" Because nobody profits from a berry extract that stops the fibrotic cascade. They profit from ACE inhibitors at £50 a month. SGLT2 inhibitors at £400 a month. Specialist visits at £300 every quarter. And eventually dialysis at £70,000 a year. The system manages every stage of the decline. It never addresses the mechanism driving it. Three nephrologists told me to adjust doses, add prescriptions, or accept the trajectory. One identified the mechanism. One question nobody else asked: "What's converting your tissue to scar?" TGF-beta. The answer was always TGF-beta. 🌿 Lumero. 1200mg cold-extracted elderberry standardised to 10% anthocyanins. Zinc citrate. Buffered vitamin C. Third-party tested. Certificate of Analysis published. 💕 60-day money-back guarantee 🌿 Cold-extracted below 38°C 🧬 10% standardised — clinical concentration ⭐ Third-party tested with published results Four nephrologists. Twelve months. Thousands of pounds. Seven eGFR points lost. One compound addressed the mechanism they all missed. My eGFR went from 40 to 49. The first three are still prescribing the same protocol. I'm hiking with my wife and entering the new year with kidneys that are GAINING function instead of losing it. Don't drag untreated fibrosis into another year. Every month of unchecked TGF-beta is nephrons you don't get back. 👉 https://lumeroofficial.com/pages/lumero-elderberry-daily-kidney-filter-support P.S. I told four people about Lumero. All four had the same experience: foam thinning within weeks, energy returning, bloods stabilising or improving. Susan. My brother. Mark. My wife's uncle. Four people. Four different stages of CKD. Four different nephrologists who never mentioned TGF-beta. All four responded. Because the mechanism is the same regardless of stage. TGF-beta doesn't care which nephrologist you see. Lumero suppresses it regardless. Start now. Tell someone you care about. This shouldn't stay buried in research papers whilst kidneys fail. P.P.S. The foam is your daily signal. Check it tomorrow morning. Then start Lumero. Check it again in two weeks. If it thins, TGF-beta suppression is activating. Your toilet tells you the truth faster than any quarterly bloods. Three of my four nephrologists never once asked about my foam. The fourth asked about it first. That's how you know who understands what's actually happening inside your kidneys. 👉 https://lumeroofficial.com/pages/lumero-elderberry-daily-kidney-filter-support
I visited four nephrologists this year. The fourth one contradicted everything the previous three had told me. And that's when I realised I'd wasted twelve months watching my kidneys decline whilst three specialists argued about how to slow it down. "Drink more water and cut sodium," said the first. "We need to increase your ACE inhibitor," said the second. "Let's add an SGLT2 inhibitor to the protocol," said the third. "Have you ever tested what's converting your kidney tissue into scar?" said the fourth. Four specialists. Four completely different protocols. Three expensive prescriptions managing the same decline. One question that none of the others had ever asked. One of them had to be wrong. Or maybe the first three were all wrong about the same thing. That's what terrified me most. Knowing another year was about to start and my eGFR was 7 points lower than where it was twelve months ago. It started at the beginning of the year. Not a crisis. A trend. Creatinine crept from 124 to 150 µmol/L. eGFR went from 52 to 45. Foam showed up in my urine one morning. Then every morning. The energy I used to carry through a full workday started running out by early afternoon. That dull ache in my lower back settled in and never left. Reckoned I'd get ahead of it. Didn't want to drag kidney problems into another year without answers. My GP referred me to a nephrologist. Three weeks to get in. He looked at my labs, asked about medications and diet. "Classic Stage 3b progression," he said. "Cut your sodium. Drink more water. Your ACE inhibitor dose is appropriate." Seven-minute consultation. One dietary handout. One follow-up in six months. Six months later. eGFR dropped to 42. Foam still there. Fatigue worse. Second nephrologist. Academic centre. More bloods. More imaging. "You're underdosed on the ACE inhibitor," she said. Increased it. Added a low-protein diet recommendation. Three more months. eGFR 40. Still declining. Brain fog settling in so thick I started writing everything down at work because I couldn't trust my memory. My wife said: "You're either exhausted or worried. There's no in-between anymore." Third nephrologist. Largest nephrology group in the city. He glanced at my file for maybe forty-five seconds. "Let's try an SGLT2 inhibitor alongside the ACE inhibitor. Latest evidence supports it for CKD." That's when I lost it. "How can three kidney specialists have three different plans and my eGFR has dropped SEVEN points this year?" He shrugged. "Kidney disease progresses. We manage the rate." Progresses. Or was nobody actually identifying what was destroying my tissue? That night I couldn't sleep. Kitchen table. 2 o'clock in the morning. Searching "why eGFR drops despite ACE inhibitor" and "what actually causes kidney tissue death" during one of the last months of the year, knowing I was about to enter a new year with worse kidneys than I started with. My wife found me at 6 in the morning. Still scrolling. "Get another opinion." "What's the point? They'll add another prescription and my eGFR will still drop." "Then find someone who thinks differently." She was right. She's usually right. Different clinic. Younger nephrologist. Published researcher in renal fibrosis. And he did something none of the others had done. He didn't reach for a prescription pad. He pulled up my complete eGFR trend line from the past three years. Studied it for two full minutes in silence. Then he drew a diagram of a nephron on his notepad. "Everyone's been managing your pressure," he said. "And that matters. But your blood pressure has been controlled for over a year. Your diet is clean. Compliance is perfect." He tapped the trend line. "Yet your eGFR drops every quarter. That's not a pressure problem anymore. That's fibrosis." "What's fibrosis?" "A protein called TGF-beta is converting your healthy kidney tissue into collagen scar. Your ACE inhibitor doesn't suppress it. The SGLT2 inhibitor they want to add doesn't suppress it either. Nothing in the standard nephrology toolkit does." He sat back. "Your eGFR isn't the disease. It's the scorecard. The disease is the scar conversion happening underneath. And nobody's been treating it." Finally. Someone making sense. And I wasn't willing to carry untreated fibrosis into another year. "So what suppresses TGF-beta?" I asked. He showed me a research paper on his screen. "Anthocyanins from elderberry. Cold-extracted. 10% standardised. 1200mg. Published research shows 35-50% suppression of TGF-beta expression. They inhibit NF-kB, the master inflammatory switch that triggers the fibrotic cascade." He paused. "But it has to be cold-extracted below 38°C. Heat processing destroys the anthocyanin structures. Most elderberry on the market is immune syrup. Your kidneys never notice it." "Why didn't any of the other three mention this?" He smiled faintly. "There's no pharmaceutical version. No patent. No billing code. And dialysis generates £70,000 per patient per year for the corporations that own the chairs." "There's no money in stopping fibrosis. Only in managing the decline it causes." He told me the one formulation he trusted. Lumero. Cold-extracted. 1200mg. 10% standardised anthocyanins. Zinc citrate for kidney tissue repair. Buffered vitamin C for overwhelmed detox pathways. Third-party tested. I ordered from the car park. Received it next Thursday. And thank God I didn't waste another month. Day 3: Something shifted underneath. Not dramatic. The inflammation felt quieter. Like someone turned a dial down half a notch. Week 1: Foam thinner. Not gone. But thinner. First visible change in my urine in twelve months. I stood over the toilet staring at it, afraid to believe it. Week 2: Energy held past 2 o'clock in the afternoon. The wall moved. My wife noticed before I said anything. "You're still awake at dinner." Week 3: Dull ache in my lower back went quiet. I pressed on the spot. Nothing. Walked three miles that Saturday without stopping. Haven't done that all year. Month 2: Bloods. Creatinine dropped from 150 to 124 µmol/L. eGFR from 40 to 47. My fourth nephrologist nodded. "TGF-beta suppression is working. Keep going." Month 3: eGFR at 49. Foam nearly gone. Energy back to what it was years ago. Boxed up my cranberry supplements. My NAC. My CoQ10. Got partial refunds on two subscriptions. Support asked: "Reason for cancellation?" "Found something that addresses the root." I told my neighbour Susan about it. Same story. Stage 3 CKD. Two nephrologists. ACE inhibitor. eGFR declining every year. Kidney supplements doing nothing. She started Lumero alongside her medication. Three weeks later, she called me: "The foam is clearing. First time in two years. What is this stuff?" My brother had been on lisinopril for four years. eGFR dropping 3 points annually. His nephrologist was starting the dialysis conversation. He started Lumero. Month two bloods: creatinine stable for the first time since diagnosis. His nephrologist said "whatever you changed, don't change it back." Even my colleague Mark, the one who'd tried every kidney supplement on the market, five different brands, five different disappointments, switched to Lumero. Six weeks later he cancelled every other subscription. "I was treating everything except the mechanism that was actually killing my kidneys." My wife's uncle had been "monitoring" his CKD for seven years. Seven years of quarterly bloods showing slow decline. eGFR from 60 to 35. Nobody panicking because it was "expected progression." He started Lumero three months ago. His last bloods held. First time in seven years his eGFR didn't drop. His nephrologist said: "I don't know what changed, but your numbers stabilised." His wife rang mine: "Why didn't anyone tell us about this seven years ago?" Because nobody profits from a berry extract that stops the fibrotic cascade. They profit from ACE inhibitors at £50 a month. SGLT2 inhibitors at £400 a month. Specialist visits at £300 every quarter. And eventually dialysis at £70,000 a year. The system manages every stage of the decline. It never addresses the mechanism driving it. Three nephrologists told me to adjust doses, add prescriptions, or accept the trajectory. One identified the mechanism. One question nobody else asked: "What's converting your tissue to scar?" TGF-beta. The answer was always TGF-beta. 🌿 Lumero. 1200mg cold-extracted elderberry standardised to 10% anthocyanins. Zinc citrate. Buffered vitamin C. Third-party tested. Certificate of Analysis published. 💕 60-day money-back guarantee 🌿 Cold-extracted below 38°C 🧬 10% standardised — clinical concentration ⭐ Third-party tested with published results Four nephrologists. Twelve months. Thousands of pounds. Seven eGFR points lost. One compound addressed the mechanism they all missed. My eGFR went from 40 to 49. The first three are still prescribing the same protocol. I'm hiking with my wife and entering the new year with kidneys that are GAINING function instead of losing it. Don't drag untreated fibrosis into another year. Every month of unchecked TGF-beta is nephrons you don't get back. 👉 https://lumeroofficial.com/pages/lumero-elderberry-daily-kidney-filter-support P.S. I told four people about Lumero. All four had the same experience: foam thinning within weeks, energy returning, bloods stabilising or improving. Susan. My brother. Mark. My wife's uncle. Four people. Four different stages of CKD. Four different nephrologists who never mentioned TGF-beta. All four responded. Because the mechanism is the same regardless of stage. TGF-beta doesn't care which nephrologist you see. Lumero suppresses it regardless. Start now. Tell someone you care about. This shouldn't stay buried in research papers whilst kidneys fail. P.P.S. The foam is your daily signal. Check it tomorrow morning. Then start Lumero. Check it again in two weeks. If it thins, TGF-beta suppression is activating. Your toilet tells you the truth faster than any quarterly bloods. Three of my four nephrologists never once asked about my foam. The fourth asked about it first. That's how you know who understands what's actually happening inside your kidneys. 👉 https://lumeroofficial.com/pages/lumero-elderberry-daily-kidney-filter-support
I visited four nephrologists this year. The fourth one contradicted everything the previous three had told me. And that's when I realised I'd wasted twelve months watching my kidneys decline whilst three specialists argued about how to slow it down. "Drink more water and cut sodium," said the first. "We need to increase your ACE inhibitor," said the second. "Let's add an SGLT2 inhibitor to the protocol," said the third. "Have you ever tested what's converting your kidney tissue into scar?" said the fourth. Four specialists. Four completely different protocols. Three expensive prescriptions managing the same decline. One question that none of the others had ever asked. One of them had to be wrong. Or maybe the first three were all wrong about the same thing. That's what terrified me most. Knowing another year was about to start and my eGFR was 7 points lower than where it was twelve months ago. It started at the beginning of the year. Not a crisis. A trend. Creatinine crept from 124 to 150 µmol/L. eGFR went from 52 to 45. Foam showed up in my urine one morning. Then every morning. The energy I used to carry through a full workday started running out by early afternoon. That dull ache in my lower back settled in and never left. Reckoned I'd get ahead of it. Didn't want to drag kidney problems into another year without answers. My GP referred me to a nephrologist. Three weeks to get in. He looked at my labs, asked about medications and diet. "Classic Stage 3b progression," he said. "Cut your sodium. Drink more water. Your ACE inhibitor dose is appropriate." Seven-minute consultation. One dietary handout. One follow-up in six months. Six months later. eGFR dropped to 42. Foam still there. Fatigue worse. Second nephrologist. Academic centre. More bloods. More imaging. "You're underdosed on the ACE inhibitor," she said. Increased it. Added a low-protein diet recommendation. Three more months. eGFR 40. Still declining. Brain fog settling in so thick I started writing everything down at work because I couldn't trust my memory. My wife said: "You're either exhausted or worried. There's no in-between anymore." Third nephrologist. Largest nephrology group in the city. He glanced at my file for maybe forty-five seconds. "Let's try an SGLT2 inhibitor alongside the ACE inhibitor. Latest evidence supports it for CKD." That's when I lost it. "How can three kidney specialists have three different plans and my eGFR has dropped SEVEN points this year?" He shrugged. "Kidney disease progresses. We manage the rate." Progresses. Or was nobody actually identifying what was destroying my tissue? That night I couldn't sleep. Kitchen table. 2 o'clock in the morning. Searching "why eGFR drops despite ACE inhibitor" and "what actually causes kidney tissue death" during one of the last months of the year, knowing I was about to enter a new year with worse kidneys than I started with. My wife found me at 6 in the morning. Still scrolling. "Get another opinion." "What's the point? They'll add another prescription and my eGFR will still drop." "Then find someone who thinks differently." She was right. She's usually right. Different clinic. Younger nephrologist. Published researcher in renal fibrosis. And he did something none of the others had done. He didn't reach for a prescription pad. He pulled up my complete eGFR trend line from the past three years. Studied it for two full minutes in silence. Then he drew a diagram of a nephron on his notepad. "Everyone's been managing your pressure," he said. "And that matters. But your blood pressure has been controlled for over a year. Your diet is clean. Compliance is perfect." He tapped the trend line. "Yet your eGFR drops every quarter. That's not a pressure problem anymore. That's fibrosis." "What's fibrosis?" "A protein called TGF-beta is converting your healthy kidney tissue into collagen scar. Your ACE inhibitor doesn't suppress it. The SGLT2 inhibitor they want to add doesn't suppress it either. Nothing in the standard nephrology toolkit does." He sat back. "Your eGFR isn't the disease. It's the scorecard. The disease is the scar conversion happening underneath. And nobody's been treating it." Finally. Someone making sense. And I wasn't willing to carry untreated fibrosis into another year. "So what suppresses TGF-beta?" I asked. He showed me a research paper on his screen. "Anthocyanins from elderberry. Cold-extracted. 10% standardised. 1200mg. Published research shows 35-50% suppression of TGF-beta expression. They inhibit NF-kB, the master inflammatory switch that triggers the fibrotic cascade." He paused. "But it has to be cold-extracted below 38°C. Heat processing destroys the anthocyanin structures. Most elderberry on the market is immune syrup. Your kidneys never notice it." "Why didn't any of the other three mention this?" He smiled faintly. "There's no pharmaceutical version. No patent. No billing code. And dialysis generates £70,000 per patient per year for the corporations that own the chairs." "There's no money in stopping fibrosis. Only in managing the decline it causes." He told me the one formulation he trusted. Lumero. Cold-extracted. 1200mg. 10% standardised anthocyanins. Zinc citrate for kidney tissue repair. Buffered vitamin C for overwhelmed detox pathways. Third-party tested. I ordered from the car park. Received it next Thursday. And thank God I didn't waste another month. Day 3: Something shifted underneath. Not dramatic. The inflammation felt quieter. Like someone turned a dial down half a notch. Week 1: Foam thinner. Not gone. But thinner. First visible change in my urine in twelve months. I stood over the toilet staring at it, afraid to believe it. Week 2: Energy held past 2 o'clock in the afternoon. The wall moved. My wife noticed before I said anything. "You're still awake at dinner." Week 3: Dull ache in my lower back went quiet. I pressed on the spot. Nothing. Walked three miles that Saturday without stopping. Haven't done that all year. Month 2: Bloods. Creatinine dropped from 150 to 124 µmol/L. eGFR from 40 to 47. My fourth nephrologist nodded. "TGF-beta suppression is working. Keep going." Month 3: eGFR at 49. Foam nearly gone. Energy back to what it was years ago. Boxed up my cranberry supplements. My NAC. My CoQ10. Got partial refunds on two subscriptions. Support asked: "Reason for cancellation?" "Found something that addresses the root." I told my neighbour Susan about it. Same story. Stage 3 CKD. Two nephrologists. ACE inhibitor. eGFR declining every year. Kidney supplements doing nothing. She started Lumero alongside her medication. Three weeks later, she called me: "The foam is clearing. First time in two years. What is this stuff?" My brother had been on lisinopril for four years. eGFR dropping 3 points annually. His nephrologist was starting the dialysis conversation. He started Lumero. Month two bloods: creatinine stable for the first time since diagnosis. His nephrologist said "whatever you changed, don't change it back." Even my colleague Mark, the one who'd tried every kidney supplement on the market, five different brands, five different disappointments, switched to Lumero. Six weeks later he cancelled every other subscription. "I was treating everything except the mechanism that was actually killing my kidneys." My wife's uncle had been "monitoring" his CKD for seven years. Seven years of quarterly bloods showing slow decline. eGFR from 60 to 35. Nobody panicking because it was "expected progression." He started Lumero three months ago. His last bloods held. First time in seven years his eGFR didn't drop. His nephrologist said: "I don't know what changed, but your numbers stabilised." His wife rang mine: "Why didn't anyone tell us about this seven years ago?" Because nobody profits from a berry extract that stops the fibrotic cascade. They profit from ACE inhibitors at £50 a month. SGLT2 inhibitors at £400 a month. Specialist visits at £300 every quarter. And eventually dialysis at £70,000 a year. The system manages every stage of the decline. It never addresses the mechanism driving it. Three nephrologists told me to adjust doses, add prescriptions, or accept the trajectory. One identified the mechanism. One question nobody else asked: "What's converting your tissue to scar?" TGF-beta. The answer was always TGF-beta. 🌿 Lumero. 1200mg cold-extracted elderberry standardised to 10% anthocyanins. Zinc citrate. Buffered vitamin C. Third-party tested. Certificate of Analysis published. 💕 60-day money-back guarantee 🌿 Cold-extracted below 38°C 🧬 10% standardised — clinical concentration ⭐ Third-party tested with published results Four nephrologists. Twelve months. Thousands of pounds. Seven eGFR points lost. One compound addressed the mechanism they all missed. My eGFR went from 40 to 49. The first three are still prescribing the same protocol. I'm hiking with my wife and entering the new year with kidneys that are GAINING function instead of losing it. Don't drag untreated fibrosis into another year. Every month of unchecked TGF-beta is nephrons you don't get back. 👉 https://lumeroofficial.com/pages/lumero-elderberry-daily-kidney-filter-support P.S. I told four people about Lumero. All four had the same experience: foam thinning within weeks, energy returning, bloods stabilising or improving. Susan. My brother. Mark. My wife's uncle. Four people. Four different stages of CKD. Four different nephrologists who never mentioned TGF-beta. All four responded. Because the mechanism is the same regardless of stage. TGF-beta doesn't care which nephrologist you see. Lumero suppresses it regardless. Start now. Tell someone you care about. This shouldn't stay buried in research papers whilst kidneys fail. P.P.S. The foam is your daily signal. Check it tomorrow morning. Then start Lumero. Check it again in two weeks. If it thins, TGF-beta suppression is activating. Your toilet tells you the truth faster than any quarterly bloods. Three of my four nephrologists never once asked about my foam. The fourth asked about it first. That's how you know who understands what's actually happening inside your kidneys. 👉 https://lumeroofficial.com/pages/lumero-elderberry-daily-kidney-filter-support
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Chapter 1 His First Love Returned Sophia Evans could feel her world beginning to crack the moment she heard the news—the woman her husband, Lucas Westwood, had never gotten over was back. When Sophia arrived at the hotel's VIP suite with a gift, she found Lucas's first love—Emily Evans—being humiliated by his childhood friends. "Lick the wine off my shoe, Emily. I'll give you thirty thousand dollars," one of them said. Emily was forced to kneel on the floor, tears in her defiant eyes as she stared shamefully at Lucas. Lucas watched with a dark expression, saying nothing as he held his temper in check. Sophia halted mid-step, struck by the painful familiarity of the scene. Three years ago, when she had first been welcomed into the Evans family, these same privileged young men had tormented her in exactly the same way to gain Emily's favor. But back then, Lucas hadn't worn this expression of utter heartbreak. "There you are," Lucas said as soon as he spotted Sophia, his arm sliding around her waist in a show of intimacy. Only Sophia could feel the desperate pressure of his grip—a silent testament to the pain he was trying to conceal. Lucas's childhood friends had reserved the entire venue for his birthday celebration. But Sophia had never expected Emily to show up here. Everyone knew Lucas had married Sophia just to spite Emily. Three years ago, Emily's identity as a fake heiress was exposed. She broke up with Lucas then and there and left the Evans family behind. Lucas pursued her to the airport, boarded her departing flight, and forced the plane that had already taken off to turn back. Right there on that plane, he proposed to Emily. To his complete surprise, Emily refused without hesitation, declaring that the arranged marriage should be honored by the Evans family's true heiress. Humiliated and acting out of spite, Lucas married Sophia instead. For three years, Sophia had lived as Emily's stand-in. Everyone whispered that if Emily ever returned, Lucas would discard Sophia without a second thought. Sophia had once believed that too, but something had shifted in these past six months—Lucas seemed to be genuinely falling for her. He made grand declarations of love in the press, showered her with luxury homes and cars, and even replaced the cherry tree he'd planted for Emily with a garden full of red roses. In their most tender moments, he'd whisper against her ear, "Let's have a baby, Sophie. I hope they have your smile." Sophia's hand drifted absently to her stomach as she clutched the gift box a little tighter. Inside was a positive pregnancy test—meant to be Lucas's birthday surprise. But now, the timing of the gift felt all wrong. "You still think you're the Evans family princess, Emily? Lucas only has eyes for Sophia now. Why not be with me? A pretty thing like you deserves to be treated right," one of Lucas's friends, Ryan Shaw, sneered. He dragged Emily onto his lap, his hands already roaming over her. "Get your hands off me!" Emily cried, fighting against Ryan's grip as humiliation burned through her. Her resistance only fueled Ryan's excitement. In one swift motion, he shoved her down onto the couch, his powerful body trapping hers. Horrified that Ryan would assault Emily right in front of Lucas, Sophia jumped up to stop him, only to be shoved aside as Lucas already surged into action. As she stumbled, her hands instinctively reached for Lucas's arm, but he brutally shook her off. She hit the floor hard, a jolt of sharp pain shooting from her tailbone straight to her womb. Through the pain-induced haze, she saw Lucas grab Ryan by the collar, drag him off Emily, and pummel his face with brutal, unforgiving fists. "You've overstepped, Ryan. Emily is mine. Even if I discard her, she'll never be yours to touch," Lucas snapped. His words hung in the air, and the entire room fell silent as if frozen in time. Sophia stared at Lucas in disbelief, wondering where she stood in his life now that he had openly claimed Emily as his woman. All eyes in the room were drawn to the scene. Some watched with malicious delight, while others were simply captivated by the unfolding drama. Doubled over in pain, Sophia felt a warm wetness spreading beneath her. Her face paled as a cold dread gripped her heart. "Honey, my stomach hurts," she turned to Lucas instinctively. "Please, take me to the hospital." Without even glancing her way, Lucas removed his jacket and gently placed it around Emily's shoulders. Nestling into his embrace, Emily whispered, her voice trembling, "Lucas, I'm scared. Please take me away from here." "Don't worry," he murmured, holding her close. "I won't let anyone hurt you." Sweeping Emily into his arms, Lucas carried her out of the room, completely ignoring Sophia's pain-racked form shuddering on the floor. Perched comfortably on his shoulder, Emily gazed down at Sophia's crumpled form on the floor, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. The spectators murmured among themselves, still savoring the drama they'd just witnessed. "Emily's definitely the one for Lucas. He hasn't taken his eyes off her all night." "The way Lucas looks at her... I thought it was hatred, but it's clearly something else entirely." "Who could resist someone like her? I certainly wouldn't be able to stay angry." "Poor Sophia. She was just a side character in their love story." At the mention of Sophia's name, the crowd remembered her presence simultaneously, their attention shifting to where she sat. Sophia was in terrible pain and covered in a cold sweat until someone finally noticed her condition and quickly helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?" the guy asked. She gripped his arm tightly as the room spun around her. "Please take me to the hospital. My stomach hurts terribly," she pleaded. Then everything went dark as she fainted. Through the haze of semi-consciousness, distant screams about blood echoed in her ears. When Sophia regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital room. The sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the air as she lay alone in the quiet ward. A nurse tending to her bandages noticed her awakening. "You're awake," she said softly. Sophia's voice came out weak and fearful. "My baby... Is my baby alright?" "Your baby is fine," the nurse reassured her. "But you'll need to take special care. These first few months are particularly delicate in your condition." Relief washed over Sophia as grateful tears fell. "Thank you," she whispered, overwhelmed that her child was safe. Through the emotional turmoil, Sophia's first thought was to share the news with Lucas immediately. Wiping her tears, she reached for her phone and dialed his number. The phone rang several times before Lucas finally picked up. His voice was edged with impatience as he answered, "Not coming home tonight. Don't wait—" "Lucas, my hair's caught in this zipper," Emily's voice interrupted, floating through the line. "Could you give me a hand?" Sophia's knuckles went white around her phone. "Be right there," he said. The call ended before Sophia could form a response. Overnight, things between her and Lucas had reverted to how they were six months ago. Back then, he'd been all cold shoulders and sharp tones. Even in their most intimate moments, he treated her like just another need to be met. To him, she might as well have been a stranger—or worse, just a convenient body. So when he finally let his guard down, she'd been so grateful for the warmth that she fell harder than she ever meant to. She thought her years of longing had finally paid off. But reality slapped her senseless when Lucas chose Emily's safety over their own child's life. After being discharged from the hospital, Sophia caught a taxi home. Midway through the ride, her phone buzzed with a Twitter alert. It was a tweet from Emily: [You told me you'd hold my hand and never let go—not for the rest of our lives.] The attached photo showed Emily dressed like a princess, complete with a tiny crown, her hand locked tightly with a larger, elegant hand. Around the wrist was a bracelet made of prayer beads—the very one Sophia had prayed for in a church last year, when Lucas was burning up with fever. That day, he squeezed her hand and whispered a promise that he would never leave her side. Chapter 2 Ask Him For A Divorce The taxi stopped outside the Nightfall Estate, where Sophia paid the fare and got out of the vehicle. She was just heading inside when a truck carrying young cherry trees rumbled up the drive and stopped near the garden. Workers carefully unloaded the cherry trees and settled them into the prepared holes. Where a vibrant sea of red roses had bloomed just yesterday, now only upturned earth remained, with the plants piled carelessly to the side. A dull ache spread through Sophia's chest as she gazed at the rose petals strewn like crimson tears across the soil. The familiar purr of a luxury car engine approached from behind. Turning around, Sophia saw Lucas step out of the car. He stood tall and straight, radiating a natural air of calm elegance. "Honey..." Sophia began, but the words died on her lips as he leaned back into the car. With gentle care, he helped a woman step out—it was Emily, who looked radiant in an exquisite designer ensemble that made her complexion glow. Only when Emily was steady did Lucas's gaze finally meet Sophia's, those usually warm eyes now regarding her with detached indifference. "Did you need something?" he asked, his tone flat. The cold unfamiliarity in his look struck Sophia's heart like a physical blow. "Why are you tearing out the roses when they were growing so well?" she asked, desperate for his explanation. Those roses had been his special way of confessing his feelings to her. Lucas barely glanced at the destroyed garden. "Emily's not feeling well. She'll be staying with us for a bit." "What does that have to do with the roses?" she pressed. "She's allergic to the pollen," he said curtly, already turning to guide Emily inside. Sophia stood rooted to the spot, her heart breaking. Emily's delicate voice carried through the air. "Lucas, Sophia seems upset. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have complained about the roses." "She doesn't matter to me," Lucas reassured her. "But I worry she'll resent me. Really, I can manage with allergy medication," Emily offered, her voice dripping with false concern. "Medication always has side effects. Don't suggest things that worry me," he replied. Sophia stood motionless as she watched their figures grow smaller in the distance. A silent tear traced its way down her cheek while overwhelming sorrow washed over her. 'I don't matter to him... Yeah, right,' Sophia murmured with bitter irony, the truth of the words settling like a weight in her heart. He hadn't even asked about her absence last night, and now he had ordered her favorite roses to be torn out. The message was clear—she meant less to him than the slightest thought of Emily. For three years, she had devoted herself to him, offering unwavering love and comfort through difficult times. She had believed her constant warmth could thaw even the coldest heart, but Emily's reappearance had erased everything in an instant. She wondered what their intimacy these past six months had truly meant, and what role she had actually played in his life. A sudden twinge in her lower abdomen made her catch her breath. Pale and unsteady, she turned toward the villa. As Sophia stepped into the living room, she saw Emily nestled against Lucas on the sofa, watching with affectionate amusement as he peeled an orange for her. Lucas gently picked away every bit of white pith from the orange segments before arranging them on a plate for Emily. "For you," he said with a soft smile. "Enjoy, my little foodie." As Emily took the plate, she noticed Sophia entering the room. A triumphant smile graced her lips as she called out, "Sophia, would you like some? Lucas peeled these himself. Something you've never experienced, I'm sure." Sophia's gaze fell upon the perfectly prepared orange segments, and she felt a sudden sting behind her eyes. The painful truth was that in all their time together, Lucas had never once peeled an orange for her. She had always been the one serving him. The realization struck her with perfect clarity—Lucas knew well how to be thoughtful, but he simply reserved his kindness for Emily. Sophia felt her heart breaking into pieces as she finally understood how painful comparison could be. "She's perfectly capable of peeling her own fruit," Lucas said dismissively, barely glancing at Sophia. Then he noticed her pale complexion and added, "Are you alright? You look terribly pale." Sophia's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she debated telling Lucas her secret pregnancy. A fragile hope whispered within her—that this truth might finally soften his heart toward her. "I..." Her voice faltered, the words dying on her lips. "If you're ill, see a doctor. This pathetic act is getting tiresome," Lucas said, impatience flashing across his handsome features. He was annoyed by her wounded expression, which seemed to suggest she was the victim of some terrible injustice. Sophia swallowed her unspoken words, her gaze lingering on the man who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. "I'm fine," she murmured. "I'll just go to my room." As she turned toward the staircase, Lucas felt a surge of irritation. 'I must've been too lenient with her, and now she dared to show me attitude,' he thought, fuming. Sophia had only climbed a few steps when the housekeeper, Wendy, appeared descending the stairs with servants carrying boxes. The items looked familiar, but it was the sight of her stuffed doll in Wendy's arms that made Sophia realize everything they carried was hers. In a swift motion, she stepped forward and snatched the doll. Her voice turned icy as she asked, "Wendy, care to explain this?" "Mr. Westwood's orders," Wendy said quietly. "You're to move to the storage room downstairs." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, leaving her mind reeling. She turned to Lucas, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious." They'd already maintained separate bedrooms, but she never imagined that she'd be banished to a storage room instead of even being offered the guest suite after Emily's return. For a fleeting moment under her gaze, Lucas felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly hardened into resolve. "Emily needs the sunroom for her health," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your room gets the best light. It's better for her recovery." The absurdity of it all drew a bitter laugh from Sophia's lips. She thought his previous cruelty—shoving her while pregnant and replacing her roses with Emily's cherry trees—had been the worst it could get. But this new humiliation surpassed even that. All Lucas had done since Emily's return yesterday was talk about her. In just one day, she had turned Sophia's whole life upside down. Sophia expected to feel rage, but instead found only a hollow emptiness settling in her chest. 'Look at him, Sophia,' Sophia thought bitterly. 'This is the man you gave your heart and soul to. Was any of it worth it?' "If you're so worried about her comfort, why not just move her into your room? The master suite gets the best light anyway," Sophia shot back. Lucas responded sharply, "Sophia, you need to watch your tone." Emily's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I know you don't want me here, Sophia. I'll go. Please don't fight with Lucas over me." Sophia saw right through Emily's act. A humorless laugh escaped her as she spat, "You're not going anywhere. I am." Tightening her grip on the stuffed doll, she turned and headed for the door. "Don't you dare, Sophia." Lucas rose to his feet, his voice cutting through the room. "Walk out that door now, and don't expect to ever come back." Sophia's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "I'll make sure you receive the divorce papers," she said, her voice cold and steady. "See that you sign them." "You're asking me for a divorce?" Lucas's voice was low, thick with barely restrained fury. He added, his tone edged with contempt, "Have you forgotten who gave you this life, Sophia? The luxury, the status—all of it came from me. Without my name, you're just that wide-eyed girl fresh off that forgotten little town. You don't get to leave." Chapter 3 The Replaced Medical Result Sophia didn't need to look back to know the condescending smirk that was surely on Lucas's face. She knew he had always despised her. His proposal three years ago had been motivated only by a desire to fulfill the marriage agreement between their families and to exact revenge on Emily. She had been naive enough to believe his empty promises, offering him her genuine love when he saw her as nothing more than a pawn. To him, she would always be a leech, clinging to his wealth and name for survival. But now, she had reached her limit, and she no longer wanted him in her life. Sophia walked out without a backward glance. As she stepped through the gateway, the sound of shattering porcelain echoed behind her, but she no longer cared. Lucas stood amid the shattered remains, fingers pressed to his temples. His face was a mask of simmering anger. He dismissed the mention of divorce as just another one of her calculated moves, a transparent attempt to get his attention by pulling away. Emily watched him hesitantly. "Maybe I shouldn't be staying here, Lucas. Sophia seemed really upset." "It's nothing," Lucas replied evenly. Seeing how the mention of divorce had affected him, she suggested softly, "You could go after her. Women usually respond well to a little reassurance." "I don't have time for that," Lucas said, turning toward the staircase. With a business trip looming, his mind was elsewhere. 'Let her make a scene if she wants to,' he thought. 'She'll cool off and come crawling back. She always does.' ***** Sophia's home was a beautiful 3,200-square-foot apartment with an open-concept layout and sleek modern decor—all paid for with her own earnings. In her study, she printed the divorce papers and a letter resigning from her position. With a steady hand, she signed both, and then summoned a courier to deliver them directly to the Westwood Group. When she married Lucas three years ago, Sophia had joined his company, hoping to build a genuine connection with him. She started at the very bottom as an assistant and gradually earned her way up to department manager. She had wanted nothing more than to be close to him—in their home and at work. But in the end, her efforts were met with cold indifference. Gazing downward, Sophia softly cradled her stomach. "It's just us now, little one," she whispered. The courier arrived at Westwood headquarters while Lucas was away. His chief executive assistant, Kevin Chapman, received the delivery and signed. The moment Kevin saw the contents, he reached for the phone, dialing Lucas's number in haste. "Mr. Westwood, your wife has sent divorce documents." "Burn it all." On the other side of the ocean, Lucas loosened his tie as an unexpected wave of irritation came over him. "But Mrs. Westwood has even submitted her resignation letter..." Kevin replied, his tone hesitant. "She can't survive without this family." The blue flame from Lucas's lighter highlighted the grim set of his features. "Let her be. She'll come crawling back once reality sets in." Meanwhile, Sophia remained completely unaware of his words. Her morning had begun with a call from her mother-in-law, Helen Westwood. "Where are you? Return at once," Helen commanded in her typically imperious manner, leaving no room for discussion. Complying, Sophia drove back to the estate. No sooner had she stepped inside than a velvet box came hurling toward her head, which she narrowly avoided by stepping aside. Helen's shrill voice pierced the air. "How dare you avoid that? You've got some nerve." Sophia's gaze fell upon the velvet box at her feet, and suddenly, she understood why it seemed familiar. She remembered purchasing that exact box to store her pregnancy test results. On Lucas's birthday, she had intended to present it to him as a gift, but he had accidentally pushed her before she could give it to him, resulting in her hospitalization. Her heart leaped as she turned to face Helen's livid expression. 'Could she know about the pregnancy? But something about her reaction seems strange,' she wondered. For three years, Helen had made no secret of her disapproval of Sophia, someone raised in a small town. Yet every time Sophia visited the Westwood residence with Lucas, Helen would consistently nag Sophia about starting a family soon. If Helen knew Sophia was pregnant, she was supposed to be absolutely delighted instead of reacting like this. Helen clutched a medical report, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared down Sophia. "For three years, I've watched your marriage to Lucas, wondering why you never conceived. Now I understand—he married a barren woman. "If you hadn't left this at the hotel and Lucas's friend hadn't been kind enough to deliver it, I'd still be in the dark about your condition." Heart pounding with shock, Sophia ignored Helen's murderous gaze and snatched the document from her hand. The clinical report lay cold and pale in the morning light. There was her name, clearly printed, alongside the devastating diagnosis: "permanent infertility." 'Permanent infertility? But that's impossible. I'm pregnant. Someone must have switched my test results. But who would do such a thing?' Sophia wondered. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "This isn't my..." Emily, who had remained silent until now, suddenly interrupted, "Sophia, the Westwood lineage has been passed down through a single heir for ten generations. Are you trying to ensure Lucas dies without an heir? To extinguish the family line completely?" "How utterly heartless!" Helen exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Sophia as her anger reached its peak. "We've welcomed you with open arms since you married into this family. Yet you've been hiding this from us? To think you'd let our family line die out—it's truly despicable!" she added. Sophia didn't even attempt to explain herself. If they wanted to believe she was barren, so be it—it would only simplify the divorce proceedings. "I only received the results two days ago. I hadn't found the right moment to share the news," Sophia replied, her voice calm. "This wasn't about finding the right moment. You did this intentionally," Helen retorted, her face contorted with rage. "And you planned to give this to Lucas as a gift? What kind of twisted mind would conceive such a thing?" Sophia maintained her silence. Helen took a measured breath, forcing her anger down. "If you can't conceive naturally, I won't hold it against you. I've spoken with Emily, and she's agreed to donate her eggs so you and Lucas can pursue in vitro fertilization." Sophia stared in disbelief at the unexpected turn. "Could you repeat that?" She believed she had misheard because the suggestion was both preposterous and deeply offensive. "If you can't conceive, that's your problem. Emily is being extraordinarily generous by offering her eggs. The least you could do is show some appreciation instead of this ingratitude," Helen sneered. A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. "Perhaps you'd like to accept this generous offer yourself?" "How dare you speak to me like that!" Helen's eyes flashed with fury. "Sophia, you shouldn't speak to Mrs. Westwood that way. She was suggesting that for your sake," Emily said in a honeyed tone, reaching for the glass. As she moved, she made certain to display the prayer beads circling her delicate wrist. Sophia's breath caught—she would recognize the bracelet anywhere. That was the very ones she had sacrificed so much to obtain while praying for Lucas's recovery. It felt like a personal insult, seeing the bracelet that symbolized her love for Lucas now clasped around Emily's wrist. "For my sake?" Sophia repeated, the words tasting bitter as she caught the sly glint of satisfaction in Emily's eyes. It sent a sharp ache through her. She knew this game all too well. Emily had a gift for twisting people's vulnerabilities to her advantage, a lesson Sophia had learned the hard way three years ago. "I'm infertile. What possible use could I have for your eggs?" Sophia asked, her voice cold. "Do you really think I need a constant reminder of what I can't have?" Emily's smile vanished. For Helen's benefit, she bit her lip, her eyes instantly welling with feigned hurt. "Mrs. Westwood," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "I was only trying to help Sophia." Helen immediately comforted Emily by patting her hand. She then shot Sophia a disapproving look. "How can you be so selfish, Sophia? Are you really determined to let the Westwood family line die out?" Sophia gestured dismissively toward Emily. "Well, if she's so fertile, let her handle the baby-making." The thought of Emily getting to be a mother the easy way turned Sophia's stomach. Chapter 4 Take Back Her Things The color drained from both Helen's and Emily's faces. Helen stepped forward, jabbing a finger toward Sophia. "You think you're better than us? Then you give the Westwood family an heir. Don't blame anyone else for your own useless womb." Sophia bit back the sharp retort on her tongue. She was done with this family, done with Lucas. Arguing now would only prolong the inevitable. "Mrs. Westwood," she began, "I've decided—" Lucas's familiar, deep voice cut through the tension from the doorway. "Decided what?" Sophia turned to see Lucas standing there, his clothes rumpled from travel. His assistant, Kevin, hovered behind him with a suitcase in hand. The air in the room was thick with tension, so Kevin knew better than to stay. He simply left the suitcase by the door and made a quick exit. Loosening his tie, Lucas turned to Helen. "Mom, what brings you here?" "If I hadn't come, you'd have let our family name die out," Helen shot back. She then snatched the medical report from Sophia and flung it at Lucas's chest. "See for yourself," she said coldly, and with that, she swept out of the room. Lucas looked down at the document in his hands, and the words "permanent infertility" caused a faint twitch in his brow. His eyes, when they finally lifted to meet Sophia's, were devoid of warmth. "You'll go back to the hospital tomorrow for a full work-up. I will not have a wife who can't give me an heir." A hollow ache spread through Sophia's chest. Any foolish hope she'd been clinging to finally faded. Lucas had never defended her in three years of his mother's constant belittlement. And now, the ease with which he believed this lie revealed the chilling truth of his character. "I have the divorce papers right here," Sophia said, pulling the documents from her bag. She extended them toward him, her voice steady. "Just sign them, and you'll never have to see me again." Lucas didn't even look at the papers. In one swift motion, his hand closed around her throat, pulling her close. He leaned in until his face was mere inches from hers, and she could feel his warm breath and smell the familiar scent of his cologne. There was a time when this closeness would have made her heart flutter. Now, it only made her skin crawl. It was amazing how easy it was to walk away when all the love had drained away. "Sophia, have I been too soft with you?" Lucas's voice was thick with contempt. "Where exactly do you think you'll go without my protection?" She held his gaze without flinching. "That's really none of your concern anymore." "Still got that sharp tongue," he sneered. He released her with a dismissive shove, as if her defiance meant nothing. "Go make me dinner. I'm hungry." A wave of pain shot through Sophia's lower abdomen as she sank into the sofa, her skin turning clammy with an instant, cold sweat. Across the room, Emily slid her arm through Lucas's with practiced ease. "Don't let Sophia bother you," she murmured. "Her little scene was just a cry for your attention." Lucas pulled his tie free, his stern expression melting away as he focused on Emily. "How are you holding up?" he asked, his tone gentler. "I'm fine," she sighed, putting on a pitiful face. "It's just that the medicine is so awfully bitter." "It's bitter because it's strong. You need to keep taking it," he reminded her. "I picked up those candies you like. They're in my suitcase. Go get them yourself." "I know you always look out for me," Emily said, stretching up to press a light kiss to Lucas's cheek. "Consider that your reward." A look of quiet satisfaction crossed his features at the gesture. "I'm going up to shower," he said. "Go ahead," Emily said sweetly, fluttering a wave at him. She waited until Lucas's footsteps faded up the staircase before turning to the suitcase. They carried on as if Sophia weren't standing right there in the same room. Humming cheerfully, Emily unzipped the luggage. Alongside Lucas's neatly folded clothes sat a jar of shimmering candies and an elegant red velvet box that clearly held something valuable. Her eyes skipped over the candy, going straight to the velvet box. When she lifted the lid, a pink diamond necklace lay gleaming, its facets scattering rainbows in the light. "Oh, it's exquisite. I love it," she whispered, her eyes widening. "So the candy was just a decoy. This necklace is what he really wanted me to find." Draping the necklace against her collarbone, Emily turned to face Sophia, who had risen from the sofa. "Well, Sophia? Don't you think it suits me perfectly?" The pink diamond necklace around Emily's neck struck Sophia as oddly familiar. It came to her a moment later—she had coveted it last month while flipping through a magazine. Lucas had seen her fascination and promised to get it for her. The catch was its exclusivity—a single piece, sourced from Melaria, the country where Lucas had been attending to business. "That was for me," Sophia said, her voice calm. The man was disposable, but her possessions were not. She would reclaim what was rightfully hers. With a swift motion, Emily clasped the necklace. "Finders keepers," she said with a mocking grin. Sophia approached for a closer look. Though the necklace was more exquisite than its photograph, any desire for it had vanished. A wary look crossed Emily's face. "What is this about?" "To take what belongs to me, of course," Sophia said, stepping close and extending her hand. "It's time you returned it." Emily's hands instinctively flew to the diamond necklace at her throat. "Lucas will never stand for this, Sophia. You know what I mean to him." Sophia almost laughed. She knew well that Emily held a special place in Lucas's heart. But that was irrelevant. She was only claiming what was hers. "Give the bracelet back to me," Sophia said coldly. It was a token earned through true devotion, and she wouldn't let its significance be tarnished. Realizing Sophia only wanted the simple bracelet, Emily smiled condescendingly. 'Some shortsighted people have no taste,' she thought. Emily twisted the bracelet around her wrist. "I heard you went to Grace Abbey to beg for this good-luck charm," she said. "You are so hung up on him, aren't you?" The hypocrisy of her words was almost laughable. "Give it back," Sophia said, her voice like ice. Emily's eyes flickered to a point behind Sophia, and a sly smile touched her lips. She lowered her voice. "If you want it so badly, why don't you come and take it?" Sophia didn't stop to think. She grabbed Emily's wrist and tugged the bracelet free. The moment it was off, Emily's demeanor shifted completely. "Sophia, what are you doing?" she cried out, her voice suddenly loud and panicked. "Lucas gave this to me." Before Sophia could even turn around, a powerful hand seized her by the collar and hauled her backwards. The fabric dug sharply into her throat, stealing her breath. Stumbling to regain her footing, Sophia looked up to see Lucas. He was already cradling Emily. "Emily, are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern. Emily buried her face in his chest. "I'm fine," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Please, don't be angry with Sophia. She didn't mean it." Lucas's jaw tightened, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. He took a deep breath and fixed Sophia with an icy stare. "Apologize to Emily." Chapter 5 She Wants A Clean Break A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. She had fooled herself into thinking she was numb to Lucas's coldness. But his command still sent a fresh, sharp pain through her chest. She knew there was no point arguing with a man who had already chosen the other woman's side. "I won't apologize," Sophia said, her fist closing tightly around the bracelet. "What for?" Emily looked up at Lucas with well-practiced vulnerability. "I'm causing trouble here, Lucas. I should go." Lucas caught her wrist before she could take a second step. "You're staying right here." His attention snapped back to Sophia, his expression darkening. "Now, Sophia, apologize to Emily." The room blurred as tears filled Sophia's eyes, twisting his familiar face into a stranger's. She lifted the simple bracelet between them. "This is my stuff in the first place. Since when is taking back what was stolen a crime?" "Your stuff? Since when do you have anything of your own?" Lucas's lips curled in a sneer. "I've paid for every stitch of clothing on your back." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, forcing a bitter laugh from her lips. He knew perfectly well she earned her own living, yet he took every opportunity to demean her. "This bracelet came from Grace Abbey," she countered, her voice trembling. "You didn't pay a cent for it." Lucas's eyes dropped to the simple beads in her palm. "You think I care about some cheap bracelet?" he scoffed. Hot tears streamed down Sophia's face without warning. Wiping them away, Sophia made a silent vow—this would be the last time he reduced her to this. "Fine!" With one sharp motion, she snapped the bracelet's cord, sending beads skittering across the floor. Lucas watched the scattered beads come to rest, his hand curling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. He knew how much that bracelet meant to her, but the moment Emily wanted it, he didn't hesitate to take it off and hand it over. Lucas's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "Sophia!" "I want a divorce," Sophia said, her voice eerily calm. As she opened her hand, the last bead from the bracelet clattered onto the floor between them. "Let's just end this." The sound was small, but in the tense silence, it was deafening, echoing in Lucas's mind. He let out a short laugh, his gaze locked on her. "You think a threat will work? You should know better than that by now." 'This has to be a ploy,' he thought to himself. 'She loves me too much to go through with it. She has accepted her role as Emily's replacement from the beginning and has never once tried to leave. 'She would never have the strength to walk away from me.' "Go make us something to eat, and we can forget this ever happened." Lucas was certain he had thrown Sophia a lifeline. He waited, fully expecting her to be overcome with relief and scurry off to the kitchen. He'd been away on business, and days of unfamiliar rich food had left his stomach unsettled. What he craved was Sophia's cooking—simple, hearty food that tasted like home. It was a flavor he couldn't find anywhere else. "You can go eat your ass," Sophia shot back. She picked up her bag, her lips twisting into a scornful smile, and walked out without a backward glance. That smile grated on Lucas's nerves more than the insult itself. In his frustration, his eyes fell on the string of prayer beads lying scattered on the floor, and he gave them an impatient kick. 'So that's her game. She wants to challenge me? I'd like to see just how long her resolve will hold,' he thought, fuming. ***** Sophia sped away from Nightfall Estate, her phone buzzing relentlessly on the passenger seat. Lucas's name flashed across the screen again and again until she finally grabbed it and blocked his number for good. When she looked up at the road, she blinked, her vision blurring for a moment. She braced for the familiar sting of tears, but when her fingers touched her skin, it was dry. It was only then that she noticed the soft patter against the windshield. A fine drizzle had begun to fall, and a quiet melancholy settled over her, as gray as the sky. Up ahead, the flickering hazard lights of a sleek black car broke the rhythm of the rain. A man in a soaked suit, looking to be in his forties, stood beside it, waving frantically at passing traffic. Almost without conscious thought, Sophia found herself flipping on her turn signal and pulling over. She rolled down her window as the man rushed over. "Everything okay?" she asked. "It's my boss," the man said, his voice tight with panic. "He's having a heart attack. The ambulance is stuck in a multi-car accident. Please, can you take us to the hospital?" Sophia hesitated. Letting two strange men into her car, especially in this weather, felt dangerous. Every cautionary tale she'd ever heard flashed through her mind. Seeing her hesitation, the man added urgently, "I promise we're not dangerous. My boss is—" But Sophia was already moving, cutting the engine and stepping out into the downpour. "Just get him to my car, now," she called out as she rushed toward their vehicle. As she got closer, she recognized the distinctive emblem of the black Maybach. Working together, they carefully transferred the elderly man from the luxury sedan into Sophia's more modest car. The old man's lips were tinged with blue, and each ragged breath seemed like a struggle, clear signs of his critical condition. Sliding behind the wheel, Sophia started the car and pulled back onto the road, pushing through the veils of rain. In the backseat, the middle-aged man was a whirlwind of activity on his phone, coordinating with a hospital and alerting the family. Beyond the windows, the storm seemed to intensify, as if trying to match the urgency inside the car. After ensuring everything was in place, the man turned to Sophia with heartfelt appreciation. "You're the only one who stopped in this downpour. We can't thank you enough." A warm smile touched Sophia's lips. "Some things are just meant to be." ***** Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital entrance where medical staff stood ready. The team swiftly transferred the elderly man to a stretcher and hurried him inside for emergency care. Just as Sophia was about to drive away, she spotted a lone leather shoe in the backseat—the one the elderly man had been wearing. After a moment's hesitation, she parked properly and carried the shoe to the reception desk, logging it as a lost item. Sophia was just turning to leave when a group emerged from the hospital's main entrance. At the front of the group was a man whose height and posture commanded attention. He turned his sharp gaze on her, and the intensity in his eyes was so commanding that it felt like a physical pressure. 'That frown means trouble,' Sophia thought. She averted her gaze and continued walking, brushing past the group without a second look. It wasn't until she was back in the driver's seat that she felt the chill of her wet clothes clinging to her skin. As she dried her hair with a towel from the backseat, a notification popped up on her phone while she was opening the navigation app. It was a post from Emily: [Nothing says 'forever' like a soft-boiled egg made with love! My ultimate comfort food.] The post featured two photos—one showed a soft-boiled egg with a ketchup heart, and the other captured a tall man's back as he stood at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Sophia couldn't help but compare. When she was with Lucas, he had acted like even pouring her a glass of water was a significant concession. Cooking a meal was utterly out of the question. The fact that he was now cooking for Emily spoke volumes about where his true affections lay. She closed the page and entered her apartment address into the navigation system before driving out of the parking lot. As she watched the heavy rain outside, a single decisive thought crystallized in her mind—this marriage was over. Chapter 6 Return The Trash To The Dumpster That evening, a text came through from Annabelle Quinn, Sophia's best friend since college, insisting they go out to a lounge. The old Sophia would have declined immediately, conditioned to obey Lucas's rule about her not going out. But now that Sophia was divorcing him, his opinions held no weight. ***** The moment Sophia stepped out of the car, she saw Annabelle waiting by the entrance. "Hope you haven't been waiting long," she said as she approached. "Just got here," Annabelle grinned, looping her arm through Sophia's. "So, what's the special occasion? Did you finally get a night off from your sweetheart?" Sophia struggled to find the words, but she couldn't keep it from her best friend. "I'm getting a divorce," she finally said. "Let me guess," Annabelle said, not one to mince words in front of her best friend. "This is about Emily being back, isn't it?" "It's not just that," Sophia admitted, her voice quiet. It just took seeing the difference for herself to truly see how little her three years of effort had meant. Annabelle threw a supportive arm around Sophia's shoulders. "You should have woken up to this a long time ago." For three years, she had watched Sophia lose herself in a hollow relationship, and it killed Annabelle to see her friend throw everything away for a man who never appreciated her. "Better late than never," Sophia offered with a weak smile. "Damn right it is," Annabelle declared. "Tonight, I'm getting us the best male models in town. You deserve some real attention." They ascended into the pulsating heart of the club, pushing through the glittering crowd toward the exclusive booth Annabelle had booked. As they moved past the entrance to a private booth, a burst of laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway. Amid the noise, Sophia's own name caught her sharp ear. "Got to hand it to Lucas. The minute Emily was back, he moved her right in. Word is, he showed Sophia the door." "Well, she had it coming. Play the simp, and you lose it all. Seriously though, that night in the booth with all the blood? I truly thought a tragedy had occurred, but it was probably just her period." "You're thinking about that? Man, have you had a thing for Sophia all along?" "Who'd pine after some nobody from a backwater? Only Lucas, with his unique preferences, would stick around for three years." "Guess the novelty wore off. Time for a change." Standing in the hallway, Sophia felt a cold stillness settle behind her eyes. The voices clicked into place—Lucas's oldest friends. They had been there that night, spectators to her most shameful moment. Annabelle's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind." But as she moved toward the door, Sophia stopped her with a gentle hand. "This is my battle to fight," Sophia said firmly. With that, Sophia pushed the door open and swept into the room. She settled gracefully onto the sofa, joining their conversation with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you're talking about unique preferences, I top him," she began, her voice deceptively light, "I recycled what Emily threw away. But it looks like I did everyone a favor by returning the trash to the dumpster where it belongs." A stunned silence fell over the room. Every face on the circular sofa stared at her in horrified fascination. Unbeknownst to Sophia, two figures had entered the room behind her during her speech. The guests' eyes darted nervously between Sophia and the newcomers, the air thickening with tension. There stood Lucas and Emily, their expressions dark as storm clouds. Their presence made Sophia turn. Her eyes instantly met the cold, dark stare of Lucas. But she didn't back down. A defiant shrug lifted her shoulders. "Look what the cat dragged in. My trash husband." Emily's eyes instantly glistened with tears. "Sophia, ignore them," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "It's all lies. Lucas and I are just friends." As if to prove her point, she clutched Lucas's arm. "Tell her, Lucas. Make her understand there's nothing going on between us." Sophia's gaze dropped to the hand clinging to Lucas's arm, and a faint, derisive smile touched her mouth. 'Just friends? Did she really expect anyone to believe that?' she thought bitterly. Lucas detached himself from Emily's grip and closed the distance between him and Sophia. The motion broke the tension, stirring his friends into action. "Hey, Lucas, take it easy," one of them said, stepping forward. "She's just reacting to our stupid jokes." "Come on, Sophia, just say you're sorry to Lucas," another one urged. "You know he'll forgive you." The suggestion made Sophia want to laugh bitterly. 'Is this really how they see me? As some lovesick fool who'd come crawling back at the first sign of forgiveness?' she thought. It explained everything—why, for three years, they had shown her phony respect as Lucas's wife while mocking her devotion in private. She had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn't met Lucas seven years ago, if that fateful incident hadn't tied her to him, she would have moved on with her life long ago. "Are you quite done?" Lucas's voice cut through her thoughts as he reached for her arm. She shifted her weight gracefully, letting his hand close on empty air. The rejected gesture hung between them for a beat too long before he withdrew, his features tightening with displeasure. Turning to Emily, who was now dabbing at her eyes, Sophia arched a brow. "There's no need for the waterworks. You're making it look like I'm the one being cruel here." "Sophia, I've treated you like my elder sister. I—" Emily began, trying to defend herself. "Don't," Sophia interrupted, her voice cool. "We arrived minutes apart, and you were first. Let's skip the emotional act." Emily's face turned from pale to deep red as she clenched her jaw in fury. 'Since when has Sophia found this kind of nerve? She used to shrink into silence whenever Lucas was near,' she thought. Despite her three-year absence from the city, Emily had ensured she received every scrap of information about Sophia's life. She knew all about Sophia's pathetic attempts to please Lucas, and she knew exactly how little he cared for his wife. She even knew they kept separate bedrooms, and that on the occasional night Lucas spent with Sophia, he always sent her back to her own room afterward. She knew that to Lucas, Sophia was just a body—convenient, disposable, and utterly unimportant. With a dark expression, Lucas grabbed Sophia's wrist and began pulling her toward the exit. Sophia's answer was a sharp, stinging slap across his cheek. The sound cracked through the air, and a dead silence fell over the room. All eyes were fixed on Sophia in pure shock. Everyone was wondering if she had lost her mind to dare something like that. Lucas slowly worked his jaw, the look in his eyes so dark that it promised retribution. When Sophia resisted, Lucas didn't hesitate. He swept her up onto his shoulder and carried her out of the room. The sight made Emily's heart clench. She'd never seen Lucas be so patient with anyone. Before she knew it, her hand was on his arm. "Lucas..." He didn't turn his head, but some of the tension left his expression. "I'm taking her home," he said firmly. "The driver will return for you when you're ready." Emily could only watch as Lucas walked away with Sophia. She had no right to stop him, but it stung—this was the first time he'd ever left her for another woman, especially one who meant nothing. Her hands tightened at her sides. 'I gave you a chance to walk away quietly, Sophia. You brought this on yourself,' she thought. Sophia's protests echoed down the hallway as she struggled against Lucas's hold. Unsure what was happening between the couple, Annabelle turned away, pretending she hadn't noticed them. Lucas carried Sophia into the elevator and stepped out briskly when it reached the basement level. As the car door opened, Lucas tossed Sophia into the back seat. Struggling upright, she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea from the prolonged time she'd spent upside down. She opened her mouth to curse, but the words died on her lips as the tinted window of a nearby Maybach began to descend. In the shadowy interior, the man's profile was sharp and forbidding. His lips were set in a firm line, and he sat with the imposing stillness of an iceberg, his presence pushing others away. Sensing her gaze, he glanced over, and their eyes locked. Without a word, Sophia averted her gaze and hid her face behind a veil of tangled hair. Chapter 7 Not Her Home Anymore Lucas's black Bentley pulled out of the underground parking garage, but Sophia was still lost in thought about those intense eyes. There was something familiar about them, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen them before. Lucas's voice broke the silence. "Did you follow me here? What are you so concerned about?" "What?" Sophia asked, snapping back to reality. Keeping his eyes on the road, Lucas tried to explain. "You know how my friends are—they never think before they speak. Don't take their words seriously. There's nothing going on between Emily and me." 'If there's really nothing between them, why was he being so protective? He only rushed me out because he was worried I might cause a scene and embarrass Emily,' Sophia thought. "Sure," Sophia said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You and Emily are completely innocent." "I'm trying to explain myself here," Lucas said, his patience wearing thin. "Do you have to be so sarcastic?" Her ungrateful attitude was beginning to irritate him. He remembered how she used to soften at the slightest reassurance. Now, it seemed her patience had worn thin. "Understood," Sophia said, her tone flat. "Is that all?" "I've been clear from the beginning—you are my wife, and that won't change. But if you want this marriage to work, you need to drop your little tricks. I won't play these games." Sophia stayed quiet, struck by his assumption that her mention of divorce was merely a plea for attention. Her silence tightened the air between them. "Don't become someone I resent, Sophia," he said with a frown, his voice low. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips as she turned toward the window, shutting him out completely. Sensing he had pushed too far, Lucas eased his tone. "I had your things moved back to our room. If you want to stay with me, just say so. There's no need for all this." Sophia was left speechless. ***** As the car came to a stop in the courtyard of Nightfall Estate, Sophia stepped out. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the cherry blossom grove in the garden. The sight sent a sharp pang through her chest. She forced her gaze away and continued into the villa. Inside, the decor had been completely redone. The new style, with its unmistakable resemblance to the Evans residence, clearly revealed who had overseen the renovations. She moved through rooms that felt entirely alien to her now, but she kept her thoughts to herself since this was no longer her home. Wendy looked surprised when she saw Sophia. "Mrs. Westwood, you've returned. Have you had your supper?" Sinking into the plush pink sofa, Sophia answered quietly, "Yes, thank you." Wendy offered a tight smile before retreating to her quarters to make a hurried phone call to Helen, reporting the unexpected arrival. Helen had never approved of Sophia, whom she saw as a plain nobody not good enough for her son. The infertility diagnosis hardened Helen's resolve to rush the divorce so Lucas could marry someone worthy of giving her grandchildren. The news of Sophia's sudden return after her dramatic departure kept Helen tossing and turning all night. Lucas had been certain Sophia would confront him about the complete makeover of their home. He stood ready to smooth things over, but she walked through the rooms without comment, her silence leaving him more unsettled than any argument would have. "If the decor isn't to your taste..." Lucas moved to sit beside her, his arms beginning to encircle her. Sophia reached for a throw pillow, tucking it between them as she shifted away from his embrace. The gentle rejection stung, though Lucas reassured himself that this was the same woman who had always adored him. "It's true. I prefer my original choices," she said calmly. "Can you have everything returned to how it was?" The warm, elegant furnishings had vanished, replaced by the overwhelming pinks that Emily favored—a transformation that had turned their home into something resembling a kitschy boutique hotel. Lucas shifted uncomfortably. "Let's not make a big deal out of it. You'll get used to the way things are around here." A faint, knowing smile curved on Sophia's lips as she met his gaze. That smile never failed to get under his skin. "Try to see it from her perspective, Sophia," he said, his voice tightening. "After everything she's been through these past three years, all Emily wants is to feel like she belongs." A wave of exhaustion washed over her. It was like talking to a brick wall. "I know," she said flatly. "You have your entire family backing you up," Lucas shot back, his patience clearly wearing thin. "But Emily? She has nobody else. Is it really so hard for you to be a little more compassionate?" "Funny," Sophia replied, her tone icy. "I was under the impression my adoptive parents were still very much alive." Besides, the Evans family had never once ceased to think about Emily throughout those three years. They made trip after trip to Felarica to celebrate Emily's birthdays and attend her parties. They even missed Sophia's wedding to Lucas because of her. A single social media post from Emily, complaining of her loneliness in Felarica, was all it took for them to drop everything and fly to her side. "Now that you've made it out of that dead-end town, you should be the last person to let Emily sink into it," he shot back. As Sophia looked at him, the last glimmer of hope in her eyes vanished. She knew well enough to stop mentioning divorce. To Lucas, it was just another act—proof that she was the same desperate woman the world thought her to be. If she couldn't get through to Lucas, she was going to find another path. Now, with her infertility diagnosis, she knew Helen would be far more impatient to act on this news. Sophia retreated to the master bedroom. Her possessions had claimed their space, with her clothes occupying half of the vast closet. A sense of normalcy had finally settled between her and Lucas, the kind that belongs to a husband and wife. But it was a fragile peace, already beginning to fray. Lucas was still in the living room when Emily returned. The air around her carried the sharp tang of liquor. Her face was deeply flushed, and she swayed slightly as she walked. He was at her side in an instant, his hand gently steadying her. "You've had far too much to drink," he murmured, his brow furrowed with worry. "This isn't good for you. I don't want to see you like this again." Emily turned into him, her arms finding their way around his neck. "I couldn't help it," she whispered, her voice thick with drink and emotion. "It's the only thing that dulls the ache." Sensing her legs might give way, he simply gathered her into his arms. "Wendy," he said to the housekeeper who had appeared, heading for the stairs. "Would you bring up some electrolyte water for Emily?" "Understood," Wendy replied. Playing the part of the drunken mess, Emily clung to Lucas and sobbed into his chest. "I've always regretted it," she cried. "Letting my pride push you away was the biggest mistake of my life." A long-buried tenderness tugged at Lucas's heart. "Let's try again, Lucas. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice," she whispered, tilting her face up to his. Just as their lips were about to meet, the master bedroom door swung open, and the sudden movement startled the couple in the hallway. Sophia stood in the doorway in her pajamas, watching them with a completely expressionless face. Lucas instantly snapped back to reality, and a rare look of panic flashed across his handsome face. "Sophie, Emily is drunk," he said quickly. "I'm just taking her back to her room." Still draped around him, Emily met Sophia's eyes over Lucas's shoulder. The tears were gone, replaced by a cool, triumphant smirk that held no trace of intoxication. Sophia's mouth curved into a humorless smile as she replied, "Yes, and you're drunk too." Without another word, she stepped back and slammed the door, the turn of the lock echoing decisively behind her. The idea of sleeping next to Lucas made her blood boil. She honestly didn't trust herself to lie beside him all night without her rage getting the better of her. Chapter 8 Divorce Settlement The next morning, as Sophia left her room, the guest room door across the hall opened at the exact same time. Lucas was stepping out, finishing with his tie. He glanced up and went completely still, finding Sophia already watching him from their bedroom doorway. Surprise flashed across his face, and he started with an explanation. "She was a mess last night," he said, his voice low. "I couldn't just leave her." Sophia's eyes dropped to the bright red smudge on his collar. Her eyes were filled with silent scorn as she thought about how filthy it was. She said with icy calm, "Relax, I know perfectly well that nothing would ever happen between you two, even when you don't have a stitch of clothing on." Her words cut off whatever excuse Lucas was about to offer. Anger darkened his features. "Think what you want," he snapped. "My feelings for her are purely brotherly." Sophia's eyes fell to the lipstick stain on his collar again. "So, how does it feel to be so close to your 'sister'?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Following her line of sight, Lucas saw the evidence, and a shadow of guilt crossed his face. "It was an accident," he insisted, his voice tight. "Don't make it sound so sordid." "So filthy," she murmured, shaking her head. As he drew a sharp breath to retaliate, she added with a cold smile, "I mean your shirt." He stared at her, his expression turning to stone. She merely offered a careless shrug and walked away, leaving him fuming in the hallway. Downstairs, Sophia was halfway through her breakfast when her phone vibrated on the table. A quick glance at the screen confirmed it was Helen calling. Just then, Wendy appeared with two additional breakfast plates. Sophia swiped to answer the call, a deliberate smile directed at Wendy. "You're calling so early, Mrs. Westwood." The pointed smile made Wendy's blood run cold, and at the mention of Mrs. Westwood, she was reminded of betraying Sophia by reporting to Helen last night. Stricken with guilt, she almost fumbled the tray. She dropped the plates onto the table and hastily retreated to the safety of the kitchen. A faint, cold smile touched Sophia's lips as Helen's venomous voice filled her ear. "Utterly devoid of manners," Helen sneered. "What else can you expect from someone with such a common background?" Sophia's eyes turned to ice. "Trace any lineage back three generations, Mrs. Westwood, and you'll find humble roots. It's distasteful to scorn your own origins." Helen found herself at a loss for words. Though Lucas's parents both had city roots, his grandparents' generation had all struggled in a backwater. Helen's parents had even lived in a cowshed. So in that regard, Helen was no better than Sophia. "That sharp tongue of yours is exactly why people can't stand you," Helen shot back. Sophia rolled her eyes in contempt. Biting back her anger, Helen forced a calmer tone. "We need to meet. There's a document for you to sign." "What kind of document?" "It'll be clear when you get here." Letting the matter drop, Sophia hung up. As she did, she saw Lucas descending the staircase. He had showered and changed, his hair perfectly styled like a model from the pages of a magazine. She had to admit, he was pleasing to look at. 'With those looks, he certainly has the assets for a career as a gigolo,' Sophia thought wryly. A smug feeling warmed Lucas as her eyes stayed on him. He drew out the chair next to hers and sat down. "Paliston Fashion Week is just around the corner," he offered. "It'll be a good chance for us to get away." In three years of marriage, it was the first time he had ever proposed such a thing. Sophia acknowledged him with a quiet hum, but she felt no spark of happiness or expectation. She saw the offer for what it was—a peace offering, born of the guilt he carried after his betrayal. Her ride showed up shortly after breakfast. Picking up her bag, Sophia walked out the door.
Chapter 1 His First Love Returned Sophia Evans could feel her world beginning to crack the moment she heard the news—the woman her husband, Lucas Westwood, had never gotten over was back. When Sophia arrived at the hotel's VIP suite with a gift, she found Lucas's first love—Emily Evans—being humiliated by his childhood friends. "Lick the wine off my shoe, Emily. I'll give you thirty thousand dollars," one of them said. Emily was forced to kneel on the floor, tears in her defiant eyes as she stared shamefully at Lucas. Lucas watched with a dark expression, saying nothing as he held his temper in check. Sophia halted mid-step, struck by the painful familiarity of the scene. Three years ago, when she had first been welcomed into the Evans family, these same privileged young men had tormented her in exactly the same way to gain Emily's favor. But back then, Lucas hadn't worn this expression of utter heartbreak. "There you are," Lucas said as soon as he spotted Sophia, his arm sliding around her waist in a show of intimacy. Only Sophia could feel the desperate pressure of his grip—a silent testament to the pain he was trying to conceal. Lucas's childhood friends had reserved the entire venue for his birthday celebration. But Sophia had never expected Emily to show up here. Everyone knew Lucas had married Sophia just to spite Emily. Three years ago, Emily's identity as a fake heiress was exposed. She broke up with Lucas then and there and left the Evans family behind. Lucas pursued her to the airport, boarded her departing flight, and forced the plane that had already taken off to turn back. Right there on that plane, he proposed to Emily. To his complete surprise, Emily refused without hesitation, declaring that the arranged marriage should be honored by the Evans family's true heiress. Humiliated and acting out of spite, Lucas married Sophia instead. For three years, Sophia had lived as Emily's stand-in. Everyone whispered that if Emily ever returned, Lucas would discard Sophia without a second thought. Sophia had once believed that too, but something had shifted in these past six months—Lucas seemed to be genuinely falling for her. He made grand declarations of love in the press, showered her with luxury homes and cars, and even replaced the cherry tree he'd planted for Emily with a garden full of red roses. In their most tender moments, he'd whisper against her ear, "Let's have a baby, Sophie. I hope they have your smile." Sophia's hand drifted absently to her stomach as she clutched the gift box a little tighter. Inside was a positive pregnancy test—meant to be Lucas's birthday surprise. But now, the timing of the gift felt all wrong. "You still think you're the Evans family princess, Emily? Lucas only has eyes for Sophia now. Why not be with me? A pretty thing like you deserves to be treated right," one of Lucas's friends, Ryan Shaw, sneered. He dragged Emily onto his lap, his hands already roaming over her. "Get your hands off me!" Emily cried, fighting against Ryan's grip as humiliation burned through her. Her resistance only fueled Ryan's excitement. In one swift motion, he shoved her down onto the couch, his powerful body trapping hers. Horrified that Ryan would assault Emily right in front of Lucas, Sophia jumped up to stop him, only to be shoved aside as Lucas already surged into action. As she stumbled, her hands instinctively reached for Lucas's arm, but he brutally shook her off. She hit the floor hard, a jolt of sharp pain shooting from her tailbone straight to her womb. Through the pain-induced haze, she saw Lucas grab Ryan by the collar, drag him off Emily, and pummel his face with brutal, unforgiving fists. "You've overstepped, Ryan. Emily is mine. Even if I discard her, she'll never be yours to touch," Lucas snapped. His words hung in the air, and the entire room fell silent as if frozen in time. Sophia stared at Lucas in disbelief, wondering where she stood in his life now that he had openly claimed Emily as his woman. All eyes in the room were drawn to the scene. Some watched with malicious delight, while others were simply captivated by the unfolding drama. Doubled over in pain, Sophia felt a warm wetness spreading beneath her. Her face paled as a cold dread gripped her heart. "Honey, my stomach hurts," she turned to Lucas instinctively. "Please, take me to the hospital." Without even glancing her way, Lucas removed his jacket and gently placed it around Emily's shoulders. Nestling into his embrace, Emily whispered, her voice trembling, "Lucas, I'm scared. Please take me away from here." "Don't worry," he murmured, holding her close. "I won't let anyone hurt you." Sweeping Emily into his arms, Lucas carried her out of the room, completely ignoring Sophia's pain-racked form shuddering on the floor. Perched comfortably on his shoulder, Emily gazed down at Sophia's crumpled form on the floor, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. The spectators murmured among themselves, still savoring the drama they'd just witnessed. "Emily's definitely the one for Lucas. He hasn't taken his eyes off her all night." "The way Lucas looks at her... I thought it was hatred, but it's clearly something else entirely." "Who could resist someone like her? I certainly wouldn't be able to stay angry." "Poor Sophia. She was just a side character in their love story." At the mention of Sophia's name, the crowd remembered her presence simultaneously, their attention shifting to where she sat. Sophia was in terrible pain and covered in a cold sweat until someone finally noticed her condition and quickly helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?" the guy asked. She gripped his arm tightly as the room spun around her. "Please take me to the hospital. My stomach hurts terribly," she pleaded. Then everything went dark as she fainted. Through the haze of semi-consciousness, distant screams about blood echoed in her ears. When Sophia regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital room. The sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the air as she lay alone in the quiet ward. A nurse tending to her bandages noticed her awakening. "You're awake," she said softly. Sophia's voice came out weak and fearful. "My baby... Is my baby alright?" "Your baby is fine," the nurse reassured her. "But you'll need to take special care. These first few months are particularly delicate in your condition." Relief washed over Sophia as grateful tears fell. "Thank you," she whispered, overwhelmed that her child was safe. Through the emotional turmoil, Sophia's first thought was to share the news with Lucas immediately. Wiping her tears, she reached for her phone and dialed his number. The phone rang several times before Lucas finally picked up. His voice was edged with impatience as he answered, "Not coming home tonight. Don't wait—" "Lucas, my hair's caught in this zipper," Emily's voice interrupted, floating through the line. "Could you give me a hand?" Sophia's knuckles went white around her phone. "Be right there," he said. The call ended before Sophia could form a response. Overnight, things between her and Lucas had reverted to how they were six months ago. Back then, he'd been all cold shoulders and sharp tones. Even in their most intimate moments, he treated her like just another need to be met. To him, she might as well have been a stranger—or worse, just a convenient body. So when he finally let his guard down, she'd been so grateful for the warmth that she fell harder than she ever meant to. She thought her years of longing had finally paid off. But reality slapped her senseless when Lucas chose Emily's safety over their own child's life. After being discharged from the hospital, Sophia caught a taxi home. Midway through the ride, her phone buzzed with a Twitter alert. It was a tweet from Emily: [You told me you'd hold my hand and never let go—not for the rest of our lives.] The attached photo showed Emily dressed like a princess, complete with a tiny crown, her hand locked tightly with a larger, elegant hand. Around the wrist was a bracelet made of prayer beads—the very one Sophia had prayed for in a church last year, when Lucas was burning up with fever. That day, he squeezed her hand and whispered a promise that he would never leave her side. Chapter 2 Ask Him For A Divorce The taxi stopped outside the Nightfall Estate, where Sophia paid the fare and got out of the vehicle. She was just heading inside when a truck carrying young cherry trees rumbled up the drive and stopped near the garden. Workers carefully unloaded the cherry trees and settled them into the prepared holes. Where a vibrant sea of red roses had bloomed just yesterday, now only upturned earth remained, with the plants piled carelessly to the side. A dull ache spread through Sophia's chest as she gazed at the rose petals strewn like crimson tears across the soil. The familiar purr of a luxury car engine approached from behind. Turning around, Sophia saw Lucas step out of the car. He stood tall and straight, radiating a natural air of calm elegance. "Honey..." Sophia began, but the words died on her lips as he leaned back into the car. With gentle care, he helped a woman step out—it was Emily, who looked radiant in an exquisite designer ensemble that made her complexion glow. Only when Emily was steady did Lucas's gaze finally meet Sophia's, those usually warm eyes now regarding her with detached indifference. "Did you need something?" he asked, his tone flat. The cold unfamiliarity in his look struck Sophia's heart like a physical blow. "Why are you tearing out the roses when they were growing so well?" she asked, desperate for his explanation. Those roses had been his special way of confessing his feelings to her. Lucas barely glanced at the destroyed garden. "Emily's not feeling well. She'll be staying with us for a bit." "What does that have to do with the roses?" she pressed. "She's allergic to the pollen," he said curtly, already turning to guide Emily inside. Sophia stood rooted to the spot, her heart breaking. Emily's delicate voice carried through the air. "Lucas, Sophia seems upset. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have complained about the roses." "She doesn't matter to me," Lucas reassured her. "But I worry she'll resent me. Really, I can manage with allergy medication," Emily offered, her voice dripping with false concern. "Medication always has side effects. Don't suggest things that worry me," he replied. Sophia stood motionless as she watched their figures grow smaller in the distance. A silent tear traced its way down her cheek while overwhelming sorrow washed over her. 'I don't matter to him... Yeah, right,' Sophia murmured with bitter irony, the truth of the words settling like a weight in her heart. He hadn't even asked about her absence last night, and now he had ordered her favorite roses to be torn out. The message was clear—she meant less to him than the slightest thought of Emily. For three years, she had devoted herself to him, offering unwavering love and comfort through difficult times. She had believed her constant warmth could thaw even the coldest heart, but Emily's reappearance had erased everything in an instant. She wondered what their intimacy these past six months had truly meant, and what role she had actually played in his life. A sudden twinge in her lower abdomen made her catch her breath. Pale and unsteady, she turned toward the villa. As Sophia stepped into the living room, she saw Emily nestled against Lucas on the sofa, watching with affectionate amusement as he peeled an orange for her. Lucas gently picked away every bit of white pith from the orange segments before arranging them on a plate for Emily. "For you," he said with a soft smile. "Enjoy, my little foodie." As Emily took the plate, she noticed Sophia entering the room. A triumphant smile graced her lips as she called out, "Sophia, would you like some? Lucas peeled these himself. Something you've never experienced, I'm sure." Sophia's gaze fell upon the perfectly prepared orange segments, and she felt a sudden sting behind her eyes. The painful truth was that in all their time together, Lucas had never once peeled an orange for her. She had always been the one serving him. The realization struck her with perfect clarity—Lucas knew well how to be thoughtful, but he simply reserved his kindness for Emily. Sophia felt her heart breaking into pieces as she finally understood how painful comparison could be. "She's perfectly capable of peeling her own fruit," Lucas said dismissively, barely glancing at Sophia. Then he noticed her pale complexion and added, "Are you alright? You look terribly pale." Sophia's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she debated telling Lucas her secret pregnancy. A fragile hope whispered within her—that this truth might finally soften his heart toward her. "I..." Her voice faltered, the words dying on her lips. "If you're ill, see a doctor. This pathetic act is getting tiresome," Lucas said, impatience flashing across his handsome features. He was annoyed by her wounded expression, which seemed to suggest she was the victim of some terrible injustice. Sophia swallowed her unspoken words, her gaze lingering on the man who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. "I'm fine," she murmured. "I'll just go to my room." As she turned toward the staircase, Lucas felt a surge of irritation. 'I must've been too lenient with her, and now she dared to show me attitude,' he thought, fuming. Sophia had only climbed a few steps when the housekeeper, Wendy, appeared descending the stairs with servants carrying boxes. The items looked familiar, but it was the sight of her stuffed doll in Wendy's arms that made Sophia realize everything they carried was hers. In a swift motion, she stepped forward and snatched the doll. Her voice turned icy as she asked, "Wendy, care to explain this?" "Mr. Westwood's orders," Wendy said quietly. "You're to move to the storage room downstairs." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, leaving her mind reeling. She turned to Lucas, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious." They'd already maintained separate bedrooms, but she never imagined that she'd be banished to a storage room instead of even being offered the guest suite after Emily's return. For a fleeting moment under her gaze, Lucas felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly hardened into resolve. "Emily needs the sunroom for her health," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your room gets the best light. It's better for her recovery." The absurdity of it all drew a bitter laugh from Sophia's lips. She thought his previous cruelty—shoving her while pregnant and replacing her roses with Emily's cherry trees—had been the worst it could get. But this new humiliation surpassed even that. All Lucas had done since Emily's return yesterday was talk about her. In just one day, she had turned Sophia's whole life upside down. Sophia expected to feel rage, but instead found only a hollow emptiness settling in her chest. 'Look at him, Sophia,' Sophia thought bitterly. 'This is the man you gave your heart and soul to. Was any of it worth it?' "If you're so worried about her comfort, why not just move her into your room? The master suite gets the best light anyway," Sophia shot back. Lucas responded sharply, "Sophia, you need to watch your tone." Emily's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I know you don't want me here, Sophia. I'll go. Please don't fight with Lucas over me." Sophia saw right through Emily's act. A humorless laugh escaped her as she spat, "You're not going anywhere. I am." Tightening her grip on the stuffed doll, she turned and headed for the door. "Don't you dare, Sophia." Lucas rose to his feet, his voice cutting through the room. "Walk out that door now, and don't expect to ever come back." Sophia's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "I'll make sure you receive the divorce papers," she said, her voice cold and steady. "See that you sign them." "You're asking me for a divorce?" Lucas's voice was low, thick with barely restrained fury. He added, his tone edged with contempt, "Have you forgotten who gave you this life, Sophia? The luxury, the status—all of it came from me. Without my name, you're just that wide-eyed girl fresh off that forgotten little town. You don't get to leave." Chapter 3 The Replaced Medical Result Sophia didn't need to look back to know the condescending smirk that was surely on Lucas's face. She knew he had always despised her. His proposal three years ago had been motivated only by a desire to fulfill the marriage agreement between their families and to exact revenge on Emily. She had been naive enough to believe his empty promises, offering him her genuine love when he saw her as nothing more than a pawn. To him, she would always be a leech, clinging to his wealth and name for survival. But now, she had reached her limit, and she no longer wanted him in her life. Sophia walked out without a backward glance. As she stepped through the gateway, the sound of shattering porcelain echoed behind her, but she no longer cared. Lucas stood amid the shattered remains, fingers pressed to his temples. His face was a mask of simmering anger. He dismissed the mention of divorce as just another one of her calculated moves, a transparent attempt to get his attention by pulling away. Emily watched him hesitantly. "Maybe I shouldn't be staying here, Lucas. Sophia seemed really upset." "It's nothing," Lucas replied evenly. Seeing how the mention of divorce had affected him, she suggested softly, "You could go after her. Women usually respond well to a little reassurance." "I don't have time for that," Lucas said, turning toward the staircase. With a business trip looming, his mind was elsewhere. 'Let her make a scene if she wants to,' he thought. 'She'll cool off and come crawling back. She always does.' ***** Sophia's home was a beautiful 3,200-square-foot apartment with an open-concept layout and sleek modern decor—all paid for with her own earnings. In her study, she printed the divorce papers and a letter resigning from her position. With a steady hand, she signed both, and then summoned a courier to deliver them directly to the Westwood Group. When she married Lucas three years ago, Sophia had joined his company, hoping to build a genuine connection with him. She started at the very bottom as an assistant and gradually earned her way up to department manager. She had wanted nothing more than to be close to him—in their home and at work. But in the end, her efforts were met with cold indifference. Gazing downward, Sophia softly cradled her stomach. "It's just us now, little one," she whispered. The courier arrived at Westwood headquarters while Lucas was away. His chief executive assistant, Kevin Chapman, received the delivery and signed. The moment Kevin saw the contents, he reached for the phone, dialing Lucas's number in haste. "Mr. Westwood, your wife has sent divorce documents." "Burn it all." On the other side of the ocean, Lucas loosened his tie as an unexpected wave of irritation came over him. "But Mrs. Westwood has even submitted her resignation letter..." Kevin replied, his tone hesitant. "She can't survive without this family." The blue flame from Lucas's lighter highlighted the grim set of his features. "Let her be. She'll come crawling back once reality sets in." Meanwhile, Sophia remained completely unaware of his words. Her morning had begun with a call from her mother-in-law, Helen Westwood. "Where are you? Return at once," Helen commanded in her typically imperious manner, leaving no room for discussion. Complying, Sophia drove back to the estate. No sooner had she stepped inside than a velvet box came hurling toward her head, which she narrowly avoided by stepping aside. Helen's shrill voice pierced the air. "How dare you avoid that? You've got some nerve." Sophia's gaze fell upon the velvet box at her feet, and suddenly, she understood why it seemed familiar. She remembered purchasing that exact box to store her pregnancy test results. On Lucas's birthday, she had intended to present it to him as a gift, but he had accidentally pushed her before she could give it to him, resulting in her hospitalization. Her heart leaped as she turned to face Helen's livid expression. 'Could she know about the pregnancy? But something about her reaction seems strange,' she wondered. For three years, Helen had made no secret of her disapproval of Sophia, someone raised in a small town. Yet every time Sophia visited the Westwood residence with Lucas, Helen would consistently nag Sophia about starting a family soon. If Helen knew Sophia was pregnant, she was supposed to be absolutely delighted instead of reacting like this. Helen clutched a medical report, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared down Sophia. "For three years, I've watched your marriage to Lucas, wondering why you never conceived. Now I understand—he married a barren woman. "If you hadn't left this at the hotel and Lucas's friend hadn't been kind enough to deliver it, I'd still be in the dark about your condition." Heart pounding with shock, Sophia ignored Helen's murderous gaze and snatched the document from her hand. The clinical report lay cold and pale in the morning light. There was her name, clearly printed, alongside the devastating diagnosis: "permanent infertility." 'Permanent infertility? But that's impossible. I'm pregnant. Someone must have switched my test results. But who would do such a thing?' Sophia wondered. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "This isn't my..." Emily, who had remained silent until now, suddenly interrupted, "Sophia, the Westwood lineage has been passed down through a single heir for ten generations. Are you trying to ensure Lucas dies without an heir? To extinguish the family line completely?" "How utterly heartless!" Helen exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Sophia as her anger reached its peak. "We've welcomed you with open arms since you married into this family. Yet you've been hiding this from us? To think you'd let our family line die out—it's truly despicable!" she added. Sophia didn't even attempt to explain herself. If they wanted to believe she was barren, so be it—it would only simplify the divorce proceedings. "I only received the results two days ago. I hadn't found the right moment to share the news," Sophia replied, her voice calm. "This wasn't about finding the right moment. You did this intentionally," Helen retorted, her face contorted with rage. "And you planned to give this to Lucas as a gift? What kind of twisted mind would conceive such a thing?" Sophia maintained her silence. Helen took a measured breath, forcing her anger down. "If you can't conceive naturally, I won't hold it against you. I've spoken with Emily, and she's agreed to donate her eggs so you and Lucas can pursue in vitro fertilization." Sophia stared in disbelief at the unexpected turn. "Could you repeat that?" She believed she had misheard because the suggestion was both preposterous and deeply offensive. "If you can't conceive, that's your problem. Emily is being extraordinarily generous by offering her eggs. The least you could do is show some appreciation instead of this ingratitude," Helen sneered. A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. "Perhaps you'd like to accept this generous offer yourself?" "How dare you speak to me like that!" Helen's eyes flashed with fury. "Sophia, you shouldn't speak to Mrs. Westwood that way. She was suggesting that for your sake," Emily said in a honeyed tone, reaching for the glass. As she moved, she made certain to display the prayer beads circling her delicate wrist. Sophia's breath caught—she would recognize the bracelet anywhere. That was the very ones she had sacrificed so much to obtain while praying for Lucas's recovery. It felt like a personal insult, seeing the bracelet that symbolized her love for Lucas now clasped around Emily's wrist. "For my sake?" Sophia repeated, the words tasting bitter as she caught the sly glint of satisfaction in Emily's eyes. It sent a sharp ache through her. She knew this game all too well. Emily had a gift for twisting people's vulnerabilities to her advantage, a lesson Sophia had learned the hard way three years ago. "I'm infertile. What possible use could I have for your eggs?" Sophia asked, her voice cold. "Do you really think I need a constant reminder of what I can't have?" Emily's smile vanished. For Helen's benefit, she bit her lip, her eyes instantly welling with feigned hurt. "Mrs. Westwood," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "I was only trying to help Sophia." Helen immediately comforted Emily by patting her hand. She then shot Sophia a disapproving look. "How can you be so selfish, Sophia? Are you really determined to let the Westwood family line die out?" Sophia gestured dismissively toward Emily. "Well, if she's so fertile, let her handle the baby-making." The thought of Emily getting to be a mother the easy way turned Sophia's stomach. Chapter 4 Take Back Her Things The color drained from both Helen's and Emily's faces. Helen stepped forward, jabbing a finger toward Sophia. "You think you're better than us? Then you give the Westwood family an heir. Don't blame anyone else for your own useless womb." Sophia bit back the sharp retort on her tongue. She was done with this family, done with Lucas. Arguing now would only prolong the inevitable. "Mrs. Westwood," she began, "I've decided—" Lucas's familiar, deep voice cut through the tension from the doorway. "Decided what?" Sophia turned to see Lucas standing there, his clothes rumpled from travel. His assistant, Kevin, hovered behind him with a suitcase in hand. The air in the room was thick with tension, so Kevin knew better than to stay. He simply left the suitcase by the door and made a quick exit. Loosening his tie, Lucas turned to Helen. "Mom, what brings you here?" "If I hadn't come, you'd have let our family name die out," Helen shot back. She then snatched the medical report from Sophia and flung it at Lucas's chest. "See for yourself," she said coldly, and with that, she swept out of the room. Lucas looked down at the document in his hands, and the words "permanent infertility" caused a faint twitch in his brow. His eyes, when they finally lifted to meet Sophia's, were devoid of warmth. "You'll go back to the hospital tomorrow for a full work-up. I will not have a wife who can't give me an heir." A hollow ache spread through Sophia's chest. Any foolish hope she'd been clinging to finally faded. Lucas had never defended her in three years of his mother's constant belittlement. And now, the ease with which he believed this lie revealed the chilling truth of his character. "I have the divorce papers right here," Sophia said, pulling the documents from her bag. She extended them toward him, her voice steady. "Just sign them, and you'll never have to see me again." Lucas didn't even look at the papers. In one swift motion, his hand closed around her throat, pulling her close. He leaned in until his face was mere inches from hers, and she could feel his warm breath and smell the familiar scent of his cologne. There was a time when this closeness would have made her heart flutter. Now, it only made her skin crawl. It was amazing how easy it was to walk away when all the love had drained away. "Sophia, have I been too soft with you?" Lucas's voice was thick with contempt. "Where exactly do you think you'll go without my protection?" She held his gaze without flinching. "That's really none of your concern anymore." "Still got that sharp tongue," he sneered. He released her with a dismissive shove, as if her defiance meant nothing. "Go make me dinner. I'm hungry." A wave of pain shot through Sophia's lower abdomen as she sank into the sofa, her skin turning clammy with an instant, cold sweat. Across the room, Emily slid her arm through Lucas's with practiced ease. "Don't let Sophia bother you," she murmured. "Her little scene was just a cry for your attention." Lucas pulled his tie free, his stern expression melting away as he focused on Emily. "How are you holding up?" he asked, his tone gentler. "I'm fine," she sighed, putting on a pitiful face. "It's just that the medicine is so awfully bitter." "It's bitter because it's strong. You need to keep taking it," he reminded her. "I picked up those candies you like. They're in my suitcase. Go get them yourself." "I know you always look out for me," Emily said, stretching up to press a light kiss to Lucas's cheek. "Consider that your reward." A look of quiet satisfaction crossed his features at the gesture. "I'm going up to shower," he said. "Go ahead," Emily said sweetly, fluttering a wave at him. She waited until Lucas's footsteps faded up the staircase before turning to the suitcase. They carried on as if Sophia weren't standing right there in the same room. Humming cheerfully, Emily unzipped the luggage. Alongside Lucas's neatly folded clothes sat a jar of shimmering candies and an elegant red velvet box that clearly held something valuable. Her eyes skipped over the candy, going straight to the velvet box. When she lifted the lid, a pink diamond necklace lay gleaming, its facets scattering rainbows in the light. "Oh, it's exquisite. I love it," she whispered, her eyes widening. "So the candy was just a decoy. This necklace is what he really wanted me to find." Draping the necklace against her collarbone, Emily turned to face Sophia, who had risen from the sofa. "Well, Sophia? Don't you think it suits me perfectly?" The pink diamond necklace around Emily's neck struck Sophia as oddly familiar. It came to her a moment later—she had coveted it last month while flipping through a magazine. Lucas had seen her fascination and promised to get it for her. The catch was its exclusivity—a single piece, sourced from Melaria, the country where Lucas had been attending to business. "That was for me," Sophia said, her voice calm. The man was disposable, but her possessions were not. She would reclaim what was rightfully hers. With a swift motion, Emily clasped the necklace. "Finders keepers," she said with a mocking grin. Sophia approached for a closer look. Though the necklace was more exquisite than its photograph, any desire for it had vanished. A wary look crossed Emily's face. "What is this about?" "To take what belongs to me, of course," Sophia said, stepping close and extending her hand. "It's time you returned it." Emily's hands instinctively flew to the diamond necklace at her throat. "Lucas will never stand for this, Sophia. You know what I mean to him." Sophia almost laughed. She knew well that Emily held a special place in Lucas's heart. But that was irrelevant. She was only claiming what was hers. "Give the bracelet back to me," Sophia said coldly. It was a token earned through true devotion, and she wouldn't let its significance be tarnished. Realizing Sophia only wanted the simple bracelet, Emily smiled condescendingly. 'Some shortsighted people have no taste,' she thought. Emily twisted the bracelet around her wrist. "I heard you went to Grace Abbey to beg for this good-luck charm," she said. "You are so hung up on him, aren't you?" The hypocrisy of her words was almost laughable. "Give it back," Sophia said, her voice like ice. Emily's eyes flickered to a point behind Sophia, and a sly smile touched her lips. She lowered her voice. "If you want it so badly, why don't you come and take it?" Sophia didn't stop to think. She grabbed Emily's wrist and tugged the bracelet free. The moment it was off, Emily's demeanor shifted completely. "Sophia, what are you doing?" she cried out, her voice suddenly loud and panicked. "Lucas gave this to me." Before Sophia could even turn around, a powerful hand seized her by the collar and hauled her backwards. The fabric dug sharply into her throat, stealing her breath. Stumbling to regain her footing, Sophia looked up to see Lucas. He was already cradling Emily. "Emily, are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern. Emily buried her face in his chest. "I'm fine," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Please, don't be angry with Sophia. She didn't mean it." Lucas's jaw tightened, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. He took a deep breath and fixed Sophia with an icy stare. "Apologize to Emily." Chapter 5 She Wants A Clean Break A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. She had fooled herself into thinking she was numb to Lucas's coldness. But his command still sent a fresh, sharp pain through her chest. She knew there was no point arguing with a man who had already chosen the other woman's side. "I won't apologize," Sophia said, her fist closing tightly around the bracelet. "What for?" Emily looked up at Lucas with well-practiced vulnerability. "I'm causing trouble here, Lucas. I should go." Lucas caught her wrist before she could take a second step. "You're staying right here." His attention snapped back to Sophia, his expression darkening. "Now, Sophia, apologize to Emily." The room blurred as tears filled Sophia's eyes, twisting his familiar face into a stranger's. She lifted the simple bracelet between them. "This is my stuff in the first place. Since when is taking back what was stolen a crime?" "Your stuff? Since when do you have anything of your own?" Lucas's lips curled in a sneer. "I've paid for every stitch of clothing on your back." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, forcing a bitter laugh from her lips. He knew perfectly well she earned her own living, yet he took every opportunity to demean her. "This bracelet came from Grace Abbey," she countered, her voice trembling. "You didn't pay a cent for it." Lucas's eyes dropped to the simple beads in her palm. "You think I care about some cheap bracelet?" he scoffed. Hot tears streamed down Sophia's face without warning. Wiping them away, Sophia made a silent vow—this would be the last time he reduced her to this. "Fine!" With one sharp motion, she snapped the bracelet's cord, sending beads skittering across the floor. Lucas watched the scattered beads come to rest, his hand curling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. He knew how much that bracelet meant to her, but the moment Emily wanted it, he didn't hesitate to take it off and hand it over. Lucas's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "Sophia!" "I want a divorce," Sophia said, her voice eerily calm. As she opened her hand, the last bead from the bracelet clattered onto the floor between them. "Let's just end this." The sound was small, but in the tense silence, it was deafening, echoing in Lucas's mind. He let out a short laugh, his gaze locked on her. "You think a threat will work? You should know better than that by now." 'This has to be a ploy,' he thought to himself. 'She loves me too much to go through with it. She has accepted her role as Emily's replacement from the beginning and has never once tried to leave. 'She would never have the strength to walk away from me.' "Go make us something to eat, and we can forget this ever happened." Lucas was certain he had thrown Sophia a lifeline. He waited, fully expecting her to be overcome with relief and scurry off to the kitchen. He'd been away on business, and days of unfamiliar rich food had left his stomach unsettled. What he craved was Sophia's cooking—simple, hearty food that tasted like home. It was a flavor he couldn't find anywhere else. "You can go eat your ass," Sophia shot back. She picked up her bag, her lips twisting into a scornful smile, and walked out without a backward glance. That smile grated on Lucas's nerves more than the insult itself. In his frustration, his eyes fell on the string of prayer beads lying scattered on the floor, and he gave them an impatient kick. 'So that's her game. She wants to challenge me? I'd like to see just how long her resolve will hold,' he thought, fuming. ***** Sophia sped away from Nightfall Estate, her phone buzzing relentlessly on the passenger seat. Lucas's name flashed across the screen again and again until she finally grabbed it and blocked his number for good. When she looked up at the road, she blinked, her vision blurring for a moment. She braced for the familiar sting of tears, but when her fingers touched her skin, it was dry. It was only then that she noticed the soft patter against the windshield. A fine drizzle had begun to fall, and a quiet melancholy settled over her, as gray as the sky. Up ahead, the flickering hazard lights of a sleek black car broke the rhythm of the rain. A man in a soaked suit, looking to be in his forties, stood beside it, waving frantically at passing traffic. Almost without conscious thought, Sophia found herself flipping on her turn signal and pulling over. She rolled down her window as the man rushed over. "Everything okay?" she asked. "It's my boss," the man said, his voice tight with panic. "He's having a heart attack. The ambulance is stuck in a multi-car accident. Please, can you take us to the hospital?" Sophia hesitated. Letting two strange men into her car, especially in this weather, felt dangerous. Every cautionary tale she'd ever heard flashed through her mind. Seeing her hesitation, the man added urgently, "I promise we're not dangerous. My boss is—" But Sophia was already moving, cutting the engine and stepping out into the downpour. "Just get him to my car, now," she called out as she rushed toward their vehicle. As she got closer, she recognized the distinctive emblem of the black Maybach. Working together, they carefully transferred the elderly man from the luxury sedan into Sophia's more modest car. The old man's lips were tinged with blue, and each ragged breath seemed like a struggle, clear signs of his critical condition. Sliding behind the wheel, Sophia started the car and pulled back onto the road, pushing through the veils of rain. In the backseat, the middle-aged man was a whirlwind of activity on his phone, coordinating with a hospital and alerting the family. Beyond the windows, the storm seemed to intensify, as if trying to match the urgency inside the car. After ensuring everything was in place, the man turned to Sophia with heartfelt appreciation. "You're the only one who stopped in this downpour. We can't thank you enough." A warm smile touched Sophia's lips. "Some things are just meant to be." ***** Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital entrance where medical staff stood ready. The team swiftly transferred the elderly man to a stretcher and hurried him inside for emergency care. Just as Sophia was about to drive away, she spotted a lone leather shoe in the backseat—the one the elderly man had been wearing. After a moment's hesitation, she parked properly and carried the shoe to the reception desk, logging it as a lost item. Sophia was just turning to leave when a group emerged from the hospital's main entrance. At the front of the group was a man whose height and posture commanded attention. He turned his sharp gaze on her, and the intensity in his eyes was so commanding that it felt like a physical pressure. 'That frown means trouble,' Sophia thought. She averted her gaze and continued walking, brushing past the group without a second look. It wasn't until she was back in the driver's seat that she felt the chill of her wet clothes clinging to her skin. As she dried her hair with a towel from the backseat, a notification popped up on her phone while she was opening the navigation app. It was a post from Emily: [Nothing says 'forever' like a soft-boiled egg made with love! My ultimate comfort food.] The post featured two photos—one showed a soft-boiled egg with a ketchup heart, and the other captured a tall man's back as he stood at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Sophia couldn't help but compare. When she was with Lucas, he had acted like even pouring her a glass of water was a significant concession. Cooking a meal was utterly out of the question. The fact that he was now cooking for Emily spoke volumes about where his true affections lay. She closed the page and entered her apartment address into the navigation system before driving out of the parking lot. As she watched the heavy rain outside, a single decisive thought crystallized in her mind—this marriage was over. Chapter 6 Return The Trash To The Dumpster That evening, a text came through from Annabelle Quinn, Sophia's best friend since college, insisting they go out to a lounge. The old Sophia would have declined immediately, conditioned to obey Lucas's rule about her not going out. But now that Sophia was divorcing him, his opinions held no weight. ***** The moment Sophia stepped out of the car, she saw Annabelle waiting by the entrance. "Hope you haven't been waiting long," she said as she approached. "Just got here," Annabelle grinned, looping her arm through Sophia's. "So, what's the special occasion? Did you finally get a night off from your sweetheart?" Sophia struggled to find the words, but she couldn't keep it from her best friend. "I'm getting a divorce," she finally said. "Let me guess," Annabelle said, not one to mince words in front of her best friend. "This is about Emily being back, isn't it?" "It's not just that," Sophia admitted, her voice quiet. It just took seeing the difference for herself to truly see how little her three years of effort had meant. Annabelle threw a supportive arm around Sophia's shoulders. "You should have woken up to this a long time ago." For three years, she had watched Sophia lose herself in a hollow relationship, and it killed Annabelle to see her friend throw everything away for a man who never appreciated her. "Better late than never," Sophia offered with a weak smile. "Damn right it is," Annabelle declared. "Tonight, I'm getting us the best male models in town. You deserve some real attention." They ascended into the pulsating heart of the club, pushing through the glittering crowd toward the exclusive booth Annabelle had booked. As they moved past the entrance to a private booth, a burst of laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway. Amid the noise, Sophia's own name caught her sharp ear. "Got to hand it to Lucas. The minute Emily was back, he moved her right in. Word is, he showed Sophia the door." "Well, she had it coming. Play the simp, and you lose it all. Seriously though, that night in the booth with all the blood? I truly thought a tragedy had occurred, but it was probably just her period." "You're thinking about that? Man, have you had a thing for Sophia all along?" "Who'd pine after some nobody from a backwater? Only Lucas, with his unique preferences, would stick around for three years." "Guess the novelty wore off. Time for a change." Standing in the hallway, Sophia felt a cold stillness settle behind her eyes. The voices clicked into place—Lucas's oldest friends. They had been there that night, spectators to her most shameful moment. Annabelle's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind." But as she moved toward the door, Sophia stopped her with a gentle hand. "This is my battle to fight," Sophia said firmly. With that, Sophia pushed the door open and swept into the room. She settled gracefully onto the sofa, joining their conversation with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you're talking about unique preferences, I top him," she began, her voice deceptively light, "I recycled what Emily threw away. But it looks like I did everyone a favor by returning the trash to the dumpster where it belongs." A stunned silence fell over the room. Every face on the circular sofa stared at her in horrified fascination. Unbeknownst to Sophia, two figures had entered the room behind her during her speech. The guests' eyes darted nervously between Sophia and the newcomers, the air thickening with tension. There stood Lucas and Emily, their expressions dark as storm clouds. Their presence made Sophia turn. Her eyes instantly met the cold, dark stare of Lucas. But she didn't back down. A defiant shrug lifted her shoulders. "Look what the cat dragged in. My trash husband." Emily's eyes instantly glistened with tears. "Sophia, ignore them," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "It's all lies. Lucas and I are just friends." As if to prove her point, she clutched Lucas's arm. "Tell her, Lucas. Make her understand there's nothing going on between us." Sophia's gaze dropped to the hand clinging to Lucas's arm, and a faint, derisive smile touched her mouth. 'Just friends? Did she really expect anyone to believe that?' she thought bitterly. Lucas detached himself from Emily's grip and closed the distance between him and Sophia. The motion broke the tension, stirring his friends into action. "Hey, Lucas, take it easy," one of them said, stepping forward. "She's just reacting to our stupid jokes." "Come on, Sophia, just say you're sorry to Lucas," another one urged. "You know he'll forgive you." The suggestion made Sophia want to laugh bitterly. 'Is this really how they see me? As some lovesick fool who'd come crawling back at the first sign of forgiveness?' she thought. It explained everything—why, for three years, they had shown her phony respect as Lucas's wife while mocking her devotion in private. She had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn't met Lucas seven years ago, if that fateful incident hadn't tied her to him, she would have moved on with her life long ago. "Are you quite done?" Lucas's voice cut through her thoughts as he reached for her arm. She shifted her weight gracefully, letting his hand close on empty air. The rejected gesture hung between them for a beat too long before he withdrew, his features tightening with displeasure. Turning to Emily, who was now dabbing at her eyes, Sophia arched a brow. "There's no need for the waterworks. You're making it look like I'm the one being cruel here." "Sophia, I've treated you like my elder sister. I—" Emily began, trying to defend herself. "Don't," Sophia interrupted, her voice cool. "We arrived minutes apart, and you were first. Let's skip the emotional act." Emily's face turned from pale to deep red as she clenched her jaw in fury. 'Since when has Sophia found this kind of nerve? She used to shrink into silence whenever Lucas was near,' she thought. Despite her three-year absence from the city, Emily had ensured she received every scrap of information about Sophia's life. She knew all about Sophia's pathetic attempts to please Lucas, and she knew exactly how little he cared for his wife. She even knew they kept separate bedrooms, and that on the occasional night Lucas spent with Sophia, he always sent her back to her own room afterward. She knew that to Lucas, Sophia was just a body—convenient, disposable, and utterly unimportant. With a dark expression, Lucas grabbed Sophia's wrist and began pulling her toward the exit. Sophia's answer was a sharp, stinging slap across his cheek. The sound cracked through the air, and a dead silence fell over the room. All eyes were fixed on Sophia in pure shock. Everyone was wondering if she had lost her mind to dare something like that. Lucas slowly worked his jaw, the look in his eyes so dark that it promised retribution. When Sophia resisted, Lucas didn't hesitate. He swept her up onto his shoulder and carried her out of the room. The sight made Emily's heart clench. She'd never seen Lucas be so patient with anyone. Before she knew it, her hand was on his arm. "Lucas..." He didn't turn his head, but some of the tension left his expression. "I'm taking her home," he said firmly. "The driver will return for you when you're ready." Emily could only watch as Lucas walked away with Sophia. She had no right to stop him, but it stung—this was the first time he'd ever left her for another woman, especially one who meant nothing. Her hands tightened at her sides. 'I gave you a chance to walk away quietly, Sophia. You brought this on yourself,' she thought. Sophia's protests echoed down the hallway as she struggled against Lucas's hold. Unsure what was happening between the couple, Annabelle turned away, pretending she hadn't noticed them. Lucas carried Sophia into the elevator and stepped out briskly when it reached the basement level. As the car door opened, Lucas tossed Sophia into the back seat. Struggling upright, she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea from the prolonged time she'd spent upside down. She opened her mouth to curse, but the words died on her lips as the tinted window of a nearby Maybach began to descend. In the shadowy interior, the man's profile was sharp and forbidding. His lips were set in a firm line, and he sat with the imposing stillness of an iceberg, his presence pushing others away. Sensing her gaze, he glanced over, and their eyes locked. Without a word, Sophia averted her gaze and hid her face behind a veil of tangled hair. Chapter 7 Not Her Home Anymore Lucas's black Bentley pulled out of the underground parking garage, but Sophia was still lost in thought about those intense eyes. There was something familiar about them, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen them before. Lucas's voice broke the silence. "Did you follow me here? What are you so concerned about?" "What?" Sophia asked, snapping back to reality. Keeping his eyes on the road, Lucas tried to explain. "You know how my friends are—they never think before they speak. Don't take their words seriously. There's nothing going on between Emily and me." 'If there's really nothing between them, why was he being so protective? He only rushed me out because he was worried I might cause a scene and embarrass Emily,' Sophia thought. "Sure," Sophia said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You and Emily are completely innocent." "I'm trying to explain myself here," Lucas said, his patience wearing thin. "Do you have to be so sarcastic?" Her ungrateful attitude was beginning to irritate him. He remembered how she used to soften at the slightest reassurance. Now, it seemed her patience had worn thin. "Understood," Sophia said, her tone flat. "Is that all?" "I've been clear from the beginning—you are my wife, and that won't change. But if you want this marriage to work, you need to drop your little tricks. I won't play these games." Sophia stayed quiet, struck by his assumption that her mention of divorce was merely a plea for attention. Her silence tightened the air between them. "Don't become someone I resent, Sophia," he said with a frown, his voice low. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips as she turned toward the window, shutting him out completely. Sensing he had pushed too far, Lucas eased his tone. "I had your things moved back to our room. If you want to stay with me, just say so. There's no need for all this." Sophia was left speechless. ***** As the car came to a stop in the courtyard of Nightfall Estate, Sophia stepped out. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the cherry blossom grove in the garden. The sight sent a sharp pang through her chest. She forced her gaze away and continued into the villa. Inside, the decor had been completely redone. The new style, with its unmistakable resemblance to the Evans residence, clearly revealed who had overseen the renovations. She moved through rooms that felt entirely alien to her now, but she kept her thoughts to herself since this was no longer her home. Wendy looked surprised when she saw Sophia. "Mrs. Westwood, you've returned. Have you had your supper?" Sinking into the plush pink sofa, Sophia answered quietly, "Yes, thank you." Wendy offered a tight smile before retreating to her quarters to make a hurried phone call to Helen, reporting the unexpected arrival. Helen had never approved of Sophia, whom she saw as a plain nobody not good enough for her son. The infertility diagnosis hardened Helen's resolve to rush the divorce so Lucas could marry someone worthy of giving her grandchildren. The news of Sophia's sudden return after her dramatic departure kept Helen tossing and turning all night. Lucas had been certain Sophia would confront him about the complete makeover of their home. He stood ready to smooth things over, but she walked through the rooms without comment, her silence leaving him more unsettled than any argument would have. "If the decor isn't to your taste..." Lucas moved to sit beside her, his arms beginning to encircle her. Sophia reached for a throw pillow, tucking it between them as she shifted away from his embrace. The gentle rejection stung, though Lucas reassured himself that this was the same woman who had always adored him. "It's true. I prefer my original choices," she said calmly. "Can you have everything returned to how it was?" The warm, elegant furnishings had vanished, replaced by the overwhelming pinks that Emily favored—a transformation that had turned their home into something resembling a kitschy boutique hotel. Lucas shifted uncomfortably. "Let's not make a big deal out of it. You'll get used to the way things are around here." A faint, knowing smile curved on Sophia's lips as she met his gaze. That smile never failed to get under his skin. "Try to see it from her perspective, Sophia," he said, his voice tightening. "After everything she's been through these past three years, all Emily wants is to feel like she belongs." A wave of exhaustion washed over her. It was like talking to a brick wall. "I know," she said flatly. "You have your entire family backing you up," Lucas shot back, his patience clearly wearing thin. "But Emily? She has nobody else. Is it really so hard for you to be a little more compassionate?" "Funny," Sophia replied, her tone icy. "I was under the impression my adoptive parents were still very much alive." Besides, the Evans family had never once ceased to think about Emily throughout those three years. They made trip after trip to Felarica to celebrate Emily's birthdays and attend her parties. They even missed Sophia's wedding to Lucas because of her. A single social media post from Emily, complaining of her loneliness in Felarica, was all it took for them to drop everything and fly to her side. "Now that you've made it out of that dead-end town, you should be the last person to let Emily sink into it," he shot back. As Sophia looked at him, the last glimmer of hope in her eyes vanished. She knew well enough to stop mentioning divorce. To Lucas, it was just another act—proof that she was the same desperate woman the world thought her to be. If she couldn't get through to Lucas, she was going to find another path. Now, with her infertility diagnosis, she knew Helen would be far more impatient to act on this news. Sophia retreated to the master bedroom. Her possessions had claimed their space, with her clothes occupying half of the vast closet. A sense of normalcy had finally settled between her and Lucas, the kind that belongs to a husband and wife. But it was a fragile peace, already beginning to fray. Lucas was still in the living room when Emily returned. The air around her carried the sharp tang of liquor. Her face was deeply flushed, and she swayed slightly as she walked. He was at her side in an instant, his hand gently steadying her. "You've had far too much to drink," he murmured, his brow furrowed with worry. "This isn't good for you. I don't want to see you like this again." Emily turned into him, her arms finding their way around his neck. "I couldn't help it," she whispered, her voice thick with drink and emotion. "It's the only thing that dulls the ache." Sensing her legs might give way, he simply gathered her into his arms. "Wendy," he said to the housekeeper who had appeared, heading for the stairs. "Would you bring up some electrolyte water for Emily?" "Understood," Wendy replied. Playing the part of the drunken mess, Emily clung to Lucas and sobbed into his chest. "I've always regretted it," she cried. "Letting my pride push you away was the biggest mistake of my life." A long-buried tenderness tugged at Lucas's heart. "Let's try again, Lucas. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice," she whispered, tilting her face up to his. Just as their lips were about to meet, the master bedroom door swung open, and the sudden movement startled the couple in the hallway. Sophia stood in the doorway in her pajamas, watching them with a completely expressionless face. Lucas instantly snapped back to reality, and a rare look of panic flashed across his handsome face. "Sophie, Emily is drunk," he said quickly. "I'm just taking her back to her room." Still draped around him, Emily met Sophia's eyes over Lucas's shoulder. The tears were gone, replaced by a cool, triumphant smirk that held no trace of intoxication. Sophia's mouth curved into a humorless smile as she replied, "Yes, and you're drunk too." Without another word, she stepped back and slammed the door, the turn of the lock echoing decisively behind her. The idea of sleeping next to Lucas made her blood boil. She honestly didn't trust herself to lie beside him all night without her rage getting the better of her. Chapter 8 Divorce Settlement The next morning, as Sophia left her room, the guest room door across the hall opened at the exact same time. Lucas was stepping out, finishing with his tie. He glanced up and went completely still, finding Sophia already watching him from their bedroom doorway. Surprise flashed across his face, and he started with an explanation. "She was a mess last night," he said, his voice low. "I couldn't just leave her." Sophia's eyes dropped to the bright red smudge on his collar. Her eyes were filled with silent scorn as she thought about how filthy it was. She said with icy calm, "Relax, I know perfectly well that nothing would ever happen between you two, even when you don't have a stitch of clothing on." Her words cut off whatever excuse Lucas was about to offer. Anger darkened his features. "Think what you want," he snapped. "My feelings for her are purely brotherly." Sophia's eyes fell to the lipstick stain on his collar again. "So, how does it feel to be so close to your 'sister'?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Following her line of sight, Lucas saw the evidence, and a shadow of guilt crossed his face. "It was an accident," he insisted, his voice tight. "Don't make it sound so sordid." "So filthy," she murmured, shaking her head. As he drew a sharp breath to retaliate, she added with a cold smile, "I mean your shirt." He stared at her, his expression turning to stone. She merely offered a careless shrug and walked away, leaving him fuming in the hallway. Downstairs, Sophia was halfway through her breakfast when her phone vibrated on the table. A quick glance at the screen confirmed it was Helen calling. Just then, Wendy appeared with two additional breakfast plates. Sophia swiped to answer the call, a deliberate smile directed at Wendy. "You're calling so early, Mrs. Westwood." The pointed smile made Wendy's blood run cold, and at the mention of Mrs. Westwood, she was reminded of betraying Sophia by reporting to Helen last night. Stricken with guilt, she almost fumbled the tray. She dropped the plates onto the table and hastily retreated to the safety of the kitchen. A faint, cold smile touched Sophia's lips as Helen's venomous voice filled her ear. "Utterly devoid of manners," Helen sneered. "What else can you expect from someone with such a common background?" Sophia's eyes turned to ice. "Trace any lineage back three generations, Mrs. Westwood, and you'll find humble roots. It's distasteful to scorn your own origins." Helen found herself at a loss for words. Though Lucas's parents both had city roots, his grandparents' generation had all struggled in a backwater. Helen's parents had even lived in a cowshed. So in that regard, Helen was no better than Sophia. "That sharp tongue of yours is exactly why people can't stand you," Helen shot back. Sophia rolled her eyes in contempt. Biting back her anger, Helen forced a calmer tone. "We need to meet. There's a document for you to sign." "What kind of document?" "It'll be clear when you get here." Letting the matter drop, Sophia hung up. As she did, she saw Lucas descending the staircase. He had showered and changed, his hair perfectly styled like a model from the pages of a magazine. She had to admit, he was pleasing to look at. 'With those looks, he certainly has the assets for a career as a gigolo,' Sophia thought wryly. A smug feeling warmed Lucas as her eyes stayed on him. He drew out the chair next to hers and sat down. "Paliston Fashion Week is just around the corner," he offered. "It'll be a good chance for us to get away." In three years of marriage, it was the first time he had ever proposed such a thing. Sophia acknowledged him with a quiet hum, but she felt no spark of happiness or expectation. She saw the offer for what it was—a peace offering, born of the guilt he carried after his betrayal. Her ride showed up shortly after breakfast. Picking up her bag, Sophia walked out the door.
Chapter 1 His First Love Returned Sophia Evans could feel her world beginning to crack the moment she heard the news—the woman her husband, Lucas Westwood, had never gotten over was back. When Sophia arrived at the hotel's VIP suite with a gift, she found Lucas's first love—Emily Evans—being humiliated by his childhood friends. "Lick the wine off my shoe, Emily. I'll give you thirty thousand dollars," one of them said. Emily was forced to kneel on the floor, tears in her defiant eyes as she stared shamefully at Lucas. Lucas watched with a dark expression, saying nothing as he held his temper in check. Sophia halted mid-step, struck by the painful familiarity of the scene. Three years ago, when she had first been welcomed into the Evans family, these same privileged young men had tormented her in exactly the same way to gain Emily's favor. But back then, Lucas hadn't worn this expression of utter heartbreak. "There you are," Lucas said as soon as he spotted Sophia, his arm sliding around her waist in a show of intimacy. Only Sophia could feel the desperate pressure of his grip—a silent testament to the pain he was trying to conceal. Lucas's childhood friends had reserved the entire venue for his birthday celebration. But Sophia had never expected Emily to show up here. Everyone knew Lucas had married Sophia just to spite Emily. Three years ago, Emily's identity as a fake heiress was exposed. She broke up with Lucas then and there and left the Evans family behind. Lucas pursued her to the airport, boarded her departing flight, and forced the plane that had already taken off to turn back. Right there on that plane, he proposed to Emily. To his complete surprise, Emily refused without hesitation, declaring that the arranged marriage should be honored by the Evans family's true heiress. Humiliated and acting out of spite, Lucas married Sophia instead. For three years, Sophia had lived as Emily's stand-in. Everyone whispered that if Emily ever returned, Lucas would discard Sophia without a second thought. Sophia had once believed that too, but something had shifted in these past six months—Lucas seemed to be genuinely falling for her. He made grand declarations of love in the press, showered her with luxury homes and cars, and even replaced the cherry tree he'd planted for Emily with a garden full of red roses. In their most tender moments, he'd whisper against her ear, "Let's have a baby, Sophie. I hope they have your smile." Sophia's hand drifted absently to her stomach as she clutched the gift box a little tighter. Inside was a positive pregnancy test—meant to be Lucas's birthday surprise. But now, the timing of the gift felt all wrong. "You still think you're the Evans family princess, Emily? Lucas only has eyes for Sophia now. Why not be with me? A pretty thing like you deserves to be treated right," one of Lucas's friends, Ryan Shaw, sneered. He dragged Emily onto his lap, his hands already roaming over her. "Get your hands off me!" Emily cried, fighting against Ryan's grip as humiliation burned through her. Her resistance only fueled Ryan's excitement. In one swift motion, he shoved her down onto the couch, his powerful body trapping hers. Horrified that Ryan would assault Emily right in front of Lucas, Sophia jumped up to stop him, only to be shoved aside as Lucas already surged into action. As she stumbled, her hands instinctively reached for Lucas's arm, but he brutally shook her off. She hit the floor hard, a jolt of sharp pain shooting from her tailbone straight to her womb. Through the pain-induced haze, she saw Lucas grab Ryan by the collar, drag him off Emily, and pummel his face with brutal, unforgiving fists. "You've overstepped, Ryan. Emily is mine. Even if I discard her, she'll never be yours to touch," Lucas snapped. His words hung in the air, and the entire room fell silent as if frozen in time. Sophia stared at Lucas in disbelief, wondering where she stood in his life now that he had openly claimed Emily as his woman. All eyes in the room were drawn to the scene. Some watched with malicious delight, while others were simply captivated by the unfolding drama. Doubled over in pain, Sophia felt a warm wetness spreading beneath her. Her face paled as a cold dread gripped her heart. "Honey, my stomach hurts," she turned to Lucas instinctively. "Please, take me to the hospital." Without even glancing her way, Lucas removed his jacket and gently placed it around Emily's shoulders. Nestling into his embrace, Emily whispered, her voice trembling, "Lucas, I'm scared. Please take me away from here." "Don't worry," he murmured, holding her close. "I won't let anyone hurt you." Sweeping Emily into his arms, Lucas carried her out of the room, completely ignoring Sophia's pain-racked form shuddering on the floor. Perched comfortably on his shoulder, Emily gazed down at Sophia's crumpled form on the floor, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. The spectators murmured among themselves, still savoring the drama they'd just witnessed. "Emily's definitely the one for Lucas. He hasn't taken his eyes off her all night." "The way Lucas looks at her... I thought it was hatred, but it's clearly something else entirely." "Who could resist someone like her? I certainly wouldn't be able to stay angry." "Poor Sophia. She was just a side character in their love story." At the mention of Sophia's name, the crowd remembered her presence simultaneously, their attention shifting to where she sat. Sophia was in terrible pain and covered in a cold sweat until someone finally noticed her condition and quickly helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?" the guy asked. She gripped his arm tightly as the room spun around her. "Please take me to the hospital. My stomach hurts terribly," she pleaded. Then everything went dark as she fainted. Through the haze of semi-consciousness, distant screams about blood echoed in her ears. When Sophia regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital room. The sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the air as she lay alone in the quiet ward. A nurse tending to her bandages noticed her awakening. "You're awake," she said softly. Sophia's voice came out weak and fearful. "My baby... Is my baby alright?" "Your baby is fine," the nurse reassured her. "But you'll need to take special care. These first few months are particularly delicate in your condition." Relief washed over Sophia as grateful tears fell. "Thank you," she whispered, overwhelmed that her child was safe. Through the emotional turmoil, Sophia's first thought was to share the news with Lucas immediately. Wiping her tears, she reached for her phone and dialed his number. The phone rang several times before Lucas finally picked up. His voice was edged with impatience as he answered, "Not coming home tonight. Don't wait—" "Lucas, my hair's caught in this zipper," Emily's voice interrupted, floating through the line. "Could you give me a hand?" Sophia's knuckles went white around her phone. "Be right there," he said. The call ended before Sophia could form a response. Overnight, things between her and Lucas had reverted to how they were six months ago. Back then, he'd been all cold shoulders and sharp tones. Even in their most intimate moments, he treated her like just another need to be met. To him, she might as well have been a stranger—or worse, just a convenient body. So when he finally let his guard down, she'd been so grateful for the warmth that she fell harder than she ever meant to. She thought her years of longing had finally paid off. But reality slapped her senseless when Lucas chose Emily's safety over their own child's life. After being discharged from the hospital, Sophia caught a taxi home. Midway through the ride, her phone buzzed with a Twitter alert. It was a tweet from Emily: [You told me you'd hold my hand and never let go—not for the rest of our lives.] The attached photo showed Emily dressed like a princess, complete with a tiny crown, her hand locked tightly with a larger, elegant hand. Around the wrist was a bracelet made of prayer beads—the very one Sophia had prayed for in a church last year, when Lucas was burning up with fever. That day, he squeezed her hand and whispered a promise that he would never leave her side. Chapter 2 Ask Him For A Divorce The taxi stopped outside the Nightfall Estate, where Sophia paid the fare and got out of the vehicle. She was just heading inside when a truck carrying young cherry trees rumbled up the drive and stopped near the garden. Workers carefully unloaded the cherry trees and settled them into the prepared holes. Where a vibrant sea of red roses had bloomed just yesterday, now only upturned earth remained, with the plants piled carelessly to the side. A dull ache spread through Sophia's chest as she gazed at the rose petals strewn like crimson tears across the soil. The familiar purr of a luxury car engine approached from behind. Turning around, Sophia saw Lucas step out of the car. He stood tall and straight, radiating a natural air of calm elegance. "Honey..." Sophia began, but the words died on her lips as he leaned back into the car. With gentle care, he helped a woman step out—it was Emily, who looked radiant in an exquisite designer ensemble that made her complexion glow. Only when Emily was steady did Lucas's gaze finally meet Sophia's, those usually warm eyes now regarding her with detached indifference. "Did you need something?" he asked, his tone flat. The cold unfamiliarity in his look struck Sophia's heart like a physical blow. "Why are you tearing out the roses when they were growing so well?" she asked, desperate for his explanation. Those roses had been his special way of confessing his feelings to her. Lucas barely glanced at the destroyed garden. "Emily's not feeling well. She'll be staying with us for a bit." "What does that have to do with the roses?" she pressed. "She's allergic to the pollen," he said curtly, already turning to guide Emily inside. Sophia stood rooted to the spot, her heart breaking. Emily's delicate voice carried through the air. "Lucas, Sophia seems upset. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have complained about the roses." "She doesn't matter to me," Lucas reassured her. "But I worry she'll resent me. Really, I can manage with allergy medication," Emily offered, her voice dripping with false concern. "Medication always has side effects. Don't suggest things that worry me," he replied. Sophia stood motionless as she watched their figures grow smaller in the distance. A silent tear traced its way down her cheek while overwhelming sorrow washed over her. 'I don't matter to him... Yeah, right,' Sophia murmured with bitter irony, the truth of the words settling like a weight in her heart. He hadn't even asked about her absence last night, and now he had ordered her favorite roses to be torn out. The message was clear—she meant less to him than the slightest thought of Emily. For three years, she had devoted herself to him, offering unwavering love and comfort through difficult times. She had believed her constant warmth could thaw even the coldest heart, but Emily's reappearance had erased everything in an instant. She wondered what their intimacy these past six months had truly meant, and what role she had actually played in his life. A sudden twinge in her lower abdomen made her catch her breath. Pale and unsteady, she turned toward the villa. As Sophia stepped into the living room, she saw Emily nestled against Lucas on the sofa, watching with affectionate amusement as he peeled an orange for her. Lucas gently picked away every bit of white pith from the orange segments before arranging them on a plate for Emily. "For you," he said with a soft smile. "Enjoy, my little foodie." As Emily took the plate, she noticed Sophia entering the room. A triumphant smile graced her lips as she called out, "Sophia, would you like some? Lucas peeled these himself. Something you've never experienced, I'm sure." Sophia's gaze fell upon the perfectly prepared orange segments, and she felt a sudden sting behind her eyes. The painful truth was that in all their time together, Lucas had never once peeled an orange for her. She had always been the one serving him. The realization struck her with perfect clarity—Lucas knew well how to be thoughtful, but he simply reserved his kindness for Emily. Sophia felt her heart breaking into pieces as she finally understood how painful comparison could be. "She's perfectly capable of peeling her own fruit," Lucas said dismissively, barely glancing at Sophia. Then he noticed her pale complexion and added, "Are you alright? You look terribly pale." Sophia's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she debated telling Lucas her secret pregnancy. A fragile hope whispered within her—that this truth might finally soften his heart toward her. "I..." Her voice faltered, the words dying on her lips. "If you're ill, see a doctor. This pathetic act is getting tiresome," Lucas said, impatience flashing across his handsome features. He was annoyed by her wounded expression, which seemed to suggest she was the victim of some terrible injustice. Sophia swallowed her unspoken words, her gaze lingering on the man who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. "I'm fine," she murmured. "I'll just go to my room." As she turned toward the staircase, Lucas felt a surge of irritation. 'I must've been too lenient with her, and now she dared to show me attitude,' he thought, fuming. Sophia had only climbed a few steps when the housekeeper, Wendy, appeared descending the stairs with servants carrying boxes. The items looked familiar, but it was the sight of her stuffed doll in Wendy's arms that made Sophia realize everything they carried was hers. In a swift motion, she stepped forward and snatched the doll. Her voice turned icy as she asked, "Wendy, care to explain this?" "Mr. Westwood's orders," Wendy said quietly. "You're to move to the storage room downstairs." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, leaving her mind reeling. She turned to Lucas, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious." They'd already maintained separate bedrooms, but she never imagined that she'd be banished to a storage room instead of even being offered the guest suite after Emily's return. For a fleeting moment under her gaze, Lucas felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly hardened into resolve. "Emily needs the sunroom for her health," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your room gets the best light. It's better for her recovery." The absurdity of it all drew a bitter laugh from Sophia's lips. She thought his previous cruelty—shoving her while pregnant and replacing her roses with Emily's cherry trees—had been the worst it could get. But this new humiliation surpassed even that. All Lucas had done since Emily's return yesterday was talk about her. In just one day, she had turned Sophia's whole life upside down. Sophia expected to feel rage, but instead found only a hollow emptiness settling in her chest. 'Look at him, Sophia,' Sophia thought bitterly. 'This is the man you gave your heart and soul to. Was any of it worth it?' "If you're so worried about her comfort, why not just move her into your room? The master suite gets the best light anyway," Sophia shot back. Lucas responded sharply, "Sophia, you need to watch your tone." Emily's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I know you don't want me here, Sophia. I'll go. Please don't fight with Lucas over me." Sophia saw right through Emily's act. A humorless laugh escaped her as she spat, "You're not going anywhere. I am." Tightening her grip on the stuffed doll, she turned and headed for the door. "Don't you dare, Sophia." Lucas rose to his feet, his voice cutting through the room. "Walk out that door now, and don't expect to ever come back." Sophia's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "I'll make sure you receive the divorce papers," she said, her voice cold and steady. "See that you sign them." "You're asking me for a divorce?" Lucas's voice was low, thick with barely restrained fury. He added, his tone edged with contempt, "Have you forgotten who gave you this life, Sophia? The luxury, the status—all of it came from me. Without my name, you're just that wide-eyed girl fresh off that forgotten little town. You don't get to leave." Chapter 3 The Replaced Medical Result Sophia didn't need to look back to know the condescending smirk that was surely on Lucas's face. She knew he had always despised her. His proposal three years ago had been motivated only by a desire to fulfill the marriage agreement between their families and to exact revenge on Emily. She had been naive enough to believe his empty promises, offering him her genuine love when he saw her as nothing more than a pawn. To him, she would always be a leech, clinging to his wealth and name for survival. But now, she had reached her limit, and she no longer wanted him in her life. Sophia walked out without a backward glance. As she stepped through the gateway, the sound of shattering porcelain echoed behind her, but she no longer cared. Lucas stood amid the shattered remains, fingers pressed to his temples. His face was a mask of simmering anger. He dismissed the mention of divorce as just another one of her calculated moves, a transparent attempt to get his attention by pulling away. Emily watched him hesitantly. "Maybe I shouldn't be staying here, Lucas. Sophia seemed really upset." "It's nothing," Lucas replied evenly. Seeing how the mention of divorce had affected him, she suggested softly, "You could go after her. Women usually respond well to a little reassurance." "I don't have time for that," Lucas said, turning toward the staircase. With a business trip looming, his mind was elsewhere. 'Let her make a scene if she wants to,' he thought. 'She'll cool off and come crawling back. She always does.' ***** Sophia's home was a beautiful 3,200-square-foot apartment with an open-concept layout and sleek modern decor—all paid for with her own earnings. In her study, she printed the divorce papers and a letter resigning from her position. With a steady hand, she signed both, and then summoned a courier to deliver them directly to the Westwood Group. When she married Lucas three years ago, Sophia had joined his company, hoping to build a genuine connection with him. She started at the very bottom as an assistant and gradually earned her way up to department manager. She had wanted nothing more than to be close to him—in their home and at work. But in the end, her efforts were met with cold indifference. Gazing downward, Sophia softly cradled her stomach. "It's just us now, little one," she whispered. The courier arrived at Westwood headquarters while Lucas was away. His chief executive assistant, Kevin Chapman, received the delivery and signed. The moment Kevin saw the contents, he reached for the phone, dialing Lucas's number in haste. "Mr. Westwood, your wife has sent divorce documents." "Burn it all." On the other side of the ocean, Lucas loosened his tie as an unexpected wave of irritation came over him. "But Mrs. Westwood has even submitted her resignation letter..." Kevin replied, his tone hesitant. "She can't survive without this family." The blue flame from Lucas's lighter highlighted the grim set of his features. "Let her be. She'll come crawling back once reality sets in." Meanwhile, Sophia remained completely unaware of his words. Her morning had begun with a call from her mother-in-law, Helen Westwood. "Where are you? Return at once," Helen commanded in her typically imperious manner, leaving no room for discussion. Complying, Sophia drove back to the estate. No sooner had she stepped inside than a velvet box came hurling toward her head, which she narrowly avoided by stepping aside. Helen's shrill voice pierced the air. "How dare you avoid that? You've got some nerve." Sophia's gaze fell upon the velvet box at her feet, and suddenly, she understood why it seemed familiar. She remembered purchasing that exact box to store her pregnancy test results. On Lucas's birthday, she had intended to present it to him as a gift, but he had accidentally pushed her before she could give it to him, resulting in her hospitalization. Her heart leaped as she turned to face Helen's livid expression. 'Could she know about the pregnancy? But something about her reaction seems strange,' she wondered. For three years, Helen had made no secret of her disapproval of Sophia, someone raised in a small town. Yet every time Sophia visited the Westwood residence with Lucas, Helen would consistently nag Sophia about starting a family soon. If Helen knew Sophia was pregnant, she was supposed to be absolutely delighted instead of reacting like this. Helen clutched a medical report, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared down Sophia. "For three years, I've watched your marriage to Lucas, wondering why you never conceived. Now I understand—he married a barren woman. "If you hadn't left this at the hotel and Lucas's friend hadn't been kind enough to deliver it, I'd still be in the dark about your condition." Heart pounding with shock, Sophia ignored Helen's murderous gaze and snatched the document from her hand. The clinical report lay cold and pale in the morning light. There was her name, clearly printed, alongside the devastating diagnosis: "permanent infertility." 'Permanent infertility? But that's impossible. I'm pregnant. Someone must have switched my test results. But who would do such a thing?' Sophia wondered. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "This isn't my..." Emily, who had remained silent until now, suddenly interrupted, "Sophia, the Westwood lineage has been passed down through a single heir for ten generations. Are you trying to ensure Lucas dies without an heir? To extinguish the family line completely?" "How utterly heartless!" Helen exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Sophia as her anger reached its peak. "We've welcomed you with open arms since you married into this family. Yet you've been hiding this from us? To think you'd let our family line die out—it's truly despicable!" she added. Sophia didn't even attempt to explain herself. If they wanted to believe she was barren, so be it—it would only simplify the divorce proceedings. "I only received the results two days ago. I hadn't found the right moment to share the news," Sophia replied, her voice calm. "This wasn't about finding the right moment. You did this intentionally," Helen retorted, her face contorted with rage. "And you planned to give this to Lucas as a gift? What kind of twisted mind would conceive such a thing?" Sophia maintained her silence. Helen took a measured breath, forcing her anger down. "If you can't conceive naturally, I won't hold it against you. I've spoken with Emily, and she's agreed to donate her eggs so you and Lucas can pursue in vitro fertilization." Sophia stared in disbelief at the unexpected turn. "Could you repeat that?" She believed she had misheard because the suggestion was both preposterous and deeply offensive. "If you can't conceive, that's your problem. Emily is being extraordinarily generous by offering her eggs. The least you could do is show some appreciation instead of this ingratitude," Helen sneered. A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. "Perhaps you'd like to accept this generous offer yourself?" "How dare you speak to me like that!" Helen's eyes flashed with fury. "Sophia, you shouldn't speak to Mrs. Westwood that way. She was suggesting that for your sake," Emily said in a honeyed tone, reaching for the glass. As she moved, she made certain to display the prayer beads circling her delicate wrist. Sophia's breath caught—she would recognize the bracelet anywhere. That was the very ones she had sacrificed so much to obtain while praying for Lucas's recovery. It felt like a personal insult, seeing the bracelet that symbolized her love for Lucas now clasped around Emily's wrist. "For my sake?" Sophia repeated, the words tasting bitter as she caught the sly glint of satisfaction in Emily's eyes. It sent a sharp ache through her. She knew this game all too well. Emily had a gift for twisting people's vulnerabilities to her advantage, a lesson Sophia had learned the hard way three years ago. "I'm infertile. What possible use could I have for your eggs?" Sophia asked, her voice cold. "Do you really think I need a constant reminder of what I can't have?" Emily's smile vanished. For Helen's benefit, she bit her lip, her eyes instantly welling with feigned hurt. "Mrs. Westwood," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "I was only trying to help Sophia." Helen immediately comforted Emily by patting her hand. She then shot Sophia a disapproving look. "How can you be so selfish, Sophia? Are you really determined to let the Westwood family line die out?" Sophia gestured dismissively toward Emily. "Well, if she's so fertile, let her handle the baby-making." The thought of Emily getting to be a mother the easy way turned Sophia's stomach. Chapter 4 Take Back Her Things The color drained from both Helen's and Emily's faces. Helen stepped forward, jabbing a finger toward Sophia. "You think you're better than us? Then you give the Westwood family an heir. Don't blame anyone else for your own useless womb." Sophia bit back the sharp retort on her tongue. She was done with this family, done with Lucas. Arguing now would only prolong the inevitable. "Mrs. Westwood," she began, "I've decided—" Lucas's familiar, deep voice cut through the tension from the doorway. "Decided what?" Sophia turned to see Lucas standing there, his clothes rumpled from travel. His assistant, Kevin, hovered behind him with a suitcase in hand. The air in the room was thick with tension, so Kevin knew better than to stay. He simply left the suitcase by the door and made a quick exit. Loosening his tie, Lucas turned to Helen. "Mom, what brings you here?" "If I hadn't come, you'd have let our family name die out," Helen shot back. She then snatched the medical report from Sophia and flung it at Lucas's chest. "See for yourself," she said coldly, and with that, she swept out of the room. Lucas looked down at the document in his hands, and the words "permanent infertility" caused a faint twitch in his brow. His eyes, when they finally lifted to meet Sophia's, were devoid of warmth. "You'll go back to the hospital tomorrow for a full work-up. I will not have a wife who can't give me an heir." A hollow ache spread through Sophia's chest. Any foolish hope she'd been clinging to finally faded. Lucas had never defended her in three years of his mother's constant belittlement. And now, the ease with which he believed this lie revealed the chilling truth of his character. "I have the divorce papers right here," Sophia said, pulling the documents from her bag. She extended them toward him, her voice steady. "Just sign them, and you'll never have to see me again." Lucas didn't even look at the papers. In one swift motion, his hand closed around her throat, pulling her close. He leaned in until his face was mere inches from hers, and she could feel his warm breath and smell the familiar scent of his cologne. There was a time when this closeness would have made her heart flutter. Now, it only made her skin crawl. It was amazing how easy it was to walk away when all the love had drained away. "Sophia, have I been too soft with you?" Lucas's voice was thick with contempt. "Where exactly do you think you'll go without my protection?" She held his gaze without flinching. "That's really none of your concern anymore." "Still got that sharp tongue," he sneered. He released her with a dismissive shove, as if her defiance meant nothing. "Go make me dinner. I'm hungry." A wave of pain shot through Sophia's lower abdomen as she sank into the sofa, her skin turning clammy with an instant, cold sweat. Across the room, Emily slid her arm through Lucas's with practiced ease. "Don't let Sophia bother you," she murmured. "Her little scene was just a cry for your attention." Lucas pulled his tie free, his stern expression melting away as he focused on Emily. "How are you holding up?" he asked, his tone gentler. "I'm fine," she sighed, putting on a pitiful face. "It's just that the medicine is so awfully bitter." "It's bitter because it's strong. You need to keep taking it," he reminded her. "I picked up those candies you like. They're in my suitcase. Go get them yourself." "I know you always look out for me," Emily said, stretching up to press a light kiss to Lucas's cheek. "Consider that your reward." A look of quiet satisfaction crossed his features at the gesture. "I'm going up to shower," he said. "Go ahead," Emily said sweetly, fluttering a wave at him. She waited until Lucas's footsteps faded up the staircase before turning to the suitcase. They carried on as if Sophia weren't standing right there in the same room. Humming cheerfully, Emily unzipped the luggage. Alongside Lucas's neatly folded clothes sat a jar of shimmering candies and an elegant red velvet box that clearly held something valuable. Her eyes skipped over the candy, going straight to the velvet box. When she lifted the lid, a pink diamond necklace lay gleaming, its facets scattering rainbows in the light. "Oh, it's exquisite. I love it," she whispered, her eyes widening. "So the candy was just a decoy. This necklace is what he really wanted me to find." Draping the necklace against her collarbone, Emily turned to face Sophia, who had risen from the sofa. "Well, Sophia? Don't you think it suits me perfectly?" The pink diamond necklace around Emily's neck struck Sophia as oddly familiar. It came to her a moment later—she had coveted it last month while flipping through a magazine. Lucas had seen her fascination and promised to get it for her. The catch was its exclusivity—a single piece, sourced from Melaria, the country where Lucas had been attending to business. "That was for me," Sophia said, her voice calm. The man was disposable, but her possessions were not. She would reclaim what was rightfully hers. With a swift motion, Emily clasped the necklace. "Finders keepers," she said with a mocking grin. Sophia approached for a closer look. Though the necklace was more exquisite than its photograph, any desire for it had vanished. A wary look crossed Emily's face. "What is this about?" "To take what belongs to me, of course," Sophia said, stepping close and extending her hand. "It's time you returned it." Emily's hands instinctively flew to the diamond necklace at her throat. "Lucas will never stand for this, Sophia. You know what I mean to him." Sophia almost laughed. She knew well that Emily held a special place in Lucas's heart. But that was irrelevant. She was only claiming what was hers. "Give the bracelet back to me," Sophia said coldly. It was a token earned through true devotion, and she wouldn't let its significance be tarnished. Realizing Sophia only wanted the simple bracelet, Emily smiled condescendingly. 'Some shortsighted people have no taste,' she thought. Emily twisted the bracelet around her wrist. "I heard you went to Grace Abbey to beg for this good-luck charm," she said. "You are so hung up on him, aren't you?" The hypocrisy of her words was almost laughable. "Give it back," Sophia said, her voice like ice. Emily's eyes flickered to a point behind Sophia, and a sly smile touched her lips. She lowered her voice. "If you want it so badly, why don't you come and take it?" Sophia didn't stop to think. She grabbed Emily's wrist and tugged the bracelet free. The moment it was off, Emily's demeanor shifted completely. "Sophia, what are you doing?" she cried out, her voice suddenly loud and panicked. "Lucas gave this to me." Before Sophia could even turn around, a powerful hand seized her by the collar and hauled her backwards. The fabric dug sharply into her throat, stealing her breath. Stumbling to regain her footing, Sophia looked up to see Lucas. He was already cradling Emily. "Emily, are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern. Emily buried her face in his chest. "I'm fine," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Please, don't be angry with Sophia. She didn't mean it." Lucas's jaw tightened, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. He took a deep breath and fixed Sophia with an icy stare. "Apologize to Emily." Chapter 5 She Wants A Clean Break A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. She had fooled herself into thinking she was numb to Lucas's coldness. But his command still sent a fresh, sharp pain through her chest. She knew there was no point arguing with a man who had already chosen the other woman's side. "I won't apologize," Sophia said, her fist closing tightly around the bracelet. "What for?" Emily looked up at Lucas with well-practiced vulnerability. "I'm causing trouble here, Lucas. I should go." Lucas caught her wrist before she could take a second step. "You're staying right here." His attention snapped back to Sophia, his expression darkening. "Now, Sophia, apologize to Emily." The room blurred as tears filled Sophia's eyes, twisting his familiar face into a stranger's. She lifted the simple bracelet between them. "This is my stuff in the first place. Since when is taking back what was stolen a crime?" "Your stuff? Since when do you have anything of your own?" Lucas's lips curled in a sneer. "I've paid for every stitch of clothing on your back." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, forcing a bitter laugh from her lips. He knew perfectly well she earned her own living, yet he took every opportunity to demean her. "This bracelet came from Grace Abbey," she countered, her voice trembling. "You didn't pay a cent for it." Lucas's eyes dropped to the simple beads in her palm. "You think I care about some cheap bracelet?" he scoffed. Hot tears streamed down Sophia's face without warning. Wiping them away, Sophia made a silent vow—this would be the last time he reduced her to this. "Fine!" With one sharp motion, she snapped the bracelet's cord, sending beads skittering across the floor. Lucas watched the scattered beads come to rest, his hand curling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. He knew how much that bracelet meant to her, but the moment Emily wanted it, he didn't hesitate to take it off and hand it over. Lucas's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "Sophia!" "I want a divorce," Sophia said, her voice eerily calm. As she opened her hand, the last bead from the bracelet clattered onto the floor between them. "Let's just end this." The sound was small, but in the tense silence, it was deafening, echoing in Lucas's mind. He let out a short laugh, his gaze locked on her. "You think a threat will work? You should know better than that by now." 'This has to be a ploy,' he thought to himself. 'She loves me too much to go through with it. She has accepted her role as Emily's replacement from the beginning and has never once tried to leave. 'She would never have the strength to walk away from me.' "Go make us something to eat, and we can forget this ever happened." Lucas was certain he had thrown Sophia a lifeline. He waited, fully expecting her to be overcome with relief and scurry off to the kitchen. He'd been away on business, and days of unfamiliar rich food had left his stomach unsettled. What he craved was Sophia's cooking—simple, hearty food that tasted like home. It was a flavor he couldn't find anywhere else. "You can go eat your ass," Sophia shot back. She picked up her bag, her lips twisting into a scornful smile, and walked out without a backward glance. That smile grated on Lucas's nerves more than the insult itself. In his frustration, his eyes fell on the string of prayer beads lying scattered on the floor, and he gave them an impatient kick. 'So that's her game. She wants to challenge me? I'd like to see just how long her resolve will hold,' he thought, fuming. ***** Sophia sped away from Nightfall Estate, her phone buzzing relentlessly on the passenger seat. Lucas's name flashed across the screen again and again until she finally grabbed it and blocked his number for good. When she looked up at the road, she blinked, her vision blurring for a moment. She braced for the familiar sting of tears, but when her fingers touched her skin, it was dry. It was only then that she noticed the soft patter against the windshield. A fine drizzle had begun to fall, and a quiet melancholy settled over her, as gray as the sky. Up ahead, the flickering hazard lights of a sleek black car broke the rhythm of the rain. A man in a soaked suit, looking to be in his forties, stood beside it, waving frantically at passing traffic. Almost without conscious thought, Sophia found herself flipping on her turn signal and pulling over. She rolled down her window as the man rushed over. "Everything okay?" she asked. "It's my boss," the man said, his voice tight with panic. "He's having a heart attack. The ambulance is stuck in a multi-car accident. Please, can you take us to the hospital?" Sophia hesitated. Letting two strange men into her car, especially in this weather, felt dangerous. Every cautionary tale she'd ever heard flashed through her mind. Seeing her hesitation, the man added urgently, "I promise we're not dangerous. My boss is—" But Sophia was already moving, cutting the engine and stepping out into the downpour. "Just get him to my car, now," she called out as she rushed toward their vehicle. As she got closer, she recognized the distinctive emblem of the black Maybach. Working together, they carefully transferred the elderly man from the luxury sedan into Sophia's more modest car. The old man's lips were tinged with blue, and each ragged breath seemed like a struggle, clear signs of his critical condition. Sliding behind the wheel, Sophia started the car and pulled back onto the road, pushing through the veils of rain. In the backseat, the middle-aged man was a whirlwind of activity on his phone, coordinating with a hospital and alerting the family. Beyond the windows, the storm seemed to intensify, as if trying to match the urgency inside the car. After ensuring everything was in place, the man turned to Sophia with heartfelt appreciation. "You're the only one who stopped in this downpour. We can't thank you enough." A warm smile touched Sophia's lips. "Some things are just meant to be." ***** Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital entrance where medical staff stood ready. The team swiftly transferred the elderly man to a stretcher and hurried him inside for emergency care. Just as Sophia was about to drive away, she spotted a lone leather shoe in the backseat—the one the elderly man had been wearing. After a moment's hesitation, she parked properly and carried the shoe to the reception desk, logging it as a lost item. Sophia was just turning to leave when a group emerged from the hospital's main entrance. At the front of the group was a man whose height and posture commanded attention. He turned his sharp gaze on her, and the intensity in his eyes was so commanding that it felt like a physical pressure. 'That frown means trouble,' Sophia thought. She averted her gaze and continued walking, brushing past the group without a second look. It wasn't until she was back in the driver's seat that she felt the chill of her wet clothes clinging to her skin. As she dried her hair with a towel from the backseat, a notification popped up on her phone while she was opening the navigation app. It was a post from Emily: [Nothing says 'forever' like a soft-boiled egg made with love! My ultimate comfort food.] The post featured two photos—one showed a soft-boiled egg with a ketchup heart, and the other captured a tall man's back as he stood at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Sophia couldn't help but compare. When she was with Lucas, he had acted like even pouring her a glass of water was a significant concession. Cooking a meal was utterly out of the question. The fact that he was now cooking for Emily spoke volumes about where his true affections lay. She closed the page and entered her apartment address into the navigation system before driving out of the parking lot. As she watched the heavy rain outside, a single decisive thought crystallized in her mind—this marriage was over. Chapter 6 Return The Trash To The Dumpster That evening, a text came through from Annabelle Quinn, Sophia's best friend since college, insisting they go out to a lounge. The old Sophia would have declined immediately, conditioned to obey Lucas's rule about her not going out. But now that Sophia was divorcing him, his opinions held no weight. ***** The moment Sophia stepped out of the car, she saw Annabelle waiting by the entrance. "Hope you haven't been waiting long," she said as she approached. "Just got here," Annabelle grinned, looping her arm through Sophia's. "So, what's the special occasion? Did you finally get a night off from your sweetheart?" Sophia struggled to find the words, but she couldn't keep it from her best friend. "I'm getting a divorce," she finally said. "Let me guess," Annabelle said, not one to mince words in front of her best friend. "This is about Emily being back, isn't it?" "It's not just that," Sophia admitted, her voice quiet. It just took seeing the difference for herself to truly see how little her three years of effort had meant. Annabelle threw a supportive arm around Sophia's shoulders. "You should have woken up to this a long time ago." For three years, she had watched Sophia lose herself in a hollow relationship, and it killed Annabelle to see her friend throw everything away for a man who never appreciated her. "Better late than never," Sophia offered with a weak smile. "Damn right it is," Annabelle declared. "Tonight, I'm getting us the best male models in town. You deserve some real attention." They ascended into the pulsating heart of the club, pushing through the glittering crowd toward the exclusive booth Annabelle had booked. As they moved past the entrance to a private booth, a burst of laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway. Amid the noise, Sophia's own name caught her sharp ear. "Got to hand it to Lucas. The minute Emily was back, he moved her right in. Word is, he showed Sophia the door." "Well, she had it coming. Play the simp, and you lose it all. Seriously though, that night in the booth with all the blood? I truly thought a tragedy had occurred, but it was probably just her period." "You're thinking about that? Man, have you had a thing for Sophia all along?" "Who'd pine after some nobody from a backwater? Only Lucas, with his unique preferences, would stick around for three years." "Guess the novelty wore off. Time for a change." Standing in the hallway, Sophia felt a cold stillness settle behind her eyes. The voices clicked into place—Lucas's oldest friends. They had been there that night, spectators to her most shameful moment. Annabelle's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind." But as she moved toward the door, Sophia stopped her with a gentle hand. "This is my battle to fight," Sophia said firmly. With that, Sophia pushed the door open and swept into the room. She settled gracefully onto the sofa, joining their conversation with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you're talking about unique preferences, I top him," she began, her voice deceptively light, "I recycled what Emily threw away. But it looks like I did everyone a favor by returning the trash to the dumpster where it belongs." A stunned silence fell over the room. Every face on the circular sofa stared at her in horrified fascination. Unbeknownst to Sophia, two figures had entered the room behind her during her speech. The guests' eyes darted nervously between Sophia and the newcomers, the air thickening with tension. There stood Lucas and Emily, their expressions dark as storm clouds. Their presence made Sophia turn. Her eyes instantly met the cold, dark stare of Lucas. But she didn't back down. A defiant shrug lifted her shoulders. "Look what the cat dragged in. My trash husband." Emily's eyes instantly glistened with tears. "Sophia, ignore them," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "It's all lies. Lucas and I are just friends." As if to prove her point, she clutched Lucas's arm. "Tell her, Lucas. Make her understand there's nothing going on between us." Sophia's gaze dropped to the hand clinging to Lucas's arm, and a faint, derisive smile touched her mouth. 'Just friends? Did she really expect anyone to believe that?' she thought bitterly. Lucas detached himself from Emily's grip and closed the distance between him and Sophia. The motion broke the tension, stirring his friends into action. "Hey, Lucas, take it easy," one of them said, stepping forward. "She's just reacting to our stupid jokes." "Come on, Sophia, just say you're sorry to Lucas," another one urged. "You know he'll forgive you." The suggestion made Sophia want to laugh bitterly. 'Is this really how they see me? As some lovesick fool who'd come crawling back at the first sign of forgiveness?' she thought. It explained everything—why, for three years, they had shown her phony respect as Lucas's wife while mocking her devotion in private. She had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn't met Lucas seven years ago, if that fateful incident hadn't tied her to him, she would have moved on with her life long ago. "Are you quite done?" Lucas's voice cut through her thoughts as he reached for her arm. She shifted her weight gracefully, letting his hand close on empty air. The rejected gesture hung between them for a beat too long before he withdrew, his features tightening with displeasure. Turning to Emily, who was now dabbing at her eyes, Sophia arched a brow. "There's no need for the waterworks. You're making it look like I'm the one being cruel here." "Sophia, I've treated you like my elder sister. I—" Emily began, trying to defend herself. "Don't," Sophia interrupted, her voice cool. "We arrived minutes apart, and you were first. Let's skip the emotional act." Emily's face turned from pale to deep red as she clenched her jaw in fury. 'Since when has Sophia found this kind of nerve? She used to shrink into silence whenever Lucas was near,' she thought. Despite her three-year absence from the city, Emily had ensured she received every scrap of information about Sophia's life. She knew all about Sophia's pathetic attempts to please Lucas, and she knew exactly how little he cared for his wife. She even knew they kept separate bedrooms, and that on the occasional night Lucas spent with Sophia, he always sent her back to her own room afterward. She knew that to Lucas, Sophia was just a body—convenient, disposable, and utterly unimportant. With a dark expression, Lucas grabbed Sophia's wrist and began pulling her toward the exit. Sophia's answer was a sharp, stinging slap across his cheek. The sound cracked through the air, and a dead silence fell over the room. All eyes were fixed on Sophia in pure shock. Everyone was wondering if she had lost her mind to dare something like that. Lucas slowly worked his jaw, the look in his eyes so dark that it promised retribution. When Sophia resisted, Lucas didn't hesitate. He swept her up onto his shoulder and carried her out of the room. The sight made Emily's heart clench. She'd never seen Lucas be so patient with anyone. Before she knew it, her hand was on his arm. "Lucas..." He didn't turn his head, but some of the tension left his expression. "I'm taking her home," he said firmly. "The driver will return for you when you're ready." Emily could only watch as Lucas walked away with Sophia. She had no right to stop him, but it stung—this was the first time he'd ever left her for another woman, especially one who meant nothing. Her hands tightened at her sides. 'I gave you a chance to walk away quietly, Sophia. You brought this on yourself,' she thought. Sophia's protests echoed down the hallway as she struggled against Lucas's hold. Unsure what was happening between the couple, Annabelle turned away, pretending she hadn't noticed them. Lucas carried Sophia into the elevator and stepped out briskly when it reached the basement level. As the car door opened, Lucas tossed Sophia into the back seat. Struggling upright, she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea from the prolonged time she'd spent upside down. She opened her mouth to curse, but the words died on her lips as the tinted window of a nearby Maybach began to descend. In the shadowy interior, the man's profile was sharp and forbidding. His lips were set in a firm line, and he sat with the imposing stillness of an iceberg, his presence pushing others away. Sensing her gaze, he glanced over, and their eyes locked. Without a word, Sophia averted her gaze and hid her face behind a veil of tangled hair. Chapter 7 Not Her Home Anymore Lucas's black Bentley pulled out of the underground parking garage, but Sophia was still lost in thought about those intense eyes. There was something familiar about them, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen them before. Lucas's voice broke the silence. "Did you follow me here? What are you so concerned about?" "What?" Sophia asked, snapping back to reality. Keeping his eyes on the road, Lucas tried to explain. "You know how my friends are—they never think before they speak. Don't take their words seriously. There's nothing going on between Emily and me." 'If there's really nothing between them, why was he being so protective? He only rushed me out because he was worried I might cause a scene and embarrass Emily,' Sophia thought. "Sure," Sophia said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You and Emily are completely innocent." "I'm trying to explain myself here," Lucas said, his patience wearing thin. "Do you have to be so sarcastic?" Her ungrateful attitude was beginning to irritate him. He remembered how she used to soften at the slightest reassurance. Now, it seemed her patience had worn thin. "Understood," Sophia said, her tone flat. "Is that all?" "I've been clear from the beginning—you are my wife, and that won't change. But if you want this marriage to work, you need to drop your little tricks. I won't play these games." Sophia stayed quiet, struck by his assumption that her mention of divorce was merely a plea for attention. Her silence tightened the air between them. "Don't become someone I resent, Sophia," he said with a frown, his voice low. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips as she turned toward the window, shutting him out completely. Sensing he had pushed too far, Lucas eased his tone. "I had your things moved back to our room. If you want to stay with me, just say so. There's no need for all this." Sophia was left speechless. ***** As the car came to a stop in the courtyard of Nightfall Estate, Sophia stepped out. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the cherry blossom grove in the garden. The sight sent a sharp pang through her chest. She forced her gaze away and continued into the villa. Inside, the decor had been completely redone. The new style, with its unmistakable resemblance to the Evans residence, clearly revealed who had overseen the renovations. She moved through rooms that felt entirely alien to her now, but she kept her thoughts to herself since this was no longer her home. Wendy looked surprised when she saw Sophia. "Mrs. Westwood, you've returned. Have you had your supper?" Sinking into the plush pink sofa, Sophia answered quietly, "Yes, thank you." Wendy offered a tight smile before retreating to her quarters to make a hurried phone call to Helen, reporting the unexpected arrival. Helen had never approved of Sophia, whom she saw as a plain nobody not good enough for her son. The infertility diagnosis hardened Helen's resolve to rush the divorce so Lucas could marry someone worthy of giving her grandchildren. The news of Sophia's sudden return after her dramatic departure kept Helen tossing and turning all night. Lucas had been certain Sophia would confront him about the complete makeover of their home. He stood ready to smooth things over, but she walked through the rooms without comment, her silence leaving him more unsettled than any argument would have. "If the decor isn't to your taste..." Lucas moved to sit beside her, his arms beginning to encircle her. Sophia reached for a throw pillow, tucking it between them as she shifted away from his embrace. The gentle rejection stung, though Lucas reassured himself that this was the same woman who had always adored him. "It's true. I prefer my original choices," she said calmly. "Can you have everything returned to how it was?" The warm, elegant furnishings had vanished, replaced by the overwhelming pinks that Emily favored—a transformation that had turned their home into something resembling a kitschy boutique hotel. Lucas shifted uncomfortably. "Let's not make a big deal out of it. You'll get used to the way things are around here." A faint, knowing smile curved on Sophia's lips as she met his gaze. That smile never failed to get under his skin. "Try to see it from her perspective, Sophia," he said, his voice tightening. "After everything she's been through these past three years, all Emily wants is to feel like she belongs." A wave of exhaustion washed over her. It was like talking to a brick wall. "I know," she said flatly. "You have your entire family backing you up," Lucas shot back, his patience clearly wearing thin. "But Emily? She has nobody else. Is it really so hard for you to be a little more compassionate?" "Funny," Sophia replied, her tone icy. "I was under the impression my adoptive parents were still very much alive." Besides, the Evans family had never once ceased to think about Emily throughout those three years. They made trip after trip to Felarica to celebrate Emily's birthdays and attend her parties. They even missed Sophia's wedding to Lucas because of her. A single social media post from Emily, complaining of her loneliness in Felarica, was all it took for them to drop everything and fly to her side. "Now that you've made it out of that dead-end town, you should be the last person to let Emily sink into it," he shot back. As Sophia looked at him, the last glimmer of hope in her eyes vanished. She knew well enough to stop mentioning divorce. To Lucas, it was just another act—proof that she was the same desperate woman the world thought her to be. If she couldn't get through to Lucas, she was going to find another path. Now, with her infertility diagnosis, she knew Helen would be far more impatient to act on this news. Sophia retreated to the master bedroom. Her possessions had claimed their space, with her clothes occupying half of the vast closet. A sense of normalcy had finally settled between her and Lucas, the kind that belongs to a husband and wife. But it was a fragile peace, already beginning to fray. Lucas was still in the living room when Emily returned. The air around her carried the sharp tang of liquor. Her face was deeply flushed, and she swayed slightly as she walked. He was at her side in an instant, his hand gently steadying her. "You've had far too much to drink," he murmured, his brow furrowed with worry. "This isn't good for you. I don't want to see you like this again." Emily turned into him, her arms finding their way around his neck. "I couldn't help it," she whispered, her voice thick with drink and emotion. "It's the only thing that dulls the ache." Sensing her legs might give way, he simply gathered her into his arms. "Wendy," he said to the housekeeper who had appeared, heading for the stairs. "Would you bring up some electrolyte water for Emily?" "Understood," Wendy replied. Playing the part of the drunken mess, Emily clung to Lucas and sobbed into his chest. "I've always regretted it," she cried. "Letting my pride push you away was the biggest mistake of my life." A long-buried tenderness tugged at Lucas's heart. "Let's try again, Lucas. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice," she whispered, tilting her face up to his. Just as their lips were about to meet, the master bedroom door swung open, and the sudden movement startled the couple in the hallway. Sophia stood in the doorway in her pajamas, watching them with a completely expressionless face. Lucas instantly snapped back to reality, and a rare look of panic flashed across his handsome face. "Sophie, Emily is drunk," he said quickly. "I'm just taking her back to her room." Still draped around him, Emily met Sophia's eyes over Lucas's shoulder. The tears were gone, replaced by a cool, triumphant smirk that held no trace of intoxication. Sophia's mouth curved into a humorless smile as she replied, "Yes, and you're drunk too." Without another word, she stepped back and slammed the door, the turn of the lock echoing decisively behind her. The idea of sleeping next to Lucas made her blood boil. She honestly didn't trust herself to lie beside him all night without her rage getting the better of her. Chapter 8 Divorce Settlement The next morning, as Sophia left her room, the guest room door across the hall opened at the exact same time. Lucas was stepping out, finishing with his tie. He glanced up and went completely still, finding Sophia already watching him from their bedroom doorway. Surprise flashed across his face, and he started with an explanation. "She was a mess last night," he said, his voice low. "I couldn't just leave her." Sophia's eyes dropped to the bright red smudge on his collar. Her eyes were filled with silent scorn as she thought about how filthy it was. She said with icy calm, "Relax, I know perfectly well that nothing would ever happen between you two, even when you don't have a stitch of clothing on." Her words cut off whatever excuse Lucas was about to offer. Anger darkened his features. "Think what you want," he snapped. "My feelings for her are purely brotherly." Sophia's eyes fell to the lipstick stain on his collar again. "So, how does it feel to be so close to your 'sister'?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Following her line of sight, Lucas saw the evidence, and a shadow of guilt crossed his face. "It was an accident," he insisted, his voice tight. "Don't make it sound so sordid." "So filthy," she murmured, shaking her head. As he drew a sharp breath to retaliate, she added with a cold smile, "I mean your shirt." He stared at her, his expression turning to stone. She merely offered a careless shrug and walked away, leaving him fuming in the hallway. Downstairs, Sophia was halfway through her breakfast when her phone vibrated on the table. A quick glance at the screen confirmed it was Helen calling. Just then, Wendy appeared with two additional breakfast plates. Sophia swiped to answer the call, a deliberate smile directed at Wendy. "You're calling so early, Mrs. Westwood." The pointed smile made Wendy's blood run cold, and at the mention of Mrs. Westwood, she was reminded of betraying Sophia by reporting to Helen last night. Stricken with guilt, she almost fumbled the tray. She dropped the plates onto the table and hastily retreated to the safety of the kitchen. A faint, cold smile touched Sophia's lips as Helen's venomous voice filled her ear. "Utterly devoid of manners," Helen sneered. "What else can you expect from someone with such a common background?" Sophia's eyes turned to ice. "Trace any lineage back three generations, Mrs. Westwood, and you'll find humble roots. It's distasteful to scorn your own origins." Helen found herself at a loss for words. Though Lucas's parents both had city roots, his grandparents' generation had all struggled in a backwater. Helen's parents had even lived in a cowshed. So in that regard, Helen was no better than Sophia. "That sharp tongue of yours is exactly why people can't stand you," Helen shot back. Sophia rolled her eyes in contempt. Biting back her anger, Helen forced a calmer tone. "We need to meet. There's a document for you to sign." "What kind of document?" "It'll be clear when you get here." Letting the matter drop, Sophia hung up. As she did, she saw Lucas descending the staircase. He had showered and changed, his hair perfectly styled like a model from the pages of a magazine. She had to admit, he was pleasing to look at. 'With those looks, he certainly has the assets for a career as a gigolo,' Sophia thought wryly. A smug feeling warmed Lucas as her eyes stayed on him. He drew out the chair next to hers and sat down. "Paliston Fashion Week is just around the corner," he offered. "It'll be a good chance for us to get away." In three years of marriage, it was the first time he had ever proposed such a thing. Sophia acknowledged him with a quiet hum, but she felt no spark of happiness or expectation. She saw the offer for what it was—a peace offering, born of the guilt he carried after his betrayal. Her ride showed up shortly after breakfast. Picking up her bag, Sophia walked out the door.
Chapter 1 His First Love Returned Sophia Evans could feel her world beginning to crack the moment she heard the news—the woman her husband, Lucas Westwood, had never gotten over was back. When Sophia arrived at the hotel's VIP suite with a gift, she found Lucas's first love—Emily Evans—being humiliated by his childhood friends. "Lick the wine off my shoe, Emily. I'll give you thirty thousand dollars," one of them said. Emily was forced to kneel on the floor, tears in her defiant eyes as she stared shamefully at Lucas. Lucas watched with a dark expression, saying nothing as he held his temper in check. Sophia halted mid-step, struck by the painful familiarity of the scene. Three years ago, when she had first been welcomed into the Evans family, these same privileged young men had tormented her in exactly the same way to gain Emily's favor. But back then, Lucas hadn't worn this expression of utter heartbreak. "There you are," Lucas said as soon as he spotted Sophia, his arm sliding around her waist in a show of intimacy. Only Sophia could feel the desperate pressure of his grip—a silent testament to the pain he was trying to conceal. Lucas's childhood friends had reserved the entire venue for his birthday celebration. But Sophia had never expected Emily to show up here. Everyone knew Lucas had married Sophia just to spite Emily. Three years ago, Emily's identity as a fake heiress was exposed. She broke up with Lucas then and there and left the Evans family behind. Lucas pursued her to the airport, boarded her departing flight, and forced the plane that had already taken off to turn back. Right there on that plane, he proposed to Emily. To his complete surprise, Emily refused without hesitation, declaring that the arranged marriage should be honored by the Evans family's true heiress. Humiliated and acting out of spite, Lucas married Sophia instead. For three years, Sophia had lived as Emily's stand-in. Everyone whispered that if Emily ever returned, Lucas would discard Sophia without a second thought. Sophia had once believed that too, but something had shifted in these past six months—Lucas seemed to be genuinely falling for her. He made grand declarations of love in the press, showered her with luxury homes and cars, and even replaced the cherry tree he'd planted for Emily with a garden full of red roses. In their most tender moments, he'd whisper against her ear, "Let's have a baby, Sophie. I hope they have your smile." Sophia's hand drifted absently to her stomach as she clutched the gift box a little tighter. Inside was a positive pregnancy test—meant to be Lucas's birthday surprise. But now, the timing of the gift felt all wrong. "You still think you're the Evans family princess, Emily? Lucas only has eyes for Sophia now. Why not be with me? A pretty thing like you deserves to be treated right," one of Lucas's friends, Ryan Shaw, sneered. He dragged Emily onto his lap, his hands already roaming over her. "Get your hands off me!" Emily cried, fighting against Ryan's grip as humiliation burned through her. Her resistance only fueled Ryan's excitement. In one swift motion, he shoved her down onto the couch, his powerful body trapping hers. Horrified that Ryan would assault Emily right in front of Lucas, Sophia jumped up to stop him, only to be shoved aside as Lucas already surged into action. As she stumbled, her hands instinctively reached for Lucas's arm, but he brutally shook her off. She hit the floor hard, a jolt of sharp pain shooting from her tailbone straight to her womb. Through the pain-induced haze, she saw Lucas grab Ryan by the collar, drag him off Emily, and pummel his face with brutal, unforgiving fists. "You've overstepped, Ryan. Emily is mine. Even if I discard her, she'll never be yours to touch," Lucas snapped. His words hung in the air, and the entire room fell silent as if frozen in time. Sophia stared at Lucas in disbelief, wondering where she stood in his life now that he had openly claimed Emily as his woman. All eyes in the room were drawn to the scene. Some watched with malicious delight, while others were simply captivated by the unfolding drama. Doubled over in pain, Sophia felt a warm wetness spreading beneath her. Her face paled as a cold dread gripped her heart. "Honey, my stomach hurts," she turned to Lucas instinctively. "Please, take me to the hospital." Without even glancing her way, Lucas removed his jacket and gently placed it around Emily's shoulders. Nestling into his embrace, Emily whispered, her voice trembling, "Lucas, I'm scared. Please take me away from here." "Don't worry," he murmured, holding her close. "I won't let anyone hurt you." Sweeping Emily into his arms, Lucas carried her out of the room, completely ignoring Sophia's pain-racked form shuddering on the floor. Perched comfortably on his shoulder, Emily gazed down at Sophia's crumpled form on the floor, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. The spectators murmured among themselves, still savoring the drama they'd just witnessed. "Emily's definitely the one for Lucas. He hasn't taken his eyes off her all night." "The way Lucas looks at her... I thought it was hatred, but it's clearly something else entirely." "Who could resist someone like her? I certainly wouldn't be able to stay angry." "Poor Sophia. She was just a side character in their love story." At the mention of Sophia's name, the crowd remembered her presence simultaneously, their attention shifting to where she sat. Sophia was in terrible pain and covered in a cold sweat until someone finally noticed her condition and quickly helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?" the guy asked. She gripped his arm tightly as the room spun around her. "Please take me to the hospital. My stomach hurts terribly," she pleaded. Then everything went dark as she fainted. Through the haze of semi-consciousness, distant screams about blood echoed in her ears. When Sophia regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital room. The sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the air as she lay alone in the quiet ward. A nurse tending to her bandages noticed her awakening. "You're awake," she said softly. Sophia's voice came out weak and fearful. "My baby... Is my baby alright?" "Your baby is fine," the nurse reassured her. "But you'll need to take special care. These first few months are particularly delicate in your condition." Relief washed over Sophia as grateful tears fell. "Thank you," she whispered, overwhelmed that her child was safe. Through the emotional turmoil, Sophia's first thought was to share the news with Lucas immediately. Wiping her tears, she reached for her phone and dialed his number. The phone rang several times before Lucas finally picked up. His voice was edged with impatience as he answered, "Not coming home tonight. Don't wait—" "Lucas, my hair's caught in this zipper," Emily's voice interrupted, floating through the line. "Could you give me a hand?" Sophia's knuckles went white around her phone. "Be right there," he said. The call ended before Sophia could form a response. Overnight, things between her and Lucas had reverted to how they were six months ago. Back then, he'd been all cold shoulders and sharp tones. Even in their most intimate moments, he treated her like just another need to be met. To him, she might as well have been a stranger—or worse, just a convenient body. So when he finally let his guard down, she'd been so grateful for the warmth that she fell harder than she ever meant to. She thought her years of longing had finally paid off. But reality slapped her senseless when Lucas chose Emily's safety over their own child's life. After being discharged from the hospital, Sophia caught a taxi home. Midway through the ride, her phone buzzed with a Twitter alert. It was a tweet from Emily: [You told me you'd hold my hand and never let go—not for the rest of our lives.] The attached photo showed Emily dressed like a princess, complete with a tiny crown, her hand locked tightly with a larger, elegant hand. Around the wrist was a bracelet made of prayer beads—the very one Sophia had prayed for in a church last year, when Lucas was burning up with fever. That day, he squeezed her hand and whispered a promise that he would never leave her side. Chapter 2 Ask Him For A Divorce The taxi stopped outside the Nightfall Estate, where Sophia paid the fare and got out of the vehicle. She was just heading inside when a truck carrying young cherry trees rumbled up the drive and stopped near the garden. Workers carefully unloaded the cherry trees and settled them into the prepared holes. Where a vibrant sea of red roses had bloomed just yesterday, now only upturned earth remained, with the plants piled carelessly to the side. A dull ache spread through Sophia's chest as she gazed at the rose petals strewn like crimson tears across the soil. The familiar purr of a luxury car engine approached from behind. Turning around, Sophia saw Lucas step out of the car. He stood tall and straight, radiating a natural air of calm elegance. "Honey..." Sophia began, but the words died on her lips as he leaned back into the car. With gentle care, he helped a woman step out—it was Emily, who looked radiant in an exquisite designer ensemble that made her complexion glow. Only when Emily was steady did Lucas's gaze finally meet Sophia's, those usually warm eyes now regarding her with detached indifference. "Did you need something?" he asked, his tone flat. The cold unfamiliarity in his look struck Sophia's heart like a physical blow. "Why are you tearing out the roses when they were growing so well?" she asked, desperate for his explanation. Those roses had been his special way of confessing his feelings to her. Lucas barely glanced at the destroyed garden. "Emily's not feeling well. She'll be staying with us for a bit." "What does that have to do with the roses?" she pressed. "She's allergic to the pollen," he said curtly, already turning to guide Emily inside. Sophia stood rooted to the spot, her heart breaking. Emily's delicate voice carried through the air. "Lucas, Sophia seems upset. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have complained about the roses." "She doesn't matter to me," Lucas reassured her. "But I worry she'll resent me. Really, I can manage with allergy medication," Emily offered, her voice dripping with false concern. "Medication always has side effects. Don't suggest things that worry me," he replied. Sophia stood motionless as she watched their figures grow smaller in the distance. A silent tear traced its way down her cheek while overwhelming sorrow washed over her. 'I don't matter to him... Yeah, right,' Sophia murmured with bitter irony, the truth of the words settling like a weight in her heart. He hadn't even asked about her absence last night, and now he had ordered her favorite roses to be torn out. The message was clear—she meant less to him than the slightest thought of Emily. For three years, she had devoted herself to him, offering unwavering love and comfort through difficult times. She had believed her constant warmth could thaw even the coldest heart, but Emily's reappearance had erased everything in an instant. She wondered what their intimacy these past six months had truly meant, and what role she had actually played in his life. A sudden twinge in her lower abdomen made her catch her breath. Pale and unsteady, she turned toward the villa. As Sophia stepped into the living room, she saw Emily nestled against Lucas on the sofa, watching with affectionate amusement as he peeled an orange for her. Lucas gently picked away every bit of white pith from the orange segments before arranging them on a plate for Emily. "For you," he said with a soft smile. "Enjoy, my little foodie." As Emily took the plate, she noticed Sophia entering the room. A triumphant smile graced her lips as she called out, "Sophia, would you like some? Lucas peeled these himself. Something you've never experienced, I'm sure." Sophia's gaze fell upon the perfectly prepared orange segments, and she felt a sudden sting behind her eyes. The painful truth was that in all their time together, Lucas had never once peeled an orange for her. She had always been the one serving him. The realization struck her with perfect clarity—Lucas knew well how to be thoughtful, but he simply reserved his kindness for Emily. Sophia felt her heart breaking into pieces as she finally understood how painful comparison could be. "She's perfectly capable of peeling her own fruit," Lucas said dismissively, barely glancing at Sophia. Then he noticed her pale complexion and added, "Are you alright? You look terribly pale." Sophia's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she debated telling Lucas her secret pregnancy. A fragile hope whispered within her—that this truth might finally soften his heart toward her. "I..." Her voice faltered, the words dying on her lips. "If you're ill, see a doctor. This pathetic act is getting tiresome," Lucas said, impatience flashing across his handsome features. He was annoyed by her wounded expression, which seemed to suggest she was the victim of some terrible injustice. Sophia swallowed her unspoken words, her gaze lingering on the man who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. "I'm fine," she murmured. "I'll just go to my room." As she turned toward the staircase, Lucas felt a surge of irritation. 'I must've been too lenient with her, and now she dared to show me attitude,' he thought, fuming. Sophia had only climbed a few steps when the housekeeper, Wendy, appeared descending the stairs with servants carrying boxes. The items looked familiar, but it was the sight of her stuffed doll in Wendy's arms that made Sophia realize everything they carried was hers. In a swift motion, she stepped forward and snatched the doll. Her voice turned icy as she asked, "Wendy, care to explain this?" "Mr. Westwood's orders," Wendy said quietly. "You're to move to the storage room downstairs." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, leaving her mind reeling. She turned to Lucas, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious." They'd already maintained separate bedrooms, but she never imagined that she'd be banished to a storage room instead of even being offered the guest suite after Emily's return. For a fleeting moment under her gaze, Lucas felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly hardened into resolve. "Emily needs the sunroom for her health," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your room gets the best light. It's better for her recovery." The absurdity of it all drew a bitter laugh from Sophia's lips. She thought his previous cruelty—shoving her while pregnant and replacing her roses with Emily's cherry trees—had been the worst it could get. But this new humiliation surpassed even that. All Lucas had done since Emily's return yesterday was talk about her. In just one day, she had turned Sophia's whole life upside down. Sophia expected to feel rage, but instead found only a hollow emptiness settling in her chest. 'Look at him, Sophia,' Sophia thought bitterly. 'This is the man you gave your heart and soul to. Was any of it worth it?' "If you're so worried about her comfort, why not just move her into your room? The master suite gets the best light anyway," Sophia shot back. Lucas responded sharply, "Sophia, you need to watch your tone." Emily's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I know you don't want me here, Sophia. I'll go. Please don't fight with Lucas over me." Sophia saw right through Emily's act. A humorless laugh escaped her as she spat, "You're not going anywhere. I am." Tightening her grip on the stuffed doll, she turned and headed for the door. "Don't you dare, Sophia." Lucas rose to his feet, his voice cutting through the room. "Walk out that door now, and don't expect to ever come back." Sophia's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "I'll make sure you receive the divorce papers," she said, her voice cold and steady. "See that you sign them." "You're asking me for a divorce?" Lucas's voice was low, thick with barely restrained fury. He added, his tone edged with contempt, "Have you forgotten who gave you this life, Sophia? The luxury, the status—all of it came from me. Without my name, you're just that wide-eyed girl fresh off that forgotten little town. You don't get to leave." Chapter 3 The Replaced Medical Result Sophia didn't need to look back to know the condescending smirk that was surely on Lucas's face. She knew he had always despised her. His proposal three years ago had been motivated only by a desire to fulfill the marriage agreement between their families and to exact revenge on Emily. She had been naive enough to believe his empty promises, offering him her genuine love when he saw her as nothing more than a pawn. To him, she would always be a leech, clinging to his wealth and name for survival. But now, she had reached her limit, and she no longer wanted him in her life. Sophia walked out without a backward glance. As she stepped through the gateway, the sound of shattering porcelain echoed behind her, but she no longer cared. Lucas stood amid the shattered remains, fingers pressed to his temples. His face was a mask of simmering anger. He dismissed the mention of divorce as just another one of her calculated moves, a transparent attempt to get his attention by pulling away. Emily watched him hesitantly. "Maybe I shouldn't be staying here, Lucas. Sophia seemed really upset." "It's nothing," Lucas replied evenly. Seeing how the mention of divorce had affected him, she suggested softly, "You could go after her. Women usually respond well to a little reassurance." "I don't have time for that," Lucas said, turning toward the staircase. With a business trip looming, his mind was elsewhere. 'Let her make a scene if she wants to,' he thought. 'She'll cool off and come crawling back. She always does.' ***** Sophia's home was a beautiful 3,200-square-foot apartment with an open-concept layout and sleek modern decor—all paid for with her own earnings. In her study, she printed the divorce papers and a letter resigning from her position. With a steady hand, she signed both, and then summoned a courier to deliver them directly to the Westwood Group. When she married Lucas three years ago, Sophia had joined his company, hoping to build a genuine connection with him. She started at the very bottom as an assistant and gradually earned her way up to department manager. She had wanted nothing more than to be close to him—in their home and at work. But in the end, her efforts were met with cold indifference. Gazing downward, Sophia softly cradled her stomach. "It's just us now, little one," she whispered. The courier arrived at Westwood headquarters while Lucas was away. His chief executive assistant, Kevin Chapman, received the delivery and signed. The moment Kevin saw the contents, he reached for the phone, dialing Lucas's number in haste. "Mr. Westwood, your wife has sent divorce documents." "Burn it all." On the other side of the ocean, Lucas loosened his tie as an unexpected wave of irritation came over him. "But Mrs. Westwood has even submitted her resignation letter..." Kevin replied, his tone hesitant. "She can't survive without this family." The blue flame from Lucas's lighter highlighted the grim set of his features. "Let her be. She'll come crawling back once reality sets in." Meanwhile, Sophia remained completely unaware of his words. Her morning had begun with a call from her mother-in-law, Helen Westwood. "Where are you? Return at once," Helen commanded in her typically imperious manner, leaving no room for discussion. Complying, Sophia drove back to the estate. No sooner had she stepped inside than a velvet box came hurling toward her head, which she narrowly avoided by stepping aside. Helen's shrill voice pierced the air. "How dare you avoid that? You've got some nerve." Sophia's gaze fell upon the velvet box at her feet, and suddenly, she understood why it seemed familiar. She remembered purchasing that exact box to store her pregnancy test results. On Lucas's birthday, she had intended to present it to him as a gift, but he had accidentally pushed her before she could give it to him, resulting in her hospitalization. Her heart leaped as she turned to face Helen's livid expression. 'Could she know about the pregnancy? But something about her reaction seems strange,' she wondered. For three years, Helen had made no secret of her disapproval of Sophia, someone raised in a small town. Yet every time Sophia visited the Westwood residence with Lucas, Helen would consistently nag Sophia about starting a family soon. If Helen knew Sophia was pregnant, she was supposed to be absolutely delighted instead of reacting like this. Helen clutched a medical report, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared down Sophia. "For three years, I've watched your marriage to Lucas, wondering why you never conceived. Now I understand—he married a barren woman. "If you hadn't left this at the hotel and Lucas's friend hadn't been kind enough to deliver it, I'd still be in the dark about your condition." Heart pounding with shock, Sophia ignored Helen's murderous gaze and snatched the document from her hand. The clinical report lay cold and pale in the morning light. There was her name, clearly printed, alongside the devastating diagnosis: "permanent infertility." 'Permanent infertility? But that's impossible. I'm pregnant. Someone must have switched my test results. But who would do such a thing?' Sophia wondered. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "This isn't my..." Emily, who had remained silent until now, suddenly interrupted, "Sophia, the Westwood lineage has been passed down through a single heir for ten generations. Are you trying to ensure Lucas dies without an heir? To extinguish the family line completely?" "How utterly heartless!" Helen exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Sophia as her anger reached its peak. "We've welcomed you with open arms since you married into this family. Yet you've been hiding this from us? To think you'd let our family line die out—it's truly despicable!" she added. Sophia didn't even attempt to explain herself. If they wanted to believe she was barren, so be it—it would only simplify the divorce proceedings. "I only received the results two days ago. I hadn't found the right moment to share the news," Sophia replied, her voice calm. "This wasn't about finding the right moment. You did this intentionally," Helen retorted, her face contorted with rage. "And you planned to give this to Lucas as a gift? What kind of twisted mind would conceive such a thing?" Sophia maintained her silence. Helen took a measured breath, forcing her anger down. "If you can't conceive naturally, I won't hold it against you. I've spoken with Emily, and she's agreed to donate her eggs so you and Lucas can pursue in vitro fertilization." Sophia stared in disbelief at the unexpected turn. "Could you repeat that?" She believed she had misheard because the suggestion was both preposterous and deeply offensive. "If you can't conceive, that's your problem. Emily is being extraordinarily generous by offering her eggs. The least you could do is show some appreciation instead of this ingratitude," Helen sneered. A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. "Perhaps you'd like to accept this generous offer yourself?" "How dare you speak to me like that!" Helen's eyes flashed with fury. "Sophia, you shouldn't speak to Mrs. Westwood that way. She was suggesting that for your sake," Emily said in a honeyed tone, reaching for the glass. As she moved, she made certain to display the prayer beads circling her delicate wrist. Sophia's breath caught—she would recognize the bracelet anywhere. That was the very ones she had sacrificed so much to obtain while praying for Lucas's recovery. It felt like a personal insult, seeing the bracelet that symbolized her love for Lucas now clasped around Emily's wrist. "For my sake?" Sophia repeated, the words tasting bitter as she caught the sly glint of satisfaction in Emily's eyes. It sent a sharp ache through her. She knew this game all too well. Emily had a gift for twisting people's vulnerabilities to her advantage, a lesson Sophia had learned the hard way three years ago. "I'm infertile. What possible use could I have for your eggs?" Sophia asked, her voice cold. "Do you really think I need a constant reminder of what I can't have?" Emily's smile vanished. For Helen's benefit, she bit her lip, her eyes instantly welling with feigned hurt. "Mrs. Westwood," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "I was only trying to help Sophia." Helen immediately comforted Emily by patting her hand. She then shot Sophia a disapproving look. "How can you be so selfish, Sophia? Are you really determined to let the Westwood family line die out?" Sophia gestured dismissively toward Emily. "Well, if she's so fertile, let her handle the baby-making." The thought of Emily getting to be a mother the easy way turned Sophia's stomach. Chapter 4 Take Back Her Things The color drained from both Helen's and Emily's faces. Helen stepped forward, jabbing a finger toward Sophia. "You think you're better than us? Then you give the Westwood family an heir. Don't blame anyone else for your own useless womb." Sophia bit back the sharp retort on her tongue. She was done with this family, done with Lucas. Arguing now would only prolong the inevitable. "Mrs. Westwood," she began, "I've decided—" Lucas's familiar, deep voice cut through the tension from the doorway. "Decided what?" Sophia turned to see Lucas standing there, his clothes rumpled from travel. His assistant, Kevin, hovered behind him with a suitcase in hand. The air in the room was thick with tension, so Kevin knew better than to stay. He simply left the suitcase by the door and made a quick exit. Loosening his tie, Lucas turned to Helen. "Mom, what brings you here?" "If I hadn't come, you'd have let our family name die out," Helen shot back. She then snatched the medical report from Sophia and flung it at Lucas's chest. "See for yourself," she said coldly, and with that, she swept out of the room. Lucas looked down at the document in his hands, and the words "permanent infertility" caused a faint twitch in his brow. His eyes, when they finally lifted to meet Sophia's, were devoid of warmth. "You'll go back to the hospital tomorrow for a full work-up. I will not have a wife who can't give me an heir." A hollow ache spread through Sophia's chest. Any foolish hope she'd been clinging to finally faded. Lucas had never defended her in three years of his mother's constant belittlement. And now, the ease with which he believed this lie revealed the chilling truth of his character. "I have the divorce papers right here," Sophia said, pulling the documents from her bag. She extended them toward him, her voice steady. "Just sign them, and you'll never have to see me again." Lucas didn't even look at the papers. In one swift motion, his hand closed around her throat, pulling her close. He leaned in until his face was mere inches from hers, and she could feel his warm breath and smell the familiar scent of his cologne. There was a time when this closeness would have made her heart flutter. Now, it only made her skin crawl. It was amazing how easy it was to walk away when all the love had drained away. "Sophia, have I been too soft with you?" Lucas's voice was thick with contempt. "Where exactly do you think you'll go without my protection?" She held his gaze without flinching. "That's really none of your concern anymore." "Still got that sharp tongue," he sneered. He released her with a dismissive shove, as if her defiance meant nothing. "Go make me dinner. I'm hungry." A wave of pain shot through Sophia's lower abdomen as she sank into the sofa, her skin turning clammy with an instant, cold sweat. Across the room, Emily slid her arm through Lucas's with practiced ease. "Don't let Sophia bother you," she murmured. "Her little scene was just a cry for your attention." Lucas pulled his tie free, his stern expression melting away as he focused on Emily. "How are you holding up?" he asked, his tone gentler. "I'm fine," she sighed, putting on a pitiful face. "It's just that the medicine is so awfully bitter." "It's bitter because it's strong. You need to keep taking it," he reminded her. "I picked up those candies you like. They're in my suitcase. Go get them yourself." "I know you always look out for me," Emily said, stretching up to press a light kiss to Lucas's cheek. "Consider that your reward." A look of quiet satisfaction crossed his features at the gesture. "I'm going up to shower," he said. "Go ahead," Emily said sweetly, fluttering a wave at him. She waited until Lucas's footsteps faded up the staircase before turning to the suitcase. They carried on as if Sophia weren't standing right there in the same room. Humming cheerfully, Emily unzipped the luggage. Alongside Lucas's neatly folded clothes sat a jar of shimmering candies and an elegant red velvet box that clearly held something valuable. Her eyes skipped over the candy, going straight to the velvet box. When she lifted the lid, a pink diamond necklace lay gleaming, its facets scattering rainbows in the light. "Oh, it's exquisite. I love it," she whispered, her eyes widening. "So the candy was just a decoy. This necklace is what he really wanted me to find." Draping the necklace against her collarbone, Emily turned to face Sophia, who had risen from the sofa. "Well, Sophia? Don't you think it suits me perfectly?" The pink diamond necklace around Emily's neck struck Sophia as oddly familiar. It came to her a moment later—she had coveted it last month while flipping through a magazine. Lucas had seen her fascination and promised to get it for her. The catch was its exclusivity—a single piece, sourced from Melaria, the country where Lucas had been attending to business. "That was for me," Sophia said, her voice calm. The man was disposable, but her possessions were not. She would reclaim what was rightfully hers. With a swift motion, Emily clasped the necklace. "Finders keepers," she said with a mocking grin. Sophia approached for a closer look. Though the necklace was more exquisite than its photograph, any desire for it had vanished. A wary look crossed Emily's face. "What is this about?" "To take what belongs to me, of course," Sophia said, stepping close and extending her hand. "It's time you returned it." Emily's hands instinctively flew to the diamond necklace at her throat. "Lucas will never stand for this, Sophia. You know what I mean to him." Sophia almost laughed. She knew well that Emily held a special place in Lucas's heart. But that was irrelevant. She was only claiming what was hers. "Give the bracelet back to me," Sophia said coldly. It was a token earned through true devotion, and she wouldn't let its significance be tarnished. Realizing Sophia only wanted the simple bracelet, Emily smiled condescendingly. 'Some shortsighted people have no taste,' she thought. Emily twisted the bracelet around her wrist. "I heard you went to Grace Abbey to beg for this good-luck charm," she said. "You are so hung up on him, aren't you?" The hypocrisy of her words was almost laughable. "Give it back," Sophia said, her voice like ice. Emily's eyes flickered to a point behind Sophia, and a sly smile touched her lips. She lowered her voice. "If you want it so badly, why don't you come and take it?" Sophia didn't stop to think. She grabbed Emily's wrist and tugged the bracelet free. The moment it was off, Emily's demeanor shifted completely. "Sophia, what are you doing?" she cried out, her voice suddenly loud and panicked. "Lucas gave this to me." Before Sophia could even turn around, a powerful hand seized her by the collar and hauled her backwards. The fabric dug sharply into her throat, stealing her breath. Stumbling to regain her footing, Sophia looked up to see Lucas. He was already cradling Emily. "Emily, are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern. Emily buried her face in his chest. "I'm fine," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Please, don't be angry with Sophia. She didn't mean it." Lucas's jaw tightened, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. He took a deep breath and fixed Sophia with an icy stare. "Apologize to Emily." Chapter 5 She Wants A Clean Break A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. She had fooled herself into thinking she was numb to Lucas's coldness. But his command still sent a fresh, sharp pain through her chest. She knew there was no point arguing with a man who had already chosen the other woman's side. "I won't apologize," Sophia said, her fist closing tightly around the bracelet. "What for?" Emily looked up at Lucas with well-practiced vulnerability. "I'm causing trouble here, Lucas. I should go." Lucas caught her wrist before she could take a second step. "You're staying right here." His attention snapped back to Sophia, his expression darkening. "Now, Sophia, apologize to Emily." The room blurred as tears filled Sophia's eyes, twisting his familiar face into a stranger's. She lifted the simple bracelet between them. "This is my stuff in the first place. Since when is taking back what was stolen a crime?" "Your stuff? Since when do you have anything of your own?" Lucas's lips curled in a sneer. "I've paid for every stitch of clothing on your back." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, forcing a bitter laugh from her lips. He knew perfectly well she earned her own living, yet he took every opportunity to demean her. "This bracelet came from Grace Abbey," she countered, her voice trembling. "You didn't pay a cent for it." Lucas's eyes dropped to the simple beads in her palm. "You think I care about some cheap bracelet?" he scoffed. Hot tears streamed down Sophia's face without warning. Wiping them away, Sophia made a silent vow—this would be the last time he reduced her to this. "Fine!" With one sharp motion, she snapped the bracelet's cord, sending beads skittering across the floor. Lucas watched the scattered beads come to rest, his hand curling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. He knew how much that bracelet meant to her, but the moment Emily wanted it, he didn't hesitate to take it off and hand it over. Lucas's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "Sophia!" "I want a divorce," Sophia said, her voice eerily calm. As she opened her hand, the last bead from the bracelet clattered onto the floor between them. "Let's just end this." The sound was small, but in the tense silence, it was deafening, echoing in Lucas's mind. He let out a short laugh, his gaze locked on her. "You think a threat will work? You should know better than that by now." 'This has to be a ploy,' he thought to himself. 'She loves me too much to go through with it. She has accepted her role as Emily's replacement from the beginning and has never once tried to leave. 'She would never have the strength to walk away from me.' "Go make us something to eat, and we can forget this ever happened." Lucas was certain he had thrown Sophia a lifeline. He waited, fully expecting her to be overcome with relief and scurry off to the kitchen. He'd been away on business, and days of unfamiliar rich food had left his stomach unsettled. What he craved was Sophia's cooking—simple, hearty food that tasted like home. It was a flavor he couldn't find anywhere else. "You can go eat your ass," Sophia shot back. She picked up her bag, her lips twisting into a scornful smile, and walked out without a backward glance. That smile grated on Lucas's nerves more than the insult itself. In his frustration, his eyes fell on the string of prayer beads lying scattered on the floor, and he gave them an impatient kick. 'So that's her game. She wants to challenge me? I'd like to see just how long her resolve will hold,' he thought, fuming. ***** Sophia sped away from Nightfall Estate, her phone buzzing relentlessly on the passenger seat. Lucas's name flashed across the screen again and again until she finally grabbed it and blocked his number for good. When she looked up at the road, she blinked, her vision blurring for a moment. She braced for the familiar sting of tears, but when her fingers touched her skin, it was dry. It was only then that she noticed the soft patter against the windshield. A fine drizzle had begun to fall, and a quiet melancholy settled over her, as gray as the sky. Up ahead, the flickering hazard lights of a sleek black car broke the rhythm of the rain. A man in a soaked suit, looking to be in his forties, stood beside it, waving frantically at passing traffic. Almost without conscious thought, Sophia found herself flipping on her turn signal and pulling over. She rolled down her window as the man rushed over. "Everything okay?" she asked. "It's my boss," the man said, his voice tight with panic. "He's having a heart attack. The ambulance is stuck in a multi-car accident. Please, can you take us to the hospital?" Sophia hesitated. Letting two strange men into her car, especially in this weather, felt dangerous. Every cautionary tale she'd ever heard flashed through her mind. Seeing her hesitation, the man added urgently, "I promise we're not dangerous. My boss is—" But Sophia was already moving, cutting the engine and stepping out into the downpour. "Just get him to my car, now," she called out as she rushed toward their vehicle. As she got closer, she recognized the distinctive emblem of the black Maybach. Working together, they carefully transferred the elderly man from the luxury sedan into Sophia's more modest car. The old man's lips were tinged with blue, and each ragged breath seemed like a struggle, clear signs of his critical condition. Sliding behind the wheel, Sophia started the car and pulled back onto the road, pushing through the veils of rain. In the backseat, the middle-aged man was a whirlwind of activity on his phone, coordinating with a hospital and alerting the family. Beyond the windows, the storm seemed to intensify, as if trying to match the urgency inside the car. After ensuring everything was in place, the man turned to Sophia with heartfelt appreciation. "You're the only one who stopped in this downpour. We can't thank you enough." A warm smile touched Sophia's lips. "Some things are just meant to be." ***** Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital entrance where medical staff stood ready. The team swiftly transferred the elderly man to a stretcher and hurried him inside for emergency care. Just as Sophia was about to drive away, she spotted a lone leather shoe in the backseat—the one the elderly man had been wearing. After a moment's hesitation, she parked properly and carried the shoe to the reception desk, logging it as a lost item. Sophia was just turning to leave when a group emerged from the hospital's main entrance. At the front of the group was a man whose height and posture commanded attention. He turned his sharp gaze on her, and the intensity in his eyes was so commanding that it felt like a physical pressure. 'That frown means trouble,' Sophia thought. She averted her gaze and continued walking, brushing past the group without a second look. It wasn't until she was back in the driver's seat that she felt the chill of her wet clothes clinging to her skin. As she dried her hair with a towel from the backseat, a notification popped up on her phone while she was opening the navigation app. It was a post from Emily: [Nothing says 'forever' like a soft-boiled egg made with love! My ultimate comfort food.] The post featured two photos—one showed a soft-boiled egg with a ketchup heart, and the other captured a tall man's back as he stood at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Sophia couldn't help but compare. When she was with Lucas, he had acted like even pouring her a glass of water was a significant concession. Cooking a meal was utterly out of the question. The fact that he was now cooking for Emily spoke volumes about where his true affections lay. She closed the page and entered her apartment address into the navigation system before driving out of the parking lot. As she watched the heavy rain outside, a single decisive thought crystallized in her mind—this marriage was over. Chapter 6 Return The Trash To The Dumpster That evening, a text came through from Annabelle Quinn, Sophia's best friend since college, insisting they go out to a lounge. The old Sophia would have declined immediately, conditioned to obey Lucas's rule about her not going out. But now that Sophia was divorcing him, his opinions held no weight. ***** The moment Sophia stepped out of the car, she saw Annabelle waiting by the entrance. "Hope you haven't been waiting long," she said as she approached. "Just got here," Annabelle grinned, looping her arm through Sophia's. "So, what's the special occasion? Did you finally get a night off from your sweetheart?" Sophia struggled to find the words, but she couldn't keep it from her best friend. "I'm getting a divorce," she finally said. "Let me guess," Annabelle said, not one to mince words in front of her best friend. "This is about Emily being back, isn't it?" "It's not just that," Sophia admitted, her voice quiet. It just took seeing the difference for herself to truly see how little her three years of effort had meant. Annabelle threw a supportive arm around Sophia's shoulders. "You should have woken up to this a long time ago." For three years, she had watched Sophia lose herself in a hollow relationship, and it killed Annabelle to see her friend throw everything away for a man who never appreciated her. "Better late than never," Sophia offered with a weak smile. "Damn right it is," Annabelle declared. "Tonight, I'm getting us the best male models in town. You deserve some real attention." They ascended into the pulsating heart of the club, pushing through the glittering crowd toward the exclusive booth Annabelle had booked. As they moved past the entrance to a private booth, a burst of laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway. Amid the noise, Sophia's own name caught her sharp ear. "Got to hand it to Lucas. The minute Emily was back, he moved her right in. Word is, he showed Sophia the door." "Well, she had it coming. Play the simp, and you lose it all. Seriously though, that night in the booth with all the blood? I truly thought a tragedy had occurred, but it was probably just her period." "You're thinking about that? Man, have you had a thing for Sophia all along?" "Who'd pine after some nobody from a backwater? Only Lucas, with his unique preferences, would stick around for three years." "Guess the novelty wore off. Time for a change." Standing in the hallway, Sophia felt a cold stillness settle behind her eyes. The voices clicked into place—Lucas's oldest friends. They had been there that night, spectators to her most shameful moment. Annabelle's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind." But as she moved toward the door, Sophia stopped her with a gentle hand. "This is my battle to fight," Sophia said firmly. With that, Sophia pushed the door open and swept into the room. She settled gracefully onto the sofa, joining their conversation with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you're talking about unique preferences, I top him," she began, her voice deceptively light, "I recycled what Emily threw away. But it looks like I did everyone a favor by returning the trash to the dumpster where it belongs." A stunned silence fell over the room. Every face on the circular sofa stared at her in horrified fascination. Unbeknownst to Sophia, two figures had entered the room behind her during her speech. The guests' eyes darted nervously between Sophia and the newcomers, the air thickening with tension. There stood Lucas and Emily, their expressions dark as storm clouds. Their presence made Sophia turn. Her eyes instantly met the cold, dark stare of Lucas. But she didn't back down. A defiant shrug lifted her shoulders. "Look what the cat dragged in. My trash husband." Emily's eyes instantly glistened with tears. "Sophia, ignore them," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "It's all lies. Lucas and I are just friends." As if to prove her point, she clutched Lucas's arm. "Tell her, Lucas. Make her understand there's nothing going on between us." Sophia's gaze dropped to the hand clinging to Lucas's arm, and a faint, derisive smile touched her mouth. 'Just friends? Did she really expect anyone to believe that?' she thought bitterly. Lucas detached himself from Emily's grip and closed the distance between him and Sophia. The motion broke the tension, stirring his friends into action. "Hey, Lucas, take it easy," one of them said, stepping forward. "She's just reacting to our stupid jokes." "Come on, Sophia, just say you're sorry to Lucas," another one urged. "You know he'll forgive you." The suggestion made Sophia want to laugh bitterly. 'Is this really how they see me? As some lovesick fool who'd come crawling back at the first sign of forgiveness?' she thought. It explained everything—why, for three years, they had shown her phony respect as Lucas's wife while mocking her devotion in private. She had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn't met Lucas seven years ago, if that fateful incident hadn't tied her to him, she would have moved on with her life long ago. "Are you quite done?" Lucas's voice cut through her thoughts as he reached for her arm. She shifted her weight gracefully, letting his hand close on empty air. The rejected gesture hung between them for a beat too long before he withdrew, his features tightening with displeasure. Turning to Emily, who was now dabbing at her eyes, Sophia arched a brow. "There's no need for the waterworks. You're making it look like I'm the one being cruel here." "Sophia, I've treated you like my elder sister. I—" Emily began, trying to defend herself. "Don't," Sophia interrupted, her voice cool. "We arrived minutes apart, and you were first. Let's skip the emotional act." Emily's face turned from pale to deep red as she clenched her jaw in fury. 'Since when has Sophia found this kind of nerve? She used to shrink into silence whenever Lucas was near,' she thought. Despite her three-year absence from the city, Emily had ensured she received every scrap of information about Sophia's life. She knew all about Sophia's pathetic attempts to please Lucas, and she knew exactly how little he cared for his wife. She even knew they kept separate bedrooms, and that on the occasional night Lucas spent with Sophia, he always sent her back to her own room afterward. She knew that to Lucas, Sophia was just a body—convenient, disposable, and utterly unimportant. With a dark expression, Lucas grabbed Sophia's wrist and began pulling her toward the exit. Sophia's answer was a sharp, stinging slap across his cheek. The sound cracked through the air, and a dead silence fell over the room. All eyes were fixed on Sophia in pure shock. Everyone was wondering if she had lost her mind to dare something like that. Lucas slowly worked his jaw, the look in his eyes so dark that it promised retribution. When Sophia resisted, Lucas didn't hesitate. He swept her up onto his shoulder and carried her out of the room. The sight made Emily's heart clench. She'd never seen Lucas be so patient with anyone. Before she knew it, her hand was on his arm. "Lucas..." He didn't turn his head, but some of the tension left his expression. "I'm taking her home," he said firmly. "The driver will return for you when you're ready." Emily could only watch as Lucas walked away with Sophia. She had no right to stop him, but it stung—this was the first time he'd ever left her for another woman, especially one who meant nothing. Her hands tightened at her sides. 'I gave you a chance to walk away quietly, Sophia. You brought this on yourself,' she thought. Sophia's protests echoed down the hallway as she struggled against Lucas's hold. Unsure what was happening between the couple, Annabelle turned away, pretending she hadn't noticed them. Lucas carried Sophia into the elevator and stepped out briskly when it reached the basement level. As the car door opened, Lucas tossed Sophia into the back seat. Struggling upright, she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea from the prolonged time she'd spent upside down. She opened her mouth to curse, but the words died on her lips as the tinted window of a nearby Maybach began to descend. In the shadowy interior, the man's profile was sharp and forbidding. His lips were set in a firm line, and he sat with the imposing stillness of an iceberg, his presence pushing others away. Sensing her gaze, he glanced over, and their eyes locked. Without a word, Sophia averted her gaze and hid her face behind a veil of tangled hair. Chapter 7 Not Her Home Anymore Lucas's black Bentley pulled out of the underground parking garage, but Sophia was still lost in thought about those intense eyes. There was something familiar about them, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen them before. Lucas's voice broke the silence. "Did you follow me here? What are you so concerned about?" "What?" Sophia asked, snapping back to reality. Keeping his eyes on the road, Lucas tried to explain. "You know how my friends are—they never think before they speak. Don't take their words seriously. There's nothing going on between Emily and me." 'If there's really nothing between them, why was he being so protective? He only rushed me out because he was worried I might cause a scene and embarrass Emily,' Sophia thought. "Sure," Sophia said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You and Emily are completely innocent." "I'm trying to explain myself here," Lucas said, his patience wearing thin. "Do you have to be so sarcastic?" Her ungrateful attitude was beginning to irritate him. He remembered how she used to soften at the slightest reassurance. Now, it seemed her patience had worn thin. "Understood," Sophia said, her tone flat. "Is that all?" "I've been clear from the beginning—you are my wife, and that won't change. But if you want this marriage to work, you need to drop your little tricks. I won't play these games." Sophia stayed quiet, struck by his assumption that her mention of divorce was merely a plea for attention. Her silence tightened the air between them. "Don't become someone I resent, Sophia," he said with a frown, his voice low. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips as she turned toward the window, shutting him out completely. Sensing he had pushed too far, Lucas eased his tone. "I had your things moved back to our room. If you want to stay with me, just say so. There's no need for all this." Sophia was left speechless. ***** As the car came to a stop in the courtyard of Nightfall Estate, Sophia stepped out. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the cherry blossom grove in the garden. The sight sent a sharp pang through her chest. She forced her gaze away and continued into the villa. Inside, the decor had been completely redone. The new style, with its unmistakable resemblance to the Evans residence, clearly revealed who had overseen the renovations. She moved through rooms that felt entirely alien to her now, but she kept her thoughts to herself since this was no longer her home. Wendy looked surprised when she saw Sophia. "Mrs. Westwood, you've returned. Have you had your supper?" Sinking into the plush pink sofa, Sophia answered quietly, "Yes, thank you." Wendy offered a tight smile before retreating to her quarters to make a hurried phone call to Helen, reporting the unexpected arrival. Helen had never approved of Sophia, whom she saw as a plain nobody not good enough for her son. The infertility diagnosis hardened Helen's resolve to rush the divorce so Lucas could marry someone worthy of giving her grandchildren. The news of Sophia's sudden return after her dramatic departure kept Helen tossing and turning all night. Lucas had been certain Sophia would confront him about the complete makeover of their home. He stood ready to smooth things over, but she walked through the rooms without comment, her silence leaving him more unsettled than any argument would have. "If the decor isn't to your taste..." Lucas moved to sit beside her, his arms beginning to encircle her. Sophia reached for a throw pillow, tucking it between them as she shifted away from his embrace. The gentle rejection stung, though Lucas reassured himself that this was the same woman who had always adored him. "It's true. I prefer my original choices," she said calmly. "Can you have everything returned to how it was?" The warm, elegant furnishings had vanished, replaced by the overwhelming pinks that Emily favored—a transformation that had turned their home into something resembling a kitschy boutique hotel. Lucas shifted uncomfortably. "Let's not make a big deal out of it. You'll get used to the way things are around here." A faint, knowing smile curved on Sophia's lips as she met his gaze. That smile never failed to get under his skin. "Try to see it from her perspective, Sophia," he said, his voice tightening. "After everything she's been through these past three years, all Emily wants is to feel like she belongs." A wave of exhaustion washed over her. It was like talking to a brick wall. "I know," she said flatly. "You have your entire family backing you up," Lucas shot back, his patience clearly wearing thin. "But Emily? She has nobody else. Is it really so hard for you to be a little more compassionate?" "Funny," Sophia replied, her tone icy. "I was under the impression my adoptive parents were still very much alive." Besides, the Evans family had never once ceased to think about Emily throughout those three years. They made trip after trip to Felarica to celebrate Emily's birthdays and attend her parties. They even missed Sophia's wedding to Lucas because of her. A single social media post from Emily, complaining of her loneliness in Felarica, was all it took for them to drop everything and fly to her side. "Now that you've made it out of that dead-end town, you should be the last person to let Emily sink into it," he shot back. As Sophia looked at him, the last glimmer of hope in her eyes vanished. She knew well enough to stop mentioning divorce. To Lucas, it was just another act—proof that she was the same desperate woman the world thought her to be. If she couldn't get through to Lucas, she was going to find another path. Now, with her infertility diagnosis, she knew Helen would be far more impatient to act on this news. Sophia retreated to the master bedroom. Her possessions had claimed their space, with her clothes occupying half of the vast closet. A sense of normalcy had finally settled between her and Lucas, the kind that belongs to a husband and wife. But it was a fragile peace, already beginning to fray. Lucas was still in the living room when Emily returned. The air around her carried the sharp tang of liquor. Her face was deeply flushed, and she swayed slightly as she walked. He was at her side in an instant, his hand gently steadying her. "You've had far too much to drink," he murmured, his brow furrowed with worry. "This isn't good for you. I don't want to see you like this again." Emily turned into him, her arms finding their way around his neck. "I couldn't help it," she whispered, her voice thick with drink and emotion. "It's the only thing that dulls the ache." Sensing her legs might give way, he simply gathered her into his arms. "Wendy," he said to the housekeeper who had appeared, heading for the stairs. "Would you bring up some electrolyte water for Emily?" "Understood," Wendy replied. Playing the part of the drunken mess, Emily clung to Lucas and sobbed into his chest. "I've always regretted it," she cried. "Letting my pride push you away was the biggest mistake of my life." A long-buried tenderness tugged at Lucas's heart. "Let's try again, Lucas. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice," she whispered, tilting her face up to his. Just as their lips were about to meet, the master bedroom door swung open, and the sudden movement startled the couple in the hallway. Sophia stood in the doorway in her pajamas, watching them with a completely expressionless face. Lucas instantly snapped back to reality, and a rare look of panic flashed across his handsome face. "Sophie, Emily is drunk," he said quickly. "I'm just taking her back to her room." Still draped around him, Emily met Sophia's eyes over Lucas's shoulder. The tears were gone, replaced by a cool, triumphant smirk that held no trace of intoxication. Sophia's mouth curved into a humorless smile as she replied, "Yes, and you're drunk too." Without another word, she stepped back and slammed the door, the turn of the lock echoing decisively behind her. The idea of sleeping next to Lucas made her blood boil. She honestly didn't trust herself to lie beside him all night without her rage getting the better of her. Chapter 8 Divorce Settlement The next morning, as Sophia left her room, the guest room door across the hall opened at the exact same time. Lucas was stepping out, finishing with his tie. He glanced up and went completely still, finding Sophia already watching him from their bedroom doorway. Surprise flashed across his face, and he started with an explanation. "She was a mess last night," he said, his voice low. "I couldn't just leave her." Sophia's eyes dropped to the bright red smudge on his collar. Her eyes were filled with silent scorn as she thought about how filthy it was. She said with icy calm, "Relax, I know perfectly well that nothing would ever happen between you two, even when you don't have a stitch of clothing on." Her words cut off whatever excuse Lucas was about to offer. Anger darkened his features. "Think what you want," he snapped. "My feelings for her are purely brotherly." Sophia's eyes fell to the lipstick stain on his collar again. "So, how does it feel to be so close to your 'sister'?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Following her line of sight, Lucas saw the evidence, and a shadow of guilt crossed his face. "It was an accident," he insisted, his voice tight. "Don't make it sound so sordid." "So filthy," she murmured, shaking her head. As he drew a sharp breath to retaliate, she added with a cold smile, "I mean your shirt." He stared at her, his expression turning to stone. She merely offered a careless shrug and walked away, leaving him fuming in the hallway. Downstairs, Sophia was halfway through her breakfast when her phone vibrated on the table. A quick glance at the screen confirmed it was Helen calling. Just then, Wendy appeared with two additional breakfast plates. Sophia swiped to answer the call, a deliberate smile directed at Wendy. "You're calling so early, Mrs. Westwood." The pointed smile made Wendy's blood run cold, and at the mention of Mrs. Westwood, she was reminded of betraying Sophia by reporting to Helen last night. Stricken with guilt, she almost fumbled the tray. She dropped the plates onto the table and hastily retreated to the safety of the kitchen. A faint, cold smile touched Sophia's lips as Helen's venomous voice filled her ear. "Utterly devoid of manners," Helen sneered. "What else can you expect from someone with such a common background?" Sophia's eyes turned to ice. "Trace any lineage back three generations, Mrs. Westwood, and you'll find humble roots. It's distasteful to scorn your own origins." Helen found herself at a loss for words. Though Lucas's parents both had city roots, his grandparents' generation had all struggled in a backwater. Helen's parents had even lived in a cowshed. So in that regard, Helen was no better than Sophia. "That sharp tongue of yours is exactly why people can't stand you," Helen shot back. Sophia rolled her eyes in contempt. Biting back her anger, Helen forced a calmer tone. "We need to meet. There's a document for you to sign." "What kind of document?" "It'll be clear when you get here." Letting the matter drop, Sophia hung up. As she did, she saw Lucas descending the staircase. He had showered and changed, his hair perfectly styled like a model from the pages of a magazine. She had to admit, he was pleasing to look at. 'With those looks, he certainly has the assets for a career as a gigolo,' Sophia thought wryly. A smug feeling warmed Lucas as her eyes stayed on him. He drew out the chair next to hers and sat down. "Paliston Fashion Week is just around the corner," he offered. "It'll be a good chance for us to get away." In three years of marriage, it was the first time he had ever proposed such a thing. Sophia acknowledged him with a quiet hum, but she felt no spark of happiness or expectation. She saw the offer for what it was—a peace offering, born of the guilt he carried after his betrayal. Her ride showed up shortly after breakfast. Picking up her bag, Sophia walked out the door.
Chapter 1 His First Love Returned Sophia Evans could feel her world beginning to crack the moment she heard the news—the woman her husband, Lucas Westwood, had never gotten over was back. When Sophia arrived at the hotel's VIP suite with a gift, she found Lucas's first love—Emily Evans—being humiliated by his childhood friends. "Lick the wine off my shoe, Emily. I'll give you thirty thousand dollars," one of them said. Emily was forced to kneel on the floor, tears in her defiant eyes as she stared shamefully at Lucas. Lucas watched with a dark expression, saying nothing as he held his temper in check. Sophia halted mid-step, struck by the painful familiarity of the scene. Three years ago, when she had first been welcomed into the Evans family, these same privileged young men had tormented her in exactly the same way to gain Emily's favor. But back then, Lucas hadn't worn this expression of utter heartbreak. "There you are," Lucas said as soon as he spotted Sophia, his arm sliding around her waist in a show of intimacy. Only Sophia could feel the desperate pressure of his grip—a silent testament to the pain he was trying to conceal. Lucas's childhood friends had reserved the entire venue for his birthday celebration. But Sophia had never expected Emily to show up here. Everyone knew Lucas had married Sophia just to spite Emily. Three years ago, Emily's identity as a fake heiress was exposed. She broke up with Lucas then and there and left the Evans family behind. Lucas pursued her to the airport, boarded her departing flight, and forced the plane that had already taken off to turn back. Right there on that plane, he proposed to Emily. To his complete surprise, Emily refused without hesitation, declaring that the arranged marriage should be honored by the Evans family's true heiress. Humiliated and acting out of spite, Lucas married Sophia instead. For three years, Sophia had lived as Emily's stand-in. Everyone whispered that if Emily ever returned, Lucas would discard Sophia without a second thought. Sophia had once believed that too, but something had shifted in these past six months—Lucas seemed to be genuinely falling for her. He made grand declarations of love in the press, showered her with luxury homes and cars, and even replaced the cherry tree he'd planted for Emily with a garden full of red roses. In their most tender moments, he'd whisper against her ear, "Let's have a baby, Sophie. I hope they have your smile." Sophia's hand drifted absently to her stomach as she clutched the gift box a little tighter. Inside was a positive pregnancy test—meant to be Lucas's birthday surprise. But now, the timing of the gift felt all wrong. "You still think you're the Evans family princess, Emily? Lucas only has eyes for Sophia now. Why not be with me? A pretty thing like you deserves to be treated right," one of Lucas's friends, Ryan Shaw, sneered. He dragged Emily onto his lap, his hands already roaming over her. "Get your hands off me!" Emily cried, fighting against Ryan's grip as humiliation burned through her. Her resistance only fueled Ryan's excitement. In one swift motion, he shoved her down onto the couch, his powerful body trapping hers. Horrified that Ryan would assault Emily right in front of Lucas, Sophia jumped up to stop him, only to be shoved aside as Lucas already surged into action. As she stumbled, her hands instinctively reached for Lucas's arm, but he brutally shook her off. She hit the floor hard, a jolt of sharp pain shooting from her tailbone straight to her womb. Through the pain-induced haze, she saw Lucas grab Ryan by the collar, drag him off Emily, and pummel his face with brutal, unforgiving fists. "You've overstepped, Ryan. Emily is mine. Even if I discard her, she'll never be yours to touch," Lucas snapped. His words hung in the air, and the entire room fell silent as if frozen in time. Sophia stared at Lucas in disbelief, wondering where she stood in his life now that he had openly claimed Emily as his woman. All eyes in the room were drawn to the scene. Some watched with malicious delight, while others were simply captivated by the unfolding drama. Doubled over in pain, Sophia felt a warm wetness spreading beneath her. Her face paled as a cold dread gripped her heart. "Honey, my stomach hurts," she turned to Lucas instinctively. "Please, take me to the hospital." Without even glancing her way, Lucas removed his jacket and gently placed it around Emily's shoulders. Nestling into his embrace, Emily whispered, her voice trembling, "Lucas, I'm scared. Please take me away from here." "Don't worry," he murmured, holding her close. "I won't let anyone hurt you." Sweeping Emily into his arms, Lucas carried her out of the room, completely ignoring Sophia's pain-racked form shuddering on the floor. Perched comfortably on his shoulder, Emily gazed down at Sophia's crumpled form on the floor, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. The spectators murmured among themselves, still savoring the drama they'd just witnessed. "Emily's definitely the one for Lucas. He hasn't taken his eyes off her all night." "The way Lucas looks at her... I thought it was hatred, but it's clearly something else entirely." "Who could resist someone like her? I certainly wouldn't be able to stay angry." "Poor Sophia. She was just a side character in their love story." At the mention of Sophia's name, the crowd remembered her presence simultaneously, their attention shifting to where she sat. Sophia was in terrible pain and covered in a cold sweat until someone finally noticed her condition and quickly helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?" the guy asked. She gripped his arm tightly as the room spun around her. "Please take me to the hospital. My stomach hurts terribly," she pleaded. Then everything went dark as she fainted. Through the haze of semi-consciousness, distant screams about blood echoed in her ears. When Sophia regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital room. The sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the air as she lay alone in the quiet ward. A nurse tending to her bandages noticed her awakening. "You're awake," she said softly. Sophia's voice came out weak and fearful. "My baby... Is my baby alright?" "Your baby is fine," the nurse reassured her. "But you'll need to take special care. These first few months are particularly delicate in your condition." Relief washed over Sophia as grateful tears fell. "Thank you," she whispered, overwhelmed that her child was safe. Through the emotional turmoil, Sophia's first thought was to share the news with Lucas immediately. Wiping her tears, she reached for her phone and dialed his number. The phone rang several times before Lucas finally picked up. His voice was edged with impatience as he answered, "Not coming home tonight. Don't wait—" "Lucas, my hair's caught in this zipper," Emily's voice interrupted, floating through the line. "Could you give me a hand?" Sophia's knuckles went white around her phone. "Be right there," he said. The call ended before Sophia could form a response. Overnight, things between her and Lucas had reverted to how they were six months ago. Back then, he'd been all cold shoulders and sharp tones. Even in their most intimate moments, he treated her like just another need to be met. To him, she might as well have been a stranger—or worse, just a convenient body. So when he finally let his guard down, she'd been so grateful for the warmth that she fell harder than she ever meant to. She thought her years of longing had finally paid off. But reality slapped her senseless when Lucas chose Emily's safety over their own child's life. After being discharged from the hospital, Sophia caught a taxi home. Midway through the ride, her phone buzzed with a Twitter alert. It was a tweet from Emily: [You told me you'd hold my hand and never let go—not for the rest of our lives.] The attached photo showed Emily dressed like a princess, complete with a tiny crown, her hand locked tightly with a larger, elegant hand. Around the wrist was a bracelet made of prayer beads—the very one Sophia had prayed for in a church last year, when Lucas was burning up with fever. That day, he squeezed her hand and whispered a promise that he would never leave her side. Chapter 2 Ask Him For A Divorce The taxi stopped outside the Nightfall Estate, where Sophia paid the fare and got out of the vehicle. She was just heading inside when a truck carrying young cherry trees rumbled up the drive and stopped near the garden. Workers carefully unloaded the cherry trees and settled them into the prepared holes. Where a vibrant sea of red roses had bloomed just yesterday, now only upturned earth remained, with the plants piled carelessly to the side. A dull ache spread through Sophia's chest as she gazed at the rose petals strewn like crimson tears across the soil. The familiar purr of a luxury car engine approached from behind. Turning around, Sophia saw Lucas step out of the car. He stood tall and straight, radiating a natural air of calm elegance. "Honey..." Sophia began, but the words died on her lips as he leaned back into the car. With gentle care, he helped a woman step out—it was Emily, who looked radiant in an exquisite designer ensemble that made her complexion glow. Only when Emily was steady did Lucas's gaze finally meet Sophia's, those usually warm eyes now regarding her with detached indifference. "Did you need something?" he asked, his tone flat. The cold unfamiliarity in his look struck Sophia's heart like a physical blow. "Why are you tearing out the roses when they were growing so well?" she asked, desperate for his explanation. Those roses had been his special way of confessing his feelings to her. Lucas barely glanced at the destroyed garden. "Emily's not feeling well. She'll be staying with us for a bit." "What does that have to do with the roses?" she pressed. "She's allergic to the pollen," he said curtly, already turning to guide Emily inside. Sophia stood rooted to the spot, her heart breaking. Emily's delicate voice carried through the air. "Lucas, Sophia seems upset. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have complained about the roses." "She doesn't matter to me," Lucas reassured her. "But I worry she'll resent me. Really, I can manage with allergy medication," Emily offered, her voice dripping with false concern. "Medication always has side effects. Don't suggest things that worry me," he replied. Sophia stood motionless as she watched their figures grow smaller in the distance. A silent tear traced its way down her cheek while overwhelming sorrow washed over her. 'I don't matter to him... Yeah, right,' Sophia murmured with bitter irony, the truth of the words settling like a weight in her heart. He hadn't even asked about her absence last night, and now he had ordered her favorite roses to be torn out. The message was clear—she meant less to him than the slightest thought of Emily. For three years, she had devoted herself to him, offering unwavering love and comfort through difficult times. She had believed her constant warmth could thaw even the coldest heart, but Emily's reappearance had erased everything in an instant. She wondered what their intimacy these past six months had truly meant, and what role she had actually played in his life. A sudden twinge in her lower abdomen made her catch her breath. Pale and unsteady, she turned toward the villa. As Sophia stepped into the living room, she saw Emily nestled against Lucas on the sofa, watching with affectionate amusement as he peeled an orange for her. Lucas gently picked away every bit of white pith from the orange segments before arranging them on a plate for Emily. "For you," he said with a soft smile. "Enjoy, my little foodie." As Emily took the plate, she noticed Sophia entering the room. A triumphant smile graced her lips as she called out, "Sophia, would you like some? Lucas peeled these himself. Something you've never experienced, I'm sure." Sophia's gaze fell upon the perfectly prepared orange segments, and she felt a sudden sting behind her eyes. The painful truth was that in all their time together, Lucas had never once peeled an orange for her. She had always been the one serving him. The realization struck her with perfect clarity—Lucas knew well how to be thoughtful, but he simply reserved his kindness for Emily. Sophia felt her heart breaking into pieces as she finally understood how painful comparison could be. "She's perfectly capable of peeling her own fruit," Lucas said dismissively, barely glancing at Sophia. Then he noticed her pale complexion and added, "Are you alright? You look terribly pale." Sophia's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she debated telling Lucas her secret pregnancy. A fragile hope whispered within her—that this truth might finally soften his heart toward her. "I..." Her voice faltered, the words dying on her lips. "If you're ill, see a doctor. This pathetic act is getting tiresome," Lucas said, impatience flashing across his handsome features. He was annoyed by her wounded expression, which seemed to suggest she was the victim of some terrible injustice. Sophia swallowed her unspoken words, her gaze lingering on the man who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. "I'm fine," she murmured. "I'll just go to my room." As she turned toward the staircase, Lucas felt a surge of irritation. 'I must've been too lenient with her, and now she dared to show me attitude,' he thought, fuming. Sophia had only climbed a few steps when the housekeeper, Wendy, appeared descending the stairs with servants carrying boxes. The items looked familiar, but it was the sight of her stuffed doll in Wendy's arms that made Sophia realize everything they carried was hers. In a swift motion, she stepped forward and snatched the doll. Her voice turned icy as she asked, "Wendy, care to explain this?" "Mr. Westwood's orders," Wendy said quietly. "You're to move to the storage room downstairs." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, leaving her mind reeling. She turned to Lucas, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious." They'd already maintained separate bedrooms, but she never imagined that she'd be banished to a storage room instead of even being offered the guest suite after Emily's return. For a fleeting moment under her gaze, Lucas felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly hardened into resolve. "Emily needs the sunroom for her health," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your room gets the best light. It's better for her recovery." The absurdity of it all drew a bitter laugh from Sophia's lips. She thought his previous cruelty—shoving her while pregnant and replacing her roses with Emily's cherry trees—had been the worst it could get. But this new humiliation surpassed even that. All Lucas had done since Emily's return yesterday was talk about her. In just one day, she had turned Sophia's whole life upside down. Sophia expected to feel rage, but instead found only a hollow emptiness settling in her chest. 'Look at him, Sophia,' Sophia thought bitterly. 'This is the man you gave your heart and soul to. Was any of it worth it?' "If you're so worried about her comfort, why not just move her into your room? The master suite gets the best light anyway," Sophia shot back. Lucas responded sharply, "Sophia, you need to watch your tone." Emily's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I know you don't want me here, Sophia. I'll go. Please don't fight with Lucas over me." Sophia saw right through Emily's act. A humorless laugh escaped her as she spat, "You're not going anywhere. I am." Tightening her grip on the stuffed doll, she turned and headed for the door. "Don't you dare, Sophia." Lucas rose to his feet, his voice cutting through the room. "Walk out that door now, and don't expect to ever come back." Sophia's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "I'll make sure you receive the divorce papers," she said, her voice cold and steady. "See that you sign them." "You're asking me for a divorce?" Lucas's voice was low, thick with barely restrained fury. He added, his tone edged with contempt, "Have you forgotten who gave you this life, Sophia? The luxury, the status—all of it came from me. Without my name, you're just that wide-eyed girl fresh off that forgotten little town. You don't get to leave." Chapter 3 The Replaced Medical Result Sophia didn't need to look back to know the condescending smirk that was surely on Lucas's face. She knew he had always despised her. His proposal three years ago had been motivated only by a desire to fulfill the marriage agreement between their families and to exact revenge on Emily. She had been naive enough to believe his empty promises, offering him her genuine love when he saw her as nothing more than a pawn. To him, she would always be a leech, clinging to his wealth and name for survival. But now, she had reached her limit, and she no longer wanted him in her life. Sophia walked out without a backward glance. As she stepped through the gateway, the sound of shattering porcelain echoed behind her, but she no longer cared. Lucas stood amid the shattered remains, fingers pressed to his temples. His face was a mask of simmering anger. He dismissed the mention of divorce as just another one of her calculated moves, a transparent attempt to get his attention by pulling away. Emily watched him hesitantly. "Maybe I shouldn't be staying here, Lucas. Sophia seemed really upset." "It's nothing," Lucas replied evenly. Seeing how the mention of divorce had affected him, she suggested softly, "You could go after her. Women usually respond well to a little reassurance." "I don't have time for that," Lucas said, turning toward the staircase. With a business trip looming, his mind was elsewhere. 'Let her make a scene if she wants to,' he thought. 'She'll cool off and come crawling back. She always does.' ***** Sophia's home was a beautiful 3,200-square-foot apartment with an open-concept layout and sleek modern decor—all paid for with her own earnings. In her study, she printed the divorce papers and a letter resigning from her position. With a steady hand, she signed both, and then summoned a courier to deliver them directly to the Westwood Group. When she married Lucas three years ago, Sophia had joined his company, hoping to build a genuine connection with him. She started at the very bottom as an assistant and gradually earned her way up to department manager. She had wanted nothing more than to be close to him—in their home and at work. But in the end, her efforts were met with cold indifference. Gazing downward, Sophia softly cradled her stomach. "It's just us now, little one," she whispered. The courier arrived at Westwood headquarters while Lucas was away. His chief executive assistant, Kevin Chapman, received the delivery and signed. The moment Kevin saw the contents, he reached for the phone, dialing Lucas's number in haste. "Mr. Westwood, your wife has sent divorce documents." "Burn it all." On the other side of the ocean, Lucas loosened his tie as an unexpected wave of irritation came over him. "But Mrs. Westwood has even submitted her resignation letter..." Kevin replied, his tone hesitant. "She can't survive without this family." The blue flame from Lucas's lighter highlighted the grim set of his features. "Let her be. She'll come crawling back once reality sets in." Meanwhile, Sophia remained completely unaware of his words. Her morning had begun with a call from her mother-in-law, Helen Westwood. "Where are you? Return at once," Helen commanded in her typically imperious manner, leaving no room for discussion. Complying, Sophia drove back to the estate. No sooner had she stepped inside than a velvet box came hurling toward her head, which she narrowly avoided by stepping aside. Helen's shrill voice pierced the air. "How dare you avoid that? You've got some nerve." Sophia's gaze fell upon the velvet box at her feet, and suddenly, she understood why it seemed familiar. She remembered purchasing that exact box to store her pregnancy test results. On Lucas's birthday, she had intended to present it to him as a gift, but he had accidentally pushed her before she could give it to him, resulting in her hospitalization. Her heart leaped as she turned to face Helen's livid expression. 'Could she know about the pregnancy? But something about her reaction seems strange,' she wondered. For three years, Helen had made no secret of her disapproval of Sophia, someone raised in a small town. Yet every time Sophia visited the Westwood residence with Lucas, Helen would consistently nag Sophia about starting a family soon. If Helen knew Sophia was pregnant, she was supposed to be absolutely delighted instead of reacting like this. Helen clutched a medical report, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared down Sophia. "For three years, I've watched your marriage to Lucas, wondering why you never conceived. Now I understand—he married a barren woman. "If you hadn't left this at the hotel and Lucas's friend hadn't been kind enough to deliver it, I'd still be in the dark about your condition." Heart pounding with shock, Sophia ignored Helen's murderous gaze and snatched the document from her hand. The clinical report lay cold and pale in the morning light. There was her name, clearly printed, alongside the devastating diagnosis: "permanent infertility." 'Permanent infertility? But that's impossible. I'm pregnant. Someone must have switched my test results. But who would do such a thing?' Sophia wondered. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "This isn't my..." Emily, who had remained silent until now, suddenly interrupted, "Sophia, the Westwood lineage has been passed down through a single heir for ten generations. Are you trying to ensure Lucas dies without an heir? To extinguish the family line completely?" "How utterly heartless!" Helen exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Sophia as her anger reached its peak. "We've welcomed you with open arms since you married into this family. Yet you've been hiding this from us? To think you'd let our family line die out—it's truly despicable!" she added. Sophia didn't even attempt to explain herself. If they wanted to believe she was barren, so be it—it would only simplify the divorce proceedings. "I only received the results two days ago. I hadn't found the right moment to share the news," Sophia replied, her voice calm. "This wasn't about finding the right moment. You did this intentionally," Helen retorted, her face contorted with rage. "And you planned to give this to Lucas as a gift? What kind of twisted mind would conceive such a thing?" Sophia maintained her silence. Helen took a measured breath, forcing her anger down. "If you can't conceive naturally, I won't hold it against you. I've spoken with Emily, and she's agreed to donate her eggs so you and Lucas can pursue in vitro fertilization." Sophia stared in disbelief at the unexpected turn. "Could you repeat that?" She believed she had misheard because the suggestion was both preposterous and deeply offensive. "If you can't conceive, that's your problem. Emily is being extraordinarily generous by offering her eggs. The least you could do is show some appreciation instead of this ingratitude," Helen sneered. A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. "Perhaps you'd like to accept this generous offer yourself?" "How dare you speak to me like that!" Helen's eyes flashed with fury. "Sophia, you shouldn't speak to Mrs. Westwood that way. She was suggesting that for your sake," Emily said in a honeyed tone, reaching for the glass. As she moved, she made certain to display the prayer beads circling her delicate wrist. Sophia's breath caught—she would recognize the bracelet anywhere. That was the very ones she had sacrificed so much to obtain while praying for Lucas's recovery. It felt like a personal insult, seeing the bracelet that symbolized her love for Lucas now clasped around Emily's wrist. "For my sake?" Sophia repeated, the words tasting bitter as she caught the sly glint of satisfaction in Emily's eyes. It sent a sharp ache through her. She knew this game all too well. Emily had a gift for twisting people's vulnerabilities to her advantage, a lesson Sophia had learned the hard way three years ago. "I'm infertile. What possible use could I have for your eggs?" Sophia asked, her voice cold. "Do you really think I need a constant reminder of what I can't have?" Emily's smile vanished. For Helen's benefit, she bit her lip, her eyes instantly welling with feigned hurt. "Mrs. Westwood," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "I was only trying to help Sophia." Helen immediately comforted Emily by patting her hand. She then shot Sophia a disapproving look. "How can you be so selfish, Sophia? Are you really determined to let the Westwood family line die out?" Sophia gestured dismissively toward Emily. "Well, if she's so fertile, let her handle the baby-making." The thought of Emily getting to be a mother the easy way turned Sophia's stomach. Chapter 4 Take Back Her Things The color drained from both Helen's and Emily's faces. Helen stepped forward, jabbing a finger toward Sophia. "You think you're better than us? Then you give the Westwood family an heir. Don't blame anyone else for your own useless womb." Sophia bit back the sharp retort on her tongue. She was done with this family, done with Lucas. Arguing now would only prolong the inevitable. "Mrs. Westwood," she began, "I've decided—" Lucas's familiar, deep voice cut through the tension from the doorway. "Decided what?" Sophia turned to see Lucas standing there, his clothes rumpled from travel. His assistant, Kevin, hovered behind him with a suitcase in hand. The air in the room was thick with tension, so Kevin knew better than to stay. He simply left the suitcase by the door and made a quick exit. Loosening his tie, Lucas turned to Helen. "Mom, what brings you here?" "If I hadn't come, you'd have let our family name die out," Helen shot back. She then snatched the medical report from Sophia and flung it at Lucas's chest. "See for yourself," she said coldly, and with that, she swept out of the room. Lucas looked down at the document in his hands, and the words "permanent infertility" caused a faint twitch in his brow. His eyes, when they finally lifted to meet Sophia's, were devoid of warmth. "You'll go back to the hospital tomorrow for a full work-up. I will not have a wife who can't give me an heir." A hollow ache spread through Sophia's chest. Any foolish hope she'd been clinging to finally faded. Lucas had never defended her in three years of his mother's constant belittlement. And now, the ease with which he believed this lie revealed the chilling truth of his character. "I have the divorce papers right here," Sophia said, pulling the documents from her bag. She extended them toward him, her voice steady. "Just sign them, and you'll never have to see me again." Lucas didn't even look at the papers. In one swift motion, his hand closed around her throat, pulling her close. He leaned in until his face was mere inches from hers, and she could feel his warm breath and smell the familiar scent of his cologne. There was a time when this closeness would have made her heart flutter. Now, it only made her skin crawl. It was amazing how easy it was to walk away when all the love had drained away. "Sophia, have I been too soft with you?" Lucas's voice was thick with contempt. "Where exactly do you think you'll go without my protection?" She held his gaze without flinching. "That's really none of your concern anymore." "Still got that sharp tongue," he sneered. He released her with a dismissive shove, as if her defiance meant nothing. "Go make me dinner. I'm hungry." A wave of pain shot through Sophia's lower abdomen as she sank into the sofa, her skin turning clammy with an instant, cold sweat. Across the room, Emily slid her arm through Lucas's with practiced ease. "Don't let Sophia bother you," she murmured. "Her little scene was just a cry for your attention." Lucas pulled his tie free, his stern expression melting away as he focused on Emily. "How are you holding up?" he asked, his tone gentler. "I'm fine," she sighed, putting on a pitiful face. "It's just that the medicine is so awfully bitter." "It's bitter because it's strong. You need to keep taking it," he reminded her. "I picked up those candies you like. They're in my suitcase. Go get them yourself." "I know you always look out for me," Emily said, stretching up to press a light kiss to Lucas's cheek. "Consider that your reward." A look of quiet satisfaction crossed his features at the gesture. "I'm going up to shower," he said. "Go ahead," Emily said sweetly, fluttering a wave at him. She waited until Lucas's footsteps faded up the staircase before turning to the suitcase. They carried on as if Sophia weren't standing right there in the same room. Humming cheerfully, Emily unzipped the luggage. Alongside Lucas's neatly folded clothes sat a jar of shimmering candies and an elegant red velvet box that clearly held something valuable. Her eyes skipped over the candy, going straight to the velvet box. When she lifted the lid, a pink diamond necklace lay gleaming, its facets scattering rainbows in the light. "Oh, it's exquisite. I love it," she whispered, her eyes widening. "So the candy was just a decoy. This necklace is what he really wanted me to find." Draping the necklace against her collarbone, Emily turned to face Sophia, who had risen from the sofa. "Well, Sophia? Don't you think it suits me perfectly?" The pink diamond necklace around Emily's neck struck Sophia as oddly familiar. It came to her a moment later—she had coveted it last month while flipping through a magazine. Lucas had seen her fascination and promised to get it for her. The catch was its exclusivity—a single piece, sourced from Melaria, the country where Lucas had been attending to business. "That was for me," Sophia said, her voice calm. The man was disposable, but her possessions were not. She would reclaim what was rightfully hers. With a swift motion, Emily clasped the necklace. "Finders keepers," she said with a mocking grin. Sophia approached for a closer look. Though the necklace was more exquisite than its photograph, any desire for it had vanished. A wary look crossed Emily's face. "What is this about?" "To take what belongs to me, of course," Sophia said, stepping close and extending her hand. "It's time you returned it." Emily's hands instinctively flew to the diamond necklace at her throat. "Lucas will never stand for this, Sophia. You know what I mean to him." Sophia almost laughed. She knew well that Emily held a special place in Lucas's heart. But that was irrelevant. She was only claiming what was hers. "Give the bracelet back to me," Sophia said coldly. It was a token earned through true devotion, and she wouldn't let its significance be tarnished. Realizing Sophia only wanted the simple bracelet, Emily smiled condescendingly. 'Some shortsighted people have no taste,' she thought. Emily twisted the bracelet around her wrist. "I heard you went to Grace Abbey to beg for this good-luck charm," she said. "You are so hung up on him, aren't you?" The hypocrisy of her words was almost laughable. "Give it back," Sophia said, her voice like ice. Emily's eyes flickered to a point behind Sophia, and a sly smile touched her lips. She lowered her voice. "If you want it so badly, why don't you come and take it?" Sophia didn't stop to think. She grabbed Emily's wrist and tugged the bracelet free. The moment it was off, Emily's demeanor shifted completely. "Sophia, what are you doing?" she cried out, her voice suddenly loud and panicked. "Lucas gave this to me." Before Sophia could even turn around, a powerful hand seized her by the collar and hauled her backwards. The fabric dug sharply into her throat, stealing her breath. Stumbling to regain her footing, Sophia looked up to see Lucas. He was already cradling Emily. "Emily, are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern. Emily buried her face in his chest. "I'm fine," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Please, don't be angry with Sophia. She didn't mean it." Lucas's jaw tightened, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. He took a deep breath and fixed Sophia with an icy stare. "Apologize to Emily." Chapter 5 She Wants A Clean Break A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. She had fooled herself into thinking she was numb to Lucas's coldness. But his command still sent a fresh, sharp pain through her chest. She knew there was no point arguing with a man who had already chosen the other woman's side. "I won't apologize," Sophia said, her fist closing tightly around the bracelet. "What for?" Emily looked up at Lucas with well-practiced vulnerability. "I'm causing trouble here, Lucas. I should go." Lucas caught her wrist before she could take a second step. "You're staying right here." His attention snapped back to Sophia, his expression darkening. "Now, Sophia, apologize to Emily." The room blurred as tears filled Sophia's eyes, twisting his familiar face into a stranger's. She lifted the simple bracelet between them. "This is my stuff in the first place. Since when is taking back what was stolen a crime?" "Your stuff? Since when do you have anything of your own?" Lucas's lips curled in a sneer. "I've paid for every stitch of clothing on your back." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, forcing a bitter laugh from her lips. He knew perfectly well she earned her own living, yet he took every opportunity to demean her. "This bracelet came from Grace Abbey," she countered, her voice trembling. "You didn't pay a cent for it." Lucas's eyes dropped to the simple beads in her palm. "You think I care about some cheap bracelet?" he scoffed. Hot tears streamed down Sophia's face without warning. Wiping them away, Sophia made a silent vow—this would be the last time he reduced her to this. "Fine!" With one sharp motion, she snapped the bracelet's cord, sending beads skittering across the floor. Lucas watched the scattered beads come to rest, his hand curling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. He knew how much that bracelet meant to her, but the moment Emily wanted it, he didn't hesitate to take it off and hand it over. Lucas's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "Sophia!" "I want a divorce," Sophia said, her voice eerily calm. As she opened her hand, the last bead from the bracelet clattered onto the floor between them. "Let's just end this." The sound was small, but in the tense silence, it was deafening, echoing in Lucas's mind. He let out a short laugh, his gaze locked on her. "You think a threat will work? You should know better than that by now." 'This has to be a ploy,' he thought to himself. 'She loves me too much to go through with it. She has accepted her role as Emily's replacement from the beginning and has never once tried to leave. 'She would never have the strength to walk away from me.' "Go make us something to eat, and we can forget this ever happened." Lucas was certain he had thrown Sophia a lifeline. He waited, fully expecting her to be overcome with relief and scurry off to the kitchen. He'd been away on business, and days of unfamiliar rich food had left his stomach unsettled. What he craved was Sophia's cooking—simple, hearty food that tasted like home. It was a flavor he couldn't find anywhere else. "You can go eat your ass," Sophia shot back. She picked up her bag, her lips twisting into a scornful smile, and walked out without a backward glance. That smile grated on Lucas's nerves more than the insult itself. In his frustration, his eyes fell on the string of prayer beads lying scattered on the floor, and he gave them an impatient kick. 'So that's her game. She wants to challenge me? I'd like to see just how long her resolve will hold,' he thought, fuming. ***** Sophia sped away from Nightfall Estate, her phone buzzing relentlessly on the passenger seat. Lucas's name flashed across the screen again and again until she finally grabbed it and blocked his number for good. When she looked up at the road, she blinked, her vision blurring for a moment. She braced for the familiar sting of tears, but when her fingers touched her skin, it was dry. It was only then that she noticed the soft patter against the windshield. A fine drizzle had begun to fall, and a quiet melancholy settled over her, as gray as the sky. Up ahead, the flickering hazard lights of a sleek black car broke the rhythm of the rain. A man in a soaked suit, looking to be in his forties, stood beside it, waving frantically at passing traffic. Almost without conscious thought, Sophia found herself flipping on her turn signal and pulling over. She rolled down her window as the man rushed over. "Everything okay?" she asked. "It's my boss," the man said, his voice tight with panic. "He's having a heart attack. The ambulance is stuck in a multi-car accident. Please, can you take us to the hospital?" Sophia hesitated. Letting two strange men into her car, especially in this weather, felt dangerous. Every cautionary tale she'd ever heard flashed through her mind. Seeing her hesitation, the man added urgently, "I promise we're not dangerous. My boss is—" But Sophia was already moving, cutting the engine and stepping out into the downpour. "Just get him to my car, now," she called out as she rushed toward their vehicle. As she got closer, she recognized the distinctive emblem of the black Maybach. Working together, they carefully transferred the elderly man from the luxury sedan into Sophia's more modest car. The old man's lips were tinged with blue, and each ragged breath seemed like a struggle, clear signs of his critical condition. Sliding behind the wheel, Sophia started the car and pulled back onto the road, pushing through the veils of rain. In the backseat, the middle-aged man was a whirlwind of activity on his phone, coordinating with a hospital and alerting the family. Beyond the windows, the storm seemed to intensify, as if trying to match the urgency inside the car. After ensuring everything was in place, the man turned to Sophia with heartfelt appreciation. "You're the only one who stopped in this downpour. We can't thank you enough." A warm smile touched Sophia's lips. "Some things are just meant to be." ***** Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital entrance where medical staff stood ready. The team swiftly transferred the elderly man to a stretcher and hurried him inside for emergency care. Just as Sophia was about to drive away, she spotted a lone leather shoe in the backseat—the one the elderly man had been wearing. After a moment's hesitation, she parked properly and carried the shoe to the reception desk, logging it as a lost item. Sophia was just turning to leave when a group emerged from the hospital's main entrance. At the front of the group was a man whose height and posture commanded attention. He turned his sharp gaze on her, and the intensity in his eyes was so commanding that it felt like a physical pressure. 'That frown means trouble,' Sophia thought. She averted her gaze and continued walking, brushing past the group without a second look. It wasn't until she was back in the driver's seat that she felt the chill of her wet clothes clinging to her skin. As she dried her hair with a towel from the backseat, a notification popped up on her phone while she was opening the navigation app. It was a post from Emily: [Nothing says 'forever' like a soft-boiled egg made with love! My ultimate comfort food.] The post featured two photos—one showed a soft-boiled egg with a ketchup heart, and the other captured a tall man's back as he stood at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Sophia couldn't help but compare. When she was with Lucas, he had acted like even pouring her a glass of water was a significant concession. Cooking a meal was utterly out of the question. The fact that he was now cooking for Emily spoke volumes about where his true affections lay. She closed the page and entered her apartment address into the navigation system before driving out of the parking lot. As she watched the heavy rain outside, a single decisive thought crystallized in her mind—this marriage was over. Chapter 6 Return The Trash To The Dumpster That evening, a text came through from Annabelle Quinn, Sophia's best friend since college, insisting they go out to a lounge. The old Sophia would have declined immediately, conditioned to obey Lucas's rule about her not going out. But now that Sophia was divorcing him, his opinions held no weight. ***** The moment Sophia stepped out of the car, she saw Annabelle waiting by the entrance. "Hope you haven't been waiting long," she said as she approached. "Just got here," Annabelle grinned, looping her arm through Sophia's. "So, what's the special occasion? Did you finally get a night off from your sweetheart?" Sophia struggled to find the words, but she couldn't keep it from her best friend. "I'm getting a divorce," she finally said. "Let me guess," Annabelle said, not one to mince words in front of her best friend. "This is about Emily being back, isn't it?" "It's not just that," Sophia admitted, her voice quiet. It just took seeing the difference for herself to truly see how little her three years of effort had meant. Annabelle threw a supportive arm around Sophia's shoulders. "You should have woken up to this a long time ago." For three years, she had watched Sophia lose herself in a hollow relationship, and it killed Annabelle to see her friend throw everything away for a man who never appreciated her. "Better late than never," Sophia offered with a weak smile. "Damn right it is," Annabelle declared. "Tonight, I'm getting us the best male models in town. You deserve some real attention." They ascended into the pulsating heart of the club, pushing through the glittering crowd toward the exclusive booth Annabelle had booked. As they moved past the entrance to a private booth, a burst of laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway. Amid the noise, Sophia's own name caught her sharp ear. "Got to hand it to Lucas. The minute Emily was back, he moved her right in. Word is, he showed Sophia the door." "Well, she had it coming. Play the simp, and you lose it all. Seriously though, that night in the booth with all the blood? I truly thought a tragedy had occurred, but it was probably just her period." "You're thinking about that? Man, have you had a thing for Sophia all along?" "Who'd pine after some nobody from a backwater? Only Lucas, with his unique preferences, would stick around for three years." "Guess the novelty wore off. Time for a change." Standing in the hallway, Sophia felt a cold stillness settle behind her eyes. The voices clicked into place—Lucas's oldest friends. They had been there that night, spectators to her most shameful moment. Annabelle's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind." But as she moved toward the door, Sophia stopped her with a gentle hand. "This is my battle to fight," Sophia said firmly. With that, Sophia pushed the door open and swept into the room. She settled gracefully onto the sofa, joining their conversation with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you're talking about unique preferences, I top him," she began, her voice deceptively light, "I recycled what Emily threw away. But it looks like I did everyone a favor by returning the trash to the dumpster where it belongs." A stunned silence fell over the room. Every face on the circular sofa stared at her in horrified fascination. Unbeknownst to Sophia, two figures had entered the room behind her during her speech. The guests' eyes darted nervously between Sophia and the newcomers, the air thickening with tension. There stood Lucas and Emily, their expressions dark as storm clouds. Their presence made Sophia turn. Her eyes instantly met the cold, dark stare of Lucas. But she didn't back down. A defiant shrug lifted her shoulders. "Look what the cat dragged in. My trash husband." Emily's eyes instantly glistened with tears. "Sophia, ignore them," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "It's all lies. Lucas and I are just friends." As if to prove her point, she clutched Lucas's arm. "Tell her, Lucas. Make her understand there's nothing going on between us." Sophia's gaze dropped to the hand clinging to Lucas's arm, and a faint, derisive smile touched her mouth. 'Just friends? Did she really expect anyone to believe that?' she thought bitterly. Lucas detached himself from Emily's grip and closed the distance between him and Sophia. The motion broke the tension, stirring his friends into action. "Hey, Lucas, take it easy," one of them said, stepping forward. "She's just reacting to our stupid jokes." "Come on, Sophia, just say you're sorry to Lucas," another one urged. "You know he'll forgive you." The suggestion made Sophia want to laugh bitterly. 'Is this really how they see me? As some lovesick fool who'd come crawling back at the first sign of forgiveness?' she thought. It explained everything—why, for three years, they had shown her phony respect as Lucas's wife while mocking her devotion in private. She had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn't met Lucas seven years ago, if that fateful incident hadn't tied her to him, she would have moved on with her life long ago. "Are you quite done?" Lucas's voice cut through her thoughts as he reached for her arm. She shifted her weight gracefully, letting his hand close on empty air. The rejected gesture hung between them for a beat too long before he withdrew, his features tightening with displeasure. Turning to Emily, who was now dabbing at her eyes, Sophia arched a brow. "There's no need for the waterworks. You're making it look like I'm the one being cruel here." "Sophia, I've treated you like my elder sister. I—" Emily began, trying to defend herself. "Don't," Sophia interrupted, her voice cool. "We arrived minutes apart, and you were first. Let's skip the emotional act." Emily's face turned from pale to deep red as she clenched her jaw in fury. 'Since when has Sophia found this kind of nerve? She used to shrink into silence whenever Lucas was near,' she thought. Despite her three-year absence from the city, Emily had ensured she received every scrap of information about Sophia's life. She knew all about Sophia's pathetic attempts to please Lucas, and she knew exactly how little he cared for his wife. She even knew they kept separate bedrooms, and that on the occasional night Lucas spent with Sophia, he always sent her back to her own room afterward. She knew that to Lucas, Sophia was just a body—convenient, disposable, and utterly unimportant. With a dark expression, Lucas grabbed Sophia's wrist and began pulling her toward the exit. Sophia's answer was a sharp, stinging slap across his cheek. The sound cracked through the air, and a dead silence fell over the room. All eyes were fixed on Sophia in pure shock. Everyone was wondering if she had lost her mind to dare something like that. Lucas slowly worked his jaw, the look in his eyes so dark that it promised retribution. When Sophia resisted, Lucas didn't hesitate. He swept her up onto his shoulder and carried her out of the room. The sight made Emily's heart clench. She'd never seen Lucas be so patient with anyone. Before she knew it, her hand was on his arm. "Lucas..." He didn't turn his head, but some of the tension left his expression. "I'm taking her home," he said firmly. "The driver will return for you when you're ready." Emily could only watch as Lucas walked away with Sophia. She had no right to stop him, but it stung—this was the first time he'd ever left her for another woman, especially one who meant nothing. Her hands tightened at her sides. 'I gave you a chance to walk away quietly, Sophia. You brought this on yourself,' she thought. Sophia's protests echoed down the hallway as she struggled against Lucas's hold. Unsure what was happening between the couple, Annabelle turned away, pretending she hadn't noticed them. Lucas carried Sophia into the elevator and stepped out briskly when it reached the basement level. As the car door opened, Lucas tossed Sophia into the back seat. Struggling upright, she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea from the prolonged time she'd spent upside down. She opened her mouth to curse, but the words died on her lips as the tinted window of a nearby Maybach began to descend. In the shadowy interior, the man's profile was sharp and forbidding. His lips were set in a firm line, and he sat with the imposing stillness of an iceberg, his presence pushing others away. Sensing her gaze, he glanced over, and their eyes locked. Without a word, Sophia averted her gaze and hid her face behind a veil of tangled hair. Chapter 7 Not Her Home Anymore Lucas's black Bentley pulled out of the underground parking garage, but Sophia was still lost in thought about those intense eyes. There was something familiar about them, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen them before. Lucas's voice broke the silence. "Did you follow me here? What are you so concerned about?" "What?" Sophia asked, snapping back to reality. Keeping his eyes on the road, Lucas tried to explain. "You know how my friends are—they never think before they speak. Don't take their words seriously. There's nothing going on between Emily and me." 'If there's really nothing between them, why was he being so protective? He only rushed me out because he was worried I might cause a scene and embarrass Emily,' Sophia thought. "Sure," Sophia said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You and Emily are completely innocent." "I'm trying to explain myself here," Lucas said, his patience wearing thin. "Do you have to be so sarcastic?" Her ungrateful attitude was beginning to irritate him. He remembered how she used to soften at the slightest reassurance. Now, it seemed her patience had worn thin. "Understood," Sophia said, her tone flat. "Is that all?" "I've been clear from the beginning—you are my wife, and that won't change. But if you want this marriage to work, you need to drop your little tricks. I won't play these games." Sophia stayed quiet, struck by his assumption that her mention of divorce was merely a plea for attention. Her silence tightened the air between them. "Don't become someone I resent, Sophia," he said with a frown, his voice low. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips as she turned toward the window, shutting him out completely. Sensing he had pushed too far, Lucas eased his tone. "I had your things moved back to our room. If you want to stay with me, just say so. There's no need for all this." Sophia was left speechless. ***** As the car came to a stop in the courtyard of Nightfall Estate, Sophia stepped out. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the cherry blossom grove in the garden. The sight sent a sharp pang through her chest. She forced her gaze away and continued into the villa. Inside, the decor had been completely redone. The new style, with its unmistakable resemblance to the Evans residence, clearly revealed who had overseen the renovations. She moved through rooms that felt entirely alien to her now, but she kept her thoughts to herself since this was no longer her home. Wendy looked surprised when she saw Sophia. "Mrs. Westwood, you've returned. Have you had your supper?" Sinking into the plush pink sofa, Sophia answered quietly, "Yes, thank you." Wendy offered a tight smile before retreating to her quarters to make a hurried phone call to Helen, reporting the unexpected arrival. Helen had never approved of Sophia, whom she saw as a plain nobody not good enough for her son. The infertility diagnosis hardened Helen's resolve to rush the divorce so Lucas could marry someone worthy of giving her grandchildren. The news of Sophia's sudden return after her dramatic departure kept Helen tossing and turning all night. Lucas had been certain Sophia would confront him about the complete makeover of their home. He stood ready to smooth things over, but she walked through the rooms without comment, her silence leaving him more unsettled than any argument would have. "If the decor isn't to your taste..." Lucas moved to sit beside her, his arms beginning to encircle her. Sophia reached for a throw pillow, tucking it between them as she shifted away from his embrace. The gentle rejection stung, though Lucas reassured himself that this was the same woman who had always adored him. "It's true. I prefer my original choices," she said calmly. "Can you have everything returned to how it was?" The warm, elegant furnishings had vanished, replaced by the overwhelming pinks that Emily favored—a transformation that had turned their home into something resembling a kitschy boutique hotel. Lucas shifted uncomfortably. "Let's not make a big deal out of it. You'll get used to the way things are around here." A faint, knowing smile curved on Sophia's lips as she met his gaze. That smile never failed to get under his skin. "Try to see it from her perspective, Sophia," he said, his voice tightening. "After everything she's been through these past three years, all Emily wants is to feel like she belongs." A wave of exhaustion washed over her. It was like talking to a brick wall. "I know," she said flatly. "You have your entire family backing you up," Lucas shot back, his patience clearly wearing thin. "But Emily? She has nobody else. Is it really so hard for you to be a little more compassionate?" "Funny," Sophia replied, her tone icy. "I was under the impression my adoptive parents were still very much alive." Besides, the Evans family had never once ceased to think about Emily throughout those three years. They made trip after trip to Felarica to celebrate Emily's birthdays and attend her parties. They even missed Sophia's wedding to Lucas because of her. A single social media post from Emily, complaining of her loneliness in Felarica, was all it took for them to drop everything and fly to her side. "Now that you've made it out of that dead-end town, you should be the last person to let Emily sink into it," he shot back. As Sophia looked at him, the last glimmer of hope in her eyes vanished. She knew well enough to stop mentioning divorce. To Lucas, it was just another act—proof that she was the same desperate woman the world thought her to be. If she couldn't get through to Lucas, she was going to find another path. Now, with her infertility diagnosis, she knew Helen would be far more impatient to act on this news. Sophia retreated to the master bedroom. Her possessions had claimed their space, with her clothes occupying half of the vast closet. A sense of normalcy had finally settled between her and Lucas, the kind that belongs to a husband and wife. But it was a fragile peace, already beginning to fray. Lucas was still in the living room when Emily returned. The air around her carried the sharp tang of liquor. Her face was deeply flushed, and she swayed slightly as she walked. He was at her side in an instant, his hand gently steadying her. "You've had far too much to drink," he murmured, his brow furrowed with worry. "This isn't good for you. I don't want to see you like this again." Emily turned into him, her arms finding their way around his neck. "I couldn't help it," she whispered, her voice thick with drink and emotion. "It's the only thing that dulls the ache." Sensing her legs might give way, he simply gathered her into his arms. "Wendy," he said to the housekeeper who had appeared, heading for the stairs. "Would you bring up some electrolyte water for Emily?" "Understood," Wendy replied. Playing the part of the drunken mess, Emily clung to Lucas and sobbed into his chest. "I've always regretted it," she cried. "Letting my pride push you away was the biggest mistake of my life." A long-buried tenderness tugged at Lucas's heart. "Let's try again, Lucas. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice," she whispered, tilting her face up to his. Just as their lips were about to meet, the master bedroom door swung open, and the sudden movement startled the couple in the hallway. Sophia stood in the doorway in her pajamas, watching them with a completely expressionless face. Lucas instantly snapped back to reality, and a rare look of panic flashed across his handsome face. "Sophie, Emily is drunk," he said quickly. "I'm just taking her back to her room." Still draped around him, Emily met Sophia's eyes over Lucas's shoulder. The tears were gone, replaced by a cool, triumphant smirk that held no trace of intoxication. Sophia's mouth curved into a humorless smile as she replied, "Yes, and you're drunk too." Without another word, she stepped back and slammed the door, the turn of the lock echoing decisively behind her. The idea of sleeping next to Lucas made her blood boil. She honestly didn't trust herself to lie beside him all night without her rage getting the better of her. Chapter 8 Divorce Settlement The next morning, as Sophia left her room, the guest room door across the hall opened at the exact same time. Lucas was stepping out, finishing with his tie. He glanced up and went completely still, finding Sophia already watching him from their bedroom doorway. Surprise flashed across his face, and he started with an explanation. "She was a mess last night," he said, his voice low. "I couldn't just leave her." Sophia's eyes dropped to the bright red smudge on his collar. Her eyes were filled with silent scorn as she thought about how filthy it was. She said with icy calm, "Relax, I know perfectly well that nothing would ever happen between you two, even when you don't have a stitch of clothing on." Her words cut off whatever excuse Lucas was about to offer. Anger darkened his features. "Think what you want," he snapped. "My feelings for her are purely brotherly." Sophia's eyes fell to the lipstick stain on his collar again. "So, how does it feel to be so close to your 'sister'?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Following her line of sight, Lucas saw the evidence, and a shadow of guilt crossed his face. "It was an accident," he insisted, his voice tight. "Don't make it sound so sordid." "So filthy," she murmured, shaking her head. As he drew a sharp breath to retaliate, she added with a cold smile, "I mean your shirt." He stared at her, his expression turning to stone. She merely offered a careless shrug and walked away, leaving him fuming in the hallway. Downstairs, Sophia was halfway through her breakfast when her phone vibrated on the table. A quick glance at the screen confirmed it was Helen calling. Just then, Wendy appeared with two additional breakfast plates. Sophia swiped to answer the call, a deliberate smile directed at Wendy. "You're calling so early, Mrs. Westwood." The pointed smile made Wendy's blood run cold, and at the mention of Mrs. Westwood, she was reminded of betraying Sophia by reporting to Helen last night. Stricken with guilt, she almost fumbled the tray. She dropped the plates onto the table and hastily retreated to the safety of the kitchen. A faint, cold smile touched Sophia's lips as Helen's venomous voice filled her ear. "Utterly devoid of manners," Helen sneered. "What else can you expect from someone with such a common background?" Sophia's eyes turned to ice. "Trace any lineage back three generations, Mrs. Westwood, and you'll find humble roots. It's distasteful to scorn your own origins." Helen found herself at a loss for words. Though Lucas's parents both had city roots, his grandparents' generation had all struggled in a backwater. Helen's parents had even lived in a cowshed. So in that regard, Helen was no better than Sophia. "That sharp tongue of yours is exactly why people can't stand you," Helen shot back. Sophia rolled her eyes in contempt. Biting back her anger, Helen forced a calmer tone. "We need to meet. There's a document for you to sign." "What kind of document?" "It'll be clear when you get here." Letting the matter drop, Sophia hung up. As she did, she saw Lucas descending the staircase. He had showered and changed, his hair perfectly styled like a model from the pages of a magazine. She had to admit, he was pleasing to look at. 'With those looks, he certainly has the assets for a career as a gigolo,' Sophia thought wryly. A smug feeling warmed Lucas as her eyes stayed on him. He drew out the chair next to hers and sat down. "Paliston Fashion Week is just around the corner," he offered. "It'll be a good chance for us to get away." In three years of marriage, it was the first time he had ever proposed such a thing. Sophia acknowledged him with a quiet hum, but she felt no spark of happiness or expectation. She saw the offer for what it was—a peace offering, born of the guilt he carried after his betrayal. Her ride showed up shortly after breakfast. Picking up her bag, Sophia walked out the door.
Chapter 1 His First Love Returned Sophia Evans could feel her world beginning to crack the moment she heard the news—the woman her husband, Lucas Westwood, had never gotten over was back. When Sophia arrived at the hotel's VIP suite with a gift, she found Lucas's first love—Emily Evans—being humiliated by his childhood friends. "Lick the wine off my shoe, Emily. I'll give you thirty thousand dollars," one of them said. Emily was forced to kneel on the floor, tears in her defiant eyes as she stared shamefully at Lucas. Lucas watched with a dark expression, saying nothing as he held his temper in check. Sophia halted mid-step, struck by the painful familiarity of the scene. Three years ago, when she had first been welcomed into the Evans family, these same privileged young men had tormented her in exactly the same way to gain Emily's favor. But back then, Lucas hadn't worn this expression of utter heartbreak. "There you are," Lucas said as soon as he spotted Sophia, his arm sliding around her waist in a show of intimacy. Only Sophia could feel the desperate pressure of his grip—a silent testament to the pain he was trying to conceal. Lucas's childhood friends had reserved the entire venue for his birthday celebration. But Sophia had never expected Emily to show up here. Everyone knew Lucas had married Sophia just to spite Emily. Three years ago, Emily's identity as a fake heiress was exposed. She broke up with Lucas then and there and left the Evans family behind. Lucas pursued her to the airport, boarded her departing flight, and forced the plane that had already taken off to turn back. Right there on that plane, he proposed to Emily. To his complete surprise, Emily refused without hesitation, declaring that the arranged marriage should be honored by the Evans family's true heiress. Humiliated and acting out of spite, Lucas married Sophia instead. For three years, Sophia had lived as Emily's stand-in. Everyone whispered that if Emily ever returned, Lucas would discard Sophia without a second thought. Sophia had once believed that too, but something had shifted in these past six months—Lucas seemed to be genuinely falling for her. He made grand declarations of love in the press, showered her with luxury homes and cars, and even replaced the cherry tree he'd planted for Emily with a garden full of red roses. In their most tender moments, he'd whisper against her ear, "Let's have a baby, Sophie. I hope they have your smile." Sophia's hand drifted absently to her stomach as she clutched the gift box a little tighter. Inside was a positive pregnancy test—meant to be Lucas's birthday surprise. But now, the timing of the gift felt all wrong. "You still think you're the Evans family princess, Emily? Lucas only has eyes for Sophia now. Why not be with me? A pretty thing like you deserves to be treated right," one of Lucas's friends, Ryan Shaw, sneered. He dragged Emily onto his lap, his hands already roaming over her. "Get your hands off me!" Emily cried, fighting against Ryan's grip as humiliation burned through her. Her resistance only fueled Ryan's excitement. In one swift motion, he shoved her down onto the couch, his powerful body trapping hers. Horrified that Ryan would assault Emily right in front of Lucas, Sophia jumped up to stop him, only to be shoved aside as Lucas already surged into action. As she stumbled, her hands instinctively reached for Lucas's arm, but he brutally shook her off. She hit the floor hard, a jolt of sharp pain shooting from her tailbone straight to her womb. Through the pain-induced haze, she saw Lucas grab Ryan by the collar, drag him off Emily, and pummel his face with brutal, unforgiving fists. "You've overstepped, Ryan. Emily is mine. Even if I discard her, she'll never be yours to touch," Lucas snapped. His words hung in the air, and the entire room fell silent as if frozen in time. Sophia stared at Lucas in disbelief, wondering where she stood in his life now that he had openly claimed Emily as his woman. All eyes in the room were drawn to the scene. Some watched with malicious delight, while others were simply captivated by the unfolding drama. Doubled over in pain, Sophia felt a warm wetness spreading beneath her. Her face paled as a cold dread gripped her heart. "Honey, my stomach hurts," she turned to Lucas instinctively. "Please, take me to the hospital." Without even glancing her way, Lucas removed his jacket and gently placed it around Emily's shoulders. Nestling into his embrace, Emily whispered, her voice trembling, "Lucas, I'm scared. Please take me away from here." "Don't worry," he murmured, holding her close. "I won't let anyone hurt you." Sweeping Emily into his arms, Lucas carried her out of the room, completely ignoring Sophia's pain-racked form shuddering on the floor. Perched comfortably on his shoulder, Emily gazed down at Sophia's crumpled form on the floor, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. The spectators murmured among themselves, still savoring the drama they'd just witnessed. "Emily's definitely the one for Lucas. He hasn't taken his eyes off her all night." "The way Lucas looks at her... I thought it was hatred, but it's clearly something else entirely." "Who could resist someone like her? I certainly wouldn't be able to stay angry." "Poor Sophia. She was just a side character in their love story." At the mention of Sophia's name, the crowd remembered her presence simultaneously, their attention shifting to where she sat. Sophia was in terrible pain and covered in a cold sweat until someone finally noticed her condition and quickly helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?" the guy asked. She gripped his arm tightly as the room spun around her. "Please take me to the hospital. My stomach hurts terribly," she pleaded. Then everything went dark as she fainted. Through the haze of semi-consciousness, distant screams about blood echoed in her ears. When Sophia regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital room. The sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the air as she lay alone in the quiet ward. A nurse tending to her bandages noticed her awakening. "You're awake," she said softly. Sophia's voice came out weak and fearful. "My baby... Is my baby alright?" "Your baby is fine," the nurse reassured her. "But you'll need to take special care. These first few months are particularly delicate in your condition." Relief washed over Sophia as grateful tears fell. "Thank you," she whispered, overwhelmed that her child was safe. Through the emotional turmoil, Sophia's first thought was to share the news with Lucas immediately. Wiping her tears, she reached for her phone and dialed his number. The phone rang several times before Lucas finally picked up. His voice was edged with impatience as he answered, "Not coming home tonight. Don't wait—" "Lucas, my hair's caught in this zipper," Emily's voice interrupted, floating through the line. "Could you give me a hand?" Sophia's knuckles went white around her phone. "Be right there," he said. The call ended before Sophia could form a response. Overnight, things between her and Lucas had reverted to how they were six months ago. Back then, he'd been all cold shoulders and sharp tones. Even in their most intimate moments, he treated her like just another need to be met. To him, she might as well have been a stranger—or worse, just a convenient body. So when he finally let his guard down, she'd been so grateful for the warmth that she fell harder than she ever meant to. She thought her years of longing had finally paid off. But reality slapped her senseless when Lucas chose Emily's safety over their own child's life. After being discharged from the hospital, Sophia caught a taxi home. Midway through the ride, her phone buzzed with a Twitter alert. It was a tweet from Emily: [You told me you'd hold my hand and never let go—not for the rest of our lives.] The attached photo showed Emily dressed like a princess, complete with a tiny crown, her hand locked tightly with a larger, elegant hand. Around the wrist was a bracelet made of prayer beads—the very one Sophia had prayed for in a church last year, when Lucas was burning up with fever. That day, he squeezed her hand and whispered a promise that he would never leave her side. Chapter 2 Ask Him For A Divorce The taxi stopped outside the Nightfall Estate, where Sophia paid the fare and got out of the vehicle. She was just heading inside when a truck carrying young cherry trees rumbled up the drive and stopped near the garden. Workers carefully unloaded the cherry trees and settled them into the prepared holes. Where a vibrant sea of red roses had bloomed just yesterday, now only upturned earth remained, with the plants piled carelessly to the side. A dull ache spread through Sophia's chest as she gazed at the rose petals strewn like crimson tears across the soil. The familiar purr of a luxury car engine approached from behind. Turning around, Sophia saw Lucas step out of the car. He stood tall and straight, radiating a natural air of calm elegance. "Honey..." Sophia began, but the words died on her lips as he leaned back into the car. With gentle care, he helped a woman step out—it was Emily, who looked radiant in an exquisite designer ensemble that made her complexion glow. Only when Emily was steady did Lucas's gaze finally meet Sophia's, those usually warm eyes now regarding her with detached indifference. "Did you need something?" he asked, his tone flat. The cold unfamiliarity in his look struck Sophia's heart like a physical blow. "Why are you tearing out the roses when they were growing so well?" she asked, desperate for his explanation. Those roses had been his special way of confessing his feelings to her. Lucas barely glanced at the destroyed garden. "Emily's not feeling well. She'll be staying with us for a bit." "What does that have to do with the roses?" she pressed. "She's allergic to the pollen," he said curtly, already turning to guide Emily inside. Sophia stood rooted to the spot, her heart breaking. Emily's delicate voice carried through the air. "Lucas, Sophia seems upset. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have complained about the roses." "She doesn't matter to me," Lucas reassured her. "But I worry she'll resent me. Really, I can manage with allergy medication," Emily offered, her voice dripping with false concern. "Medication always has side effects. Don't suggest things that worry me," he replied. Sophia stood motionless as she watched their figures grow smaller in the distance. A silent tear traced its way down her cheek while overwhelming sorrow washed over her. 'I don't matter to him... Yeah, right,' Sophia murmured with bitter irony, the truth of the words settling like a weight in her heart. He hadn't even asked about her absence last night, and now he had ordered her favorite roses to be torn out. The message was clear—she meant less to him than the slightest thought of Emily. For three years, she had devoted herself to him, offering unwavering love and comfort through difficult times. She had believed her constant warmth could thaw even the coldest heart, but Emily's reappearance had erased everything in an instant. She wondered what their intimacy these past six months had truly meant, and what role she had actually played in his life. A sudden twinge in her lower abdomen made her catch her breath. Pale and unsteady, she turned toward the villa. As Sophia stepped into the living room, she saw Emily nestled against Lucas on the sofa, watching with affectionate amusement as he peeled an orange for her. Lucas gently picked away every bit of white pith from the orange segments before arranging them on a plate for Emily. "For you," he said with a soft smile. "Enjoy, my little foodie." As Emily took the plate, she noticed Sophia entering the room. A triumphant smile graced her lips as she called out, "Sophia, would you like some? Lucas peeled these himself. Something you've never experienced, I'm sure." Sophia's gaze fell upon the perfectly prepared orange segments, and she felt a sudden sting behind her eyes. The painful truth was that in all their time together, Lucas had never once peeled an orange for her. She had always been the one serving him. The realization struck her with perfect clarity—Lucas knew well how to be thoughtful, but he simply reserved his kindness for Emily. Sophia felt her heart breaking into pieces as she finally understood how painful comparison could be. "She's perfectly capable of peeling her own fruit," Lucas said dismissively, barely glancing at Sophia. Then he noticed her pale complexion and added, "Are you alright? You look terribly pale." Sophia's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she debated telling Lucas her secret pregnancy. A fragile hope whispered within her—that this truth might finally soften his heart toward her. "I..." Her voice faltered, the words dying on her lips. "If you're ill, see a doctor. This pathetic act is getting tiresome," Lucas said, impatience flashing across his handsome features. He was annoyed by her wounded expression, which seemed to suggest she was the victim of some terrible injustice. Sophia swallowed her unspoken words, her gaze lingering on the man who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. "I'm fine," she murmured. "I'll just go to my room." As she turned toward the staircase, Lucas felt a surge of irritation. 'I must've been too lenient with her, and now she dared to show me attitude,' he thought, fuming. Sophia had only climbed a few steps when the housekeeper, Wendy, appeared descending the stairs with servants carrying boxes. The items looked familiar, but it was the sight of her stuffed doll in Wendy's arms that made Sophia realize everything they carried was hers. In a swift motion, she stepped forward and snatched the doll. Her voice turned icy as she asked, "Wendy, care to explain this?" "Mr. Westwood's orders," Wendy said quietly. "You're to move to the storage room downstairs." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, leaving her mind reeling. She turned to Lucas, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious." They'd already maintained separate bedrooms, but she never imagined that she'd be banished to a storage room instead of even being offered the guest suite after Emily's return. For a fleeting moment under her gaze, Lucas felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly hardened into resolve. "Emily needs the sunroom for her health," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your room gets the best light. It's better for her recovery." The absurdity of it all drew a bitter laugh from Sophia's lips. She thought his previous cruelty—shoving her while pregnant and replacing her roses with Emily's cherry trees—had been the worst it could get. But this new humiliation surpassed even that. All Lucas had done since Emily's return yesterday was talk about her. In just one day, she had turned Sophia's whole life upside down. Sophia expected to feel rage, but instead found only a hollow emptiness settling in her chest. 'Look at him, Sophia,' Sophia thought bitterly. 'This is the man you gave your heart and soul to. Was any of it worth it?' "If you're so worried about her comfort, why not just move her into your room? The master suite gets the best light anyway," Sophia shot back. Lucas responded sharply, "Sophia, you need to watch your tone." Emily's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I know you don't want me here, Sophia. I'll go. Please don't fight with Lucas over me." Sophia saw right through Emily's act. A humorless laugh escaped her as she spat, "You're not going anywhere. I am." Tightening her grip on the stuffed doll, she turned and headed for the door. "Don't you dare, Sophia." Lucas rose to his feet, his voice cutting through the room. "Walk out that door now, and don't expect to ever come back." Sophia's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "I'll make sure you receive the divorce papers," she said, her voice cold and steady. "See that you sign them." "You're asking me for a divorce?" Lucas's voice was low, thick with barely restrained fury. He added, his tone edged with contempt, "Have you forgotten who gave you this life, Sophia? The luxury, the status—all of it came from me. Without my name, you're just that wide-eyed girl fresh off that forgotten little town. You don't get to leave." Chapter 3 The Replaced Medical Result Sophia didn't need to look back to know the condescending smirk that was surely on Lucas's face. She knew he had always despised her. His proposal three years ago had been motivated only by a desire to fulfill the marriage agreement between their families and to exact revenge on Emily. She had been naive enough to believe his empty promises, offering him her genuine love when he saw her as nothing more than a pawn. To him, she would always be a leech, clinging to his wealth and name for survival. But now, she had reached her limit, and she no longer wanted him in her life. Sophia walked out without a backward glance. As she stepped through the gateway, the sound of shattering porcelain echoed behind her, but she no longer cared. Lucas stood amid the shattered remains, fingers pressed to his temples. His face was a mask of simmering anger. He dismissed the mention of divorce as just another one of her calculated moves, a transparent attempt to get his attention by pulling away. Emily watched him hesitantly. "Maybe I shouldn't be staying here, Lucas. Sophia seemed really upset." "It's nothing," Lucas replied evenly. Seeing how the mention of divorce had affected him, she suggested softly, "You could go after her. Women usually respond well to a little reassurance." "I don't have time for that," Lucas said, turning toward the staircase. With a business trip looming, his mind was elsewhere. 'Let her make a scene if she wants to,' he thought. 'She'll cool off and come crawling back. She always does.' ***** Sophia's home was a beautiful 3,200-square-foot apartment with an open-concept layout and sleek modern decor—all paid for with her own earnings. In her study, she printed the divorce papers and a letter resigning from her position. With a steady hand, she signed both, and then summoned a courier to deliver them directly to the Westwood Group. When she married Lucas three years ago, Sophia had joined his company, hoping to build a genuine connection with him. She started at the very bottom as an assistant and gradually earned her way up to department manager. She had wanted nothing more than to be close to him—in their home and at work. But in the end, her efforts were met with cold indifference. Gazing downward, Sophia softly cradled her stomach. "It's just us now, little one," she whispered. The courier arrived at Westwood headquarters while Lucas was away. His chief executive assistant, Kevin Chapman, received the delivery and signed. The moment Kevin saw the contents, he reached for the phone, dialing Lucas's number in haste. "Mr. Westwood, your wife has sent divorce documents." "Burn it all." On the other side of the ocean, Lucas loosened his tie as an unexpected wave of irritation came over him. "But Mrs. Westwood has even submitted her resignation letter..." Kevin replied, his tone hesitant. "She can't survive without this family." The blue flame from Lucas's lighter highlighted the grim set of his features. "Let her be. She'll come crawling back once reality sets in." Meanwhile, Sophia remained completely unaware of his words. Her morning had begun with a call from her mother-in-law, Helen Westwood. "Where are you? Return at once," Helen commanded in her typically imperious manner, leaving no room for discussion. Complying, Sophia drove back to the estate. No sooner had she stepped inside than a velvet box came hurling toward her head, which she narrowly avoided by stepping aside. Helen's shrill voice pierced the air. "How dare you avoid that? You've got some nerve." Sophia's gaze fell upon the velvet box at her feet, and suddenly, she understood why it seemed familiar. She remembered purchasing that exact box to store her pregnancy test results. On Lucas's birthday, she had intended to present it to him as a gift, but he had accidentally pushed her before she could give it to him, resulting in her hospitalization. Her heart leaped as she turned to face Helen's livid expression. 'Could she know about the pregnancy? But something about her reaction seems strange,' she wondered. For three years, Helen had made no secret of her disapproval of Sophia, someone raised in a small town. Yet every time Sophia visited the Westwood residence with Lucas, Helen would consistently nag Sophia about starting a family soon. If Helen knew Sophia was pregnant, she was supposed to be absolutely delighted instead of reacting like this. Helen clutched a medical report, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared down Sophia. "For three years, I've watched your marriage to Lucas, wondering why you never conceived. Now I understand—he married a barren woman. "If you hadn't left this at the hotel and Lucas's friend hadn't been kind enough to deliver it, I'd still be in the dark about your condition." Heart pounding with shock, Sophia ignored Helen's murderous gaze and snatched the document from her hand. The clinical report lay cold and pale in the morning light. There was her name, clearly printed, alongside the devastating diagnosis: "permanent infertility." 'Permanent infertility? But that's impossible. I'm pregnant. Someone must have switched my test results. But who would do such a thing?' Sophia wondered. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "This isn't my..." Emily, who had remained silent until now, suddenly interrupted, "Sophia, the Westwood lineage has been passed down through a single heir for ten generations. Are you trying to ensure Lucas dies without an heir? To extinguish the family line completely?" "How utterly heartless!" Helen exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Sophia as her anger reached its peak. "We've welcomed you with open arms since you married into this family. Yet you've been hiding this from us? To think you'd let our family line die out—it's truly despicable!" she added. Sophia didn't even attempt to explain herself. If they wanted to believe she was barren, so be it—it would only simplify the divorce proceedings. "I only received the results two days ago. I hadn't found the right moment to share the news," Sophia replied, her voice calm. "This wasn't about finding the right moment. You did this intentionally," Helen retorted, her face contorted with rage. "And you planned to give this to Lucas as a gift? What kind of twisted mind would conceive such a thing?" Sophia maintained her silence. Helen took a measured breath, forcing her anger down. "If you can't conceive naturally, I won't hold it against you. I've spoken with Emily, and she's agreed to donate her eggs so you and Lucas can pursue in vitro fertilization." Sophia stared in disbelief at the unexpected turn. "Could you repeat that?" She believed she had misheard because the suggestion was both preposterous and deeply offensive. "If you can't conceive, that's your problem. Emily is being extraordinarily generous by offering her eggs. The least you could do is show some appreciation instead of this ingratitude," Helen sneered. A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. "Perhaps you'd like to accept this generous offer yourself?" "How dare you speak to me like that!" Helen's eyes flashed with fury. "Sophia, you shouldn't speak to Mrs. Westwood that way. She was suggesting that for your sake," Emily said in a honeyed tone, reaching for the glass. As she moved, she made certain to display the prayer beads circling her delicate wrist. Sophia's breath caught—she would recognize the bracelet anywhere. That was the very ones she had sacrificed so much to obtain while praying for Lucas's recovery. It felt like a personal insult, seeing the bracelet that symbolized her love for Lucas now clasped around Emily's wrist. "For my sake?" Sophia repeated, the words tasting bitter as she caught the sly glint of satisfaction in Emily's eyes. It sent a sharp ache through her. She knew this game all too well. Emily had a gift for twisting people's vulnerabilities to her advantage, a lesson Sophia had learned the hard way three years ago. "I'm infertile. What possible use could I have for your eggs?" Sophia asked, her voice cold. "Do you really think I need a constant reminder of what I can't have?" Emily's smile vanished. For Helen's benefit, she bit her lip, her eyes instantly welling with feigned hurt. "Mrs. Westwood," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "I was only trying to help Sophia." Helen immediately comforted Emily by patting her hand. She then shot Sophia a disapproving look. "How can you be so selfish, Sophia? Are you really determined to let the Westwood family line die out?" Sophia gestured dismissively toward Emily. "Well, if she's so fertile, let her handle the baby-making." The thought of Emily getting to be a mother the easy way turned Sophia's stomach. Chapter 4 Take Back Her Things The color drained from both Helen's and Emily's faces. Helen stepped forward, jabbing a finger toward Sophia. "You think you're better than us? Then you give the Westwood family an heir. Don't blame anyone else for your own useless womb." Sophia bit back the sharp retort on her tongue. She was done with this family, done with Lucas. Arguing now would only prolong the inevitable. "Mrs. Westwood," she began, "I've decided—" Lucas's familiar, deep voice cut through the tension from the doorway. "Decided what?" Sophia turned to see Lucas standing there, his clothes rumpled from travel. His assistant, Kevin, hovered behind him with a suitcase in hand. The air in the room was thick with tension, so Kevin knew better than to stay. He simply left the suitcase by the door and made a quick exit. Loosening his tie, Lucas turned to Helen. "Mom, what brings you here?" "If I hadn't come, you'd have let our family name die out," Helen shot back. She then snatched the medical report from Sophia and flung it at Lucas's chest. "See for yourself," she said coldly, and with that, she swept out of the room. Lucas looked down at the document in his hands, and the words "permanent infertility" caused a faint twitch in his brow. His eyes, when they finally lifted to meet Sophia's, were devoid of warmth. "You'll go back to the hospital tomorrow for a full work-up. I will not have a wife who can't give me an heir." A hollow ache spread through Sophia's chest. Any foolish hope she'd been clinging to finally faded. Lucas had never defended her in three years of his mother's constant belittlement. And now, the ease with which he believed this lie revealed the chilling truth of his character. "I have the divorce papers right here," Sophia said, pulling the documents from her bag. She extended them toward him, her voice steady. "Just sign them, and you'll never have to see me again." Lucas didn't even look at the papers. In one swift motion, his hand closed around her throat, pulling her close. He leaned in until his face was mere inches from hers, and she could feel his warm breath and smell the familiar scent of his cologne. There was a time when this closeness would have made her heart flutter. Now, it only made her skin crawl. It was amazing how easy it was to walk away when all the love had drained away. "Sophia, have I been too soft with you?" Lucas's voice was thick with contempt. "Where exactly do you think you'll go without my protection?" She held his gaze without flinching. "That's really none of your concern anymore." "Still got that sharp tongue," he sneered. He released her with a dismissive shove, as if her defiance meant nothing. "Go make me dinner. I'm hungry." A wave of pain shot through Sophia's lower abdomen as she sank into the sofa, her skin turning clammy with an instant, cold sweat. Across the room, Emily slid her arm through Lucas's with practiced ease. "Don't let Sophia bother you," she murmured. "Her little scene was just a cry for your attention." Lucas pulled his tie free, his stern expression melting away as he focused on Emily. "How are you holding up?" he asked, his tone gentler. "I'm fine," she sighed, putting on a pitiful face. "It's just that the medicine is so awfully bitter." "It's bitter because it's strong. You need to keep taking it," he reminded her. "I picked up those candies you like. They're in my suitcase. Go get them yourself." "I know you always look out for me," Emily said, stretching up to press a light kiss to Lucas's cheek. "Consider that your reward." A look of quiet satisfaction crossed his features at the gesture. "I'm going up to shower," he said. "Go ahead," Emily said sweetly, fluttering a wave at him. She waited until Lucas's footsteps faded up the staircase before turning to the suitcase. They carried on as if Sophia weren't standing right there in the same room. Humming cheerfully, Emily unzipped the luggage. Alongside Lucas's neatly folded clothes sat a jar of shimmering candies and an elegant red velvet box that clearly held something valuable. Her eyes skipped over the candy, going straight to the velvet box. When she lifted the lid, a pink diamond necklace lay gleaming, its facets scattering rainbows in the light. "Oh, it's exquisite. I love it," she whispered, her eyes widening. "So the candy was just a decoy. This necklace is what he really wanted me to find." Draping the necklace against her collarbone, Emily turned to face Sophia, who had risen from the sofa. "Well, Sophia? Don't you think it suits me perfectly?" The pink diamond necklace around Emily's neck struck Sophia as oddly familiar. It came to her a moment later—she had coveted it last month while flipping through a magazine. Lucas had seen her fascination and promised to get it for her. The catch was its exclusivity—a single piece, sourced from Melaria, the country where Lucas had been attending to business. "That was for me," Sophia said, her voice calm. The man was disposable, but her possessions were not. She would reclaim what was rightfully hers. With a swift motion, Emily clasped the necklace. "Finders keepers," she said with a mocking grin. Sophia approached for a closer look. Though the necklace was more exquisite than its photograph, any desire for it had vanished. A wary look crossed Emily's face. "What is this about?" "To take what belongs to me, of course," Sophia said, stepping close and extending her hand. "It's time you returned it." Emily's hands instinctively flew to the diamond necklace at her throat. "Lucas will never stand for this, Sophia. You know what I mean to him." Sophia almost laughed. She knew well that Emily held a special place in Lucas's heart. But that was irrelevant. She was only claiming what was hers. "Give the bracelet back to me," Sophia said coldly. It was a token earned through true devotion, and she wouldn't let its significance be tarnished. Realizing Sophia only wanted the simple bracelet, Emily smiled condescendingly. 'Some shortsighted people have no taste,' she thought. Emily twisted the bracelet around her wrist. "I heard you went to Grace Abbey to beg for this good-luck charm," she said. "You are so hung up on him, aren't you?" The hypocrisy of her words was almost laughable. "Give it back," Sophia said, her voice like ice. Emily's eyes flickered to a point behind Sophia, and a sly smile touched her lips. She lowered her voice. "If you want it so badly, why don't you come and take it?" Sophia didn't stop to think. She grabbed Emily's wrist and tugged the bracelet free. The moment it was off, Emily's demeanor shifted completely. "Sophia, what are you doing?" she cried out, her voice suddenly loud and panicked. "Lucas gave this to me." Before Sophia could even turn around, a powerful hand seized her by the collar and hauled her backwards. The fabric dug sharply into her throat, stealing her breath. Stumbling to regain her footing, Sophia looked up to see Lucas. He was already cradling Emily. "Emily, are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern. Emily buried her face in his chest. "I'm fine," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Please, don't be angry with Sophia. She didn't mean it." Lucas's jaw tightened, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. He took a deep breath and fixed Sophia with an icy stare. "Apologize to Emily." Chapter 5 She Wants A Clean Break A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. She had fooled herself into thinking she was numb to Lucas's coldness. But his command still sent a fresh, sharp pain through her chest. She knew there was no point arguing with a man who had already chosen the other woman's side. "I won't apologize," Sophia said, her fist closing tightly around the bracelet. "What for?" Emily looked up at Lucas with well-practiced vulnerability. "I'm causing trouble here, Lucas. I should go." Lucas caught her wrist before she could take a second step. "You're staying right here." His attention snapped back to Sophia, his expression darkening. "Now, Sophia, apologize to Emily." The room blurred as tears filled Sophia's eyes, twisting his familiar face into a stranger's. She lifted the simple bracelet between them. "This is my stuff in the first place. Since when is taking back what was stolen a crime?" "Your stuff? Since when do you have anything of your own?" Lucas's lips curled in a sneer. "I've paid for every stitch of clothing on your back." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, forcing a bitter laugh from her lips. He knew perfectly well she earned her own living, yet he took every opportunity to demean her. "This bracelet came from Grace Abbey," she countered, her voice trembling. "You didn't pay a cent for it." Lucas's eyes dropped to the simple beads in her palm. "You think I care about some cheap bracelet?" he scoffed. Hot tears streamed down Sophia's face without warning. Wiping them away, Sophia made a silent vow—this would be the last time he reduced her to this. "Fine!" With one sharp motion, she snapped the bracelet's cord, sending beads skittering across the floor. Lucas watched the scattered beads come to rest, his hand curling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. He knew how much that bracelet meant to her, but the moment Emily wanted it, he didn't hesitate to take it off and hand it over. Lucas's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "Sophia!" "I want a divorce," Sophia said, her voice eerily calm. As she opened her hand, the last bead from the bracelet clattered onto the floor between them. "Let's just end this." The sound was small, but in the tense silence, it was deafening, echoing in Lucas's mind. He let out a short laugh, his gaze locked on her. "You think a threat will work? You should know better than that by now." 'This has to be a ploy,' he thought to himself. 'She loves me too much to go through with it. She has accepted her role as Emily's replacement from the beginning and has never once tried to leave. 'She would never have the strength to walk away from me.' "Go make us something to eat, and we can forget this ever happened." Lucas was certain he had thrown Sophia a lifeline. He waited, fully expecting her to be overcome with relief and scurry off to the kitchen. He'd been away on business, and days of unfamiliar rich food had left his stomach unsettled. What he craved was Sophia's cooking—simple, hearty food that tasted like home. It was a flavor he couldn't find anywhere else. "You can go eat your ass," Sophia shot back. She picked up her bag, her lips twisting into a scornful smile, and walked out without a backward glance. That smile grated on Lucas's nerves more than the insult itself. In his frustration, his eyes fell on the string of prayer beads lying scattered on the floor, and he gave them an impatient kick. 'So that's her game. She wants to challenge me? I'd like to see just how long her resolve will hold,' he thought, fuming. ***** Sophia sped away from Nightfall Estate, her phone buzzing relentlessly on the passenger seat. Lucas's name flashed across the screen again and again until she finally grabbed it and blocked his number for good. When she looked up at the road, she blinked, her vision blurring for a moment. She braced for the familiar sting of tears, but when her fingers touched her skin, it was dry. It was only then that she noticed the soft patter against the windshield. A fine drizzle had begun to fall, and a quiet melancholy settled over her, as gray as the sky. Up ahead, the flickering hazard lights of a sleek black car broke the rhythm of the rain. A man in a soaked suit, looking to be in his forties, stood beside it, waving frantically at passing traffic. Almost without conscious thought, Sophia found herself flipping on her turn signal and pulling over. She rolled down her window as the man rushed over. "Everything okay?" she asked. "It's my boss," the man said, his voice tight with panic. "He's having a heart attack. The ambulance is stuck in a multi-car accident. Please, can you take us to the hospital?" Sophia hesitated. Letting two strange men into her car, especially in this weather, felt dangerous. Every cautionary tale she'd ever heard flashed through her mind. Seeing her hesitation, the man added urgently, "I promise we're not dangerous. My boss is—" But Sophia was already moving, cutting the engine and stepping out into the downpour. "Just get him to my car, now," she called out as she rushed toward their vehicle. As she got closer, she recognized the distinctive emblem of the black Maybach. Working together, they carefully transferred the elderly man from the luxury sedan into Sophia's more modest car. The old man's lips were tinged with blue, and each ragged breath seemed like a struggle, clear signs of his critical condition. Sliding behind the wheel, Sophia started the car and pulled back onto the road, pushing through the veils of rain. In the backseat, the middle-aged man was a whirlwind of activity on his phone, coordinating with a hospital and alerting the family. Beyond the windows, the storm seemed to intensify, as if trying to match the urgency inside the car. After ensuring everything was in place, the man turned to Sophia with heartfelt appreciation. "You're the only one who stopped in this downpour. We can't thank you enough." A warm smile touched Sophia's lips. "Some things are just meant to be." ***** Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital entrance where medical staff stood ready. The team swiftly transferred the elderly man to a stretcher and hurried him inside for emergency care. Just as Sophia was about to drive away, she spotted a lone leather shoe in the backseat—the one the elderly man had been wearing. After a moment's hesitation, she parked properly and carried the shoe to the reception desk, logging it as a lost item. Sophia was just turning to leave when a group emerged from the hospital's main entrance. At the front of the group was a man whose height and posture commanded attention. He turned his sharp gaze on her, and the intensity in his eyes was so commanding that it felt like a physical pressure. 'That frown means trouble,' Sophia thought. She averted her gaze and continued walking, brushing past the group without a second look. It wasn't until she was back in the driver's seat that she felt the chill of her wet clothes clinging to her skin. As she dried her hair with a towel from the backseat, a notification popped up on her phone while she was opening the navigation app. It was a post from Emily: [Nothing says 'forever' like a soft-boiled egg made with love! My ultimate comfort food.] The post featured two photos—one showed a soft-boiled egg with a ketchup heart, and the other captured a tall man's back as he stood at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Sophia couldn't help but compare. When she was with Lucas, he had acted like even pouring her a glass of water was a significant concession. Cooking a meal was utterly out of the question. The fact that he was now cooking for Emily spoke volumes about where his true affections lay. She closed the page and entered her apartment address into the navigation system before driving out of the parking lot. As she watched the heavy rain outside, a single decisive thought crystallized in her mind—this marriage was over. Chapter 6 Return The Trash To The Dumpster That evening, a text came through from Annabelle Quinn, Sophia's best friend since college, insisting they go out to a lounge. The old Sophia would have declined immediately, conditioned to obey Lucas's rule about her not going out. But now that Sophia was divorcing him, his opinions held no weight. ***** The moment Sophia stepped out of the car, she saw Annabelle waiting by the entrance. "Hope you haven't been waiting long," she said as she approached. "Just got here," Annabelle grinned, looping her arm through Sophia's. "So, what's the special occasion? Did you finally get a night off from your sweetheart?" Sophia struggled to find the words, but she couldn't keep it from her best friend. "I'm getting a divorce," she finally said. "Let me guess," Annabelle said, not one to mince words in front of her best friend. "This is about Emily being back, isn't it?" "It's not just that," Sophia admitted, her voice quiet. It just took seeing the difference for herself to truly see how little her three years of effort had meant. Annabelle threw a supportive arm around Sophia's shoulders. "You should have woken up to this a long time ago." For three years, she had watched Sophia lose herself in a hollow relationship, and it killed Annabelle to see her friend throw everything away for a man who never appreciated her. "Better late than never," Sophia offered with a weak smile. "Damn right it is," Annabelle declared. "Tonight, I'm getting us the best male models in town. You deserve some real attention." They ascended into the pulsating heart of the club, pushing through the glittering crowd toward the exclusive booth Annabelle had booked. As they moved past the entrance to a private booth, a burst of laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway. Amid the noise, Sophia's own name caught her sharp ear. "Got to hand it to Lucas. The minute Emily was back, he moved her right in. Word is, he showed Sophia the door." "Well, she had it coming. Play the simp, and you lose it all. Seriously though, that night in the booth with all the blood? I truly thought a tragedy had occurred, but it was probably just her period." "You're thinking about that? Man, have you had a thing for Sophia all along?" "Who'd pine after some nobody from a backwater? Only Lucas, with his unique preferences, would stick around for three years." "Guess the novelty wore off. Time for a change." Standing in the hallway, Sophia felt a cold stillness settle behind her eyes. The voices clicked into place—Lucas's oldest friends. They had been there that night, spectators to her most shameful moment. Annabelle's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind." But as she moved toward the door, Sophia stopped her with a gentle hand. "This is my battle to fight," Sophia said firmly. With that, Sophia pushed the door open and swept into the room. She settled gracefully onto the sofa, joining their conversation with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you're talking about unique preferences, I top him," she began, her voice deceptively light, "I recycled what Emily threw away. But it looks like I did everyone a favor by returning the trash to the dumpster where it belongs." A stunned silence fell over the room. Every face on the circular sofa stared at her in horrified fascination. Unbeknownst to Sophia, two figures had entered the room behind her during her speech. The guests' eyes darted nervously between Sophia and the newcomers, the air thickening with tension. There stood Lucas and Emily, their expressions dark as storm clouds. Their presence made Sophia turn. Her eyes instantly met the cold, dark stare of Lucas. But she didn't back down. A defiant shrug lifted her shoulders. "Look what the cat dragged in. My trash husband." Emily's eyes instantly glistened with tears. "Sophia, ignore them," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "It's all lies. Lucas and I are just friends." As if to prove her point, she clutched Lucas's arm. "Tell her, Lucas. Make her understand there's nothing going on between us." Sophia's gaze dropped to the hand clinging to Lucas's arm, and a faint, derisive smile touched her mouth. 'Just friends? Did she really expect anyone to believe that?' she thought bitterly. Lucas detached himself from Emily's grip and closed the distance between him and Sophia. The motion broke the tension, stirring his friends into action. "Hey, Lucas, take it easy," one of them said, stepping forward. "She's just reacting to our stupid jokes." "Come on, Sophia, just say you're sorry to Lucas," another one urged. "You know he'll forgive you." The suggestion made Sophia want to laugh bitterly. 'Is this really how they see me? As some lovesick fool who'd come crawling back at the first sign of forgiveness?' she thought. It explained everything—why, for three years, they had shown her phony respect as Lucas's wife while mocking her devotion in private. She had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn't met Lucas seven years ago, if that fateful incident hadn't tied her to him, she would have moved on with her life long ago. "Are you quite done?" Lucas's voice cut through her thoughts as he reached for her arm. She shifted her weight gracefully, letting his hand close on empty air. The rejected gesture hung between them for a beat too long before he withdrew, his features tightening with displeasure. Turning to Emily, who was now dabbing at her eyes, Sophia arched a brow. "There's no need for the waterworks. You're making it look like I'm the one being cruel here." "Sophia, I've treated you like my elder sister. I—" Emily began, trying to defend herself. "Don't," Sophia interrupted, her voice cool. "We arrived minutes apart, and you were first. Let's skip the emotional act." Emily's face turned from pale to deep red as she clenched her jaw in fury. 'Since when has Sophia found this kind of nerve? She used to shrink into silence whenever Lucas was near,' she thought. Despite her three-year absence from the city, Emily had ensured she received every scrap of information about Sophia's life. She knew all about Sophia's pathetic attempts to please Lucas, and she knew exactly how little he cared for his wife. She even knew they kept separate bedrooms, and that on the occasional night Lucas spent with Sophia, he always sent her back to her own room afterward. She knew that to Lucas, Sophia was just a body—convenient, disposable, and utterly unimportant. With a dark expression, Lucas grabbed Sophia's wrist and began pulling her toward the exit. Sophia's answer was a sharp, stinging slap across his cheek. The sound cracked through the air, and a dead silence fell over the room. All eyes were fixed on Sophia in pure shock. Everyone was wondering if she had lost her mind to dare something like that. Lucas slowly worked his jaw, the look in his eyes so dark that it promised retribution. When Sophia resisted, Lucas didn't hesitate. He swept her up onto his shoulder and carried her out of the room. The sight made Emily's heart clench. She'd never seen Lucas be so patient with anyone. Before she knew it, her hand was on his arm. "Lucas..." He didn't turn his head, but some of the tension left his expression. "I'm taking her home," he said firmly. "The driver will return for you when you're ready." Emily could only watch as Lucas walked away with Sophia. She had no right to stop him, but it stung—this was the first time he'd ever left her for another woman, especially one who meant nothing. Her hands tightened at her sides. 'I gave you a chance to walk away quietly, Sophia. You brought this on yourself,' she thought. Sophia's protests echoed down the hallway as she struggled against Lucas's hold. Unsure what was happening between the couple, Annabelle turned away, pretending she hadn't noticed them. Lucas carried Sophia into the elevator and stepped out briskly when it reached the basement level. As the car door opened, Lucas tossed Sophia into the back seat. Struggling upright, she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea from the prolonged time she'd spent upside down. She opened her mouth to curse, but the words died on her lips as the tinted window of a nearby Maybach began to descend. In the shadowy interior, the man's profile was sharp and forbidding. His lips were set in a firm line, and he sat with the imposing stillness of an iceberg, his presence pushing others away. Sensing her gaze, he glanced over, and their eyes locked. Without a word, Sophia averted her gaze and hid her face behind a veil of tangled hair. Chapter 7 Not Her Home Anymore Lucas's black Bentley pulled out of the underground parking garage, but Sophia was still lost in thought about those intense eyes. There was something familiar about them, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen them before. Lucas's voice broke the silence. "Did you follow me here? What are you so concerned about?" "What?" Sophia asked, snapping back to reality. Keeping his eyes on the road, Lucas tried to explain. "You know how my friends are—they never think before they speak. Don't take their words seriously. There's nothing going on between Emily and me." 'If there's really nothing between them, why was he being so protective? He only rushed me out because he was worried I might cause a scene and embarrass Emily,' Sophia thought. "Sure," Sophia said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You and Emily are completely innocent." "I'm trying to explain myself here," Lucas said, his patience wearing thin. "Do you have to be so sarcastic?" Her ungrateful attitude was beginning to irritate him. He remembered how she used to soften at the slightest reassurance. Now, it seemed her patience had worn thin. "Understood," Sophia said, her tone flat. "Is that all?" "I've been clear from the beginning—you are my wife, and that won't change. But if you want this marriage to work, you need to drop your little tricks. I won't play these games." Sophia stayed quiet, struck by his assumption that her mention of divorce was merely a plea for attention. Her silence tightened the air between them. "Don't become someone I resent, Sophia," he said with a frown, his voice low. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips as she turned toward the window, shutting him out completely. Sensing he had pushed too far, Lucas eased his tone. "I had your things moved back to our room. If you want to stay with me, just say so. There's no need for all this." Sophia was left speechless. ***** As the car came to a stop in the courtyard of Nightfall Estate, Sophia stepped out. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the cherry blossom grove in the garden. The sight sent a sharp pang through her chest. She forced her gaze away and continued into the villa. Inside, the decor had been completely redone. The new style, with its unmistakable resemblance to the Evans residence, clearly revealed who had overseen the renovations. She moved through rooms that felt entirely alien to her now, but she kept her thoughts to herself since this was no longer her home. Wendy looked surprised when she saw Sophia. "Mrs. Westwood, you've returned. Have you had your supper?" Sinking into the plush pink sofa, Sophia answered quietly, "Yes, thank you." Wendy offered a tight smile before retreating to her quarters to make a hurried phone call to Helen, reporting the unexpected arrival. Helen had never approved of Sophia, whom she saw as a plain nobody not good enough for her son. The infertility diagnosis hardened Helen's resolve to rush the divorce so Lucas could marry someone worthy of giving her grandchildren. The news of Sophia's sudden return after her dramatic departure kept Helen tossing and turning all night. Lucas had been certain Sophia would confront him about the complete makeover of their home. He stood ready to smooth things over, but she walked through the rooms without comment, her silence leaving him more unsettled than any argument would have. "If the decor isn't to your taste..." Lucas moved to sit beside her, his arms beginning to encircle her. Sophia reached for a throw pillow, tucking it between them as she shifted away from his embrace. The gentle rejection stung, though Lucas reassured himself that this was the same woman who had always adored him. "It's true. I prefer my original choices," she said calmly. "Can you have everything returned to how it was?" The warm, elegant furnishings had vanished, replaced by the overwhelming pinks that Emily favored—a transformation that had turned their home into something resembling a kitschy boutique hotel. Lucas shifted uncomfortably. "Let's not make a big deal out of it. You'll get used to the way things are around here." A faint, knowing smile curved on Sophia's lips as she met his gaze. That smile never failed to get under his skin. "Try to see it from her perspective, Sophia," he said, his voice tightening. "After everything she's been through these past three years, all Emily wants is to feel like she belongs." A wave of exhaustion washed over her. It was like talking to a brick wall. "I know," she said flatly. "You have your entire family backing you up," Lucas shot back, his patience clearly wearing thin. "But Emily? She has nobody else. Is it really so hard for you to be a little more compassionate?" "Funny," Sophia replied, her tone icy. "I was under the impression my adoptive parents were still very much alive." Besides, the Evans family had never once ceased to think about Emily throughout those three years. They made trip after trip to Felarica to celebrate Emily's birthdays and attend her parties. They even missed Sophia's wedding to Lucas because of her. A single social media post from Emily, complaining of her loneliness in Felarica, was all it took for them to drop everything and fly to her side. "Now that you've made it out of that dead-end town, you should be the last person to let Emily sink into it," he shot back. As Sophia looked at him, the last glimmer of hope in her eyes vanished. She knew well enough to stop mentioning divorce. To Lucas, it was just another act—proof that she was the same desperate woman the world thought her to be. If she couldn't get through to Lucas, she was going to find another path. Now, with her infertility diagnosis, she knew Helen would be far more impatient to act on this news. Sophia retreated to the master bedroom. Her possessions had claimed their space, with her clothes occupying half of the vast closet. A sense of normalcy had finally settled between her and Lucas, the kind that belongs to a husband and wife. But it was a fragile peace, already beginning to fray. Lucas was still in the living room when Emily returned. The air around her carried the sharp tang of liquor. Her face was deeply flushed, and she swayed slightly as she walked. He was at her side in an instant, his hand gently steadying her. "You've had far too much to drink," he murmured, his brow furrowed with worry. "This isn't good for you. I don't want to see you like this again." Emily turned into him, her arms finding their way around his neck. "I couldn't help it," she whispered, her voice thick with drink and emotion. "It's the only thing that dulls the ache." Sensing her legs might give way, he simply gathered her into his arms. "Wendy," he said to the housekeeper who had appeared, heading for the stairs. "Would you bring up some electrolyte water for Emily?" "Understood," Wendy replied. Playing the part of the drunken mess, Emily clung to Lucas and sobbed into his chest. "I've always regretted it," she cried. "Letting my pride push you away was the biggest mistake of my life." A long-buried tenderness tugged at Lucas's heart. "Let's try again, Lucas. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice," she whispered, tilting her face up to his. Just as their lips were about to meet, the master bedroom door swung open, and the sudden movement startled the couple in the hallway. Sophia stood in the doorway in her pajamas, watching them with a completely expressionless face. Lucas instantly snapped back to reality, and a rare look of panic flashed across his handsome face. "Sophie, Emily is drunk," he said quickly. "I'm just taking her back to her room." Still draped around him, Emily met Sophia's eyes over Lucas's shoulder. The tears were gone, replaced by a cool, triumphant smirk that held no trace of intoxication. Sophia's mouth curved into a humorless smile as she replied, "Yes, and you're drunk too." Without another word, she stepped back and slammed the door, the turn of the lock echoing decisively behind her. The idea of sleeping next to Lucas made her blood boil. She honestly didn't trust herself to lie beside him all night without her rage getting the better of her. Chapter 8 Divorce Settlement The next morning, as Sophia left her room, the guest room door across the hall opened at the exact same time. Lucas was stepping out, finishing with his tie. He glanced up and went completely still, finding Sophia already watching him from their bedroom doorway. Surprise flashed across his face, and he started with an explanation. "She was a mess last night," he said, his voice low. "I couldn't just leave her." Sophia's eyes dropped to the bright red smudge on his collar. Her eyes were filled with silent scorn as she thought about how filthy it was. She said with icy calm, "Relax, I know perfectly well that nothing would ever happen between you two, even when you don't have a stitch of clothing on." Her words cut off whatever excuse Lucas was about to offer. Anger darkened his features. "Think what you want," he snapped. "My feelings for her are purely brotherly." Sophia's eyes fell to the lipstick stain on his collar again. "So, how does it feel to be so close to your 'sister'?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Following her line of sight, Lucas saw the evidence, and a shadow of guilt crossed his face. "It was an accident," he insisted, his voice tight. "Don't make it sound so sordid." "So filthy," she murmured, shaking her head. As he drew a sharp breath to retaliate, she added with a cold smile, "I mean your shirt." He stared at her, his expression turning to stone. She merely offered a careless shrug and walked away, leaving him fuming in the hallway. Downstairs, Sophia was halfway through her breakfast when her phone vibrated on the table. A quick glance at the screen confirmed it was Helen calling. Just then, Wendy appeared with two additional breakfast plates. Sophia swiped to answer the call, a deliberate smile directed at Wendy. "You're calling so early, Mrs. Westwood." The pointed smile made Wendy's blood run cold, and at the mention of Mrs. Westwood, she was reminded of betraying Sophia by reporting to Helen last night. Stricken with guilt, she almost fumbled the tray. She dropped the plates onto the table and hastily retreated to the safety of the kitchen. A faint, cold smile touched Sophia's lips as Helen's venomous voice filled her ear. "Utterly devoid of manners," Helen sneered. "What else can you expect from someone with such a common background?" Sophia's eyes turned to ice. "Trace any lineage back three generations, Mrs. Westwood, and you'll find humble roots. It's distasteful to scorn your own origins." Helen found herself at a loss for words. Though Lucas's parents both had city roots, his grandparents' generation had all struggled in a backwater. Helen's parents had even lived in a cowshed. So in that regard, Helen was no better than Sophia. "That sharp tongue of yours is exactly why people can't stand you," Helen shot back. Sophia rolled her eyes in contempt. Biting back her anger, Helen forced a calmer tone. "We need to meet. There's a document for you to sign." "What kind of document?" "It'll be clear when you get here." Letting the matter drop, Sophia hung up. As she did, she saw Lucas descending the staircase. He had showered and changed, his hair perfectly styled like a model from the pages of a magazine. She had to admit, he was pleasing to look at. 'With those looks, he certainly has the assets for a career as a gigolo,' Sophia thought wryly. A smug feeling warmed Lucas as her eyes stayed on him. He drew out the chair next to hers and sat down. "Paliston Fashion Week is just around the corner," he offered. "It'll be a good chance for us to get away." In three years of marriage, it was the first time he had ever proposed such a thing. Sophia acknowledged him with a quiet hum, but she felt no spark of happiness or expectation. She saw the offer for what it was—a peace offering, born of the guilt he carried after his betrayal. Her ride showed up shortly after breakfast. Picking up her bag, Sophia walked out the door.
Chapter 1 His First Love Returned Sophia Evans could feel her world beginning to crack the moment she heard the news—the woman her husband, Lucas Westwood, had never gotten over was back. When Sophia arrived at the hotel's VIP suite with a gift, she found Lucas's first love—Emily Evans—being humiliated by his childhood friends. "Lick the wine off my shoe, Emily. I'll give you thirty thousand dollars," one of them said. Emily was forced to kneel on the floor, tears in her defiant eyes as she stared shamefully at Lucas. Lucas watched with a dark expression, saying nothing as he held his temper in check. Sophia halted mid-step, struck by the painful familiarity of the scene. Three years ago, when she had first been welcomed into the Evans family, these same privileged young men had tormented her in exactly the same way to gain Emily's favor. But back then, Lucas hadn't worn this expression of utter heartbreak. "There you are," Lucas said as soon as he spotted Sophia, his arm sliding around her waist in a show of intimacy. Only Sophia could feel the desperate pressure of his grip—a silent testament to the pain he was trying to conceal. Lucas's childhood friends had reserved the entire venue for his birthday celebration. But Sophia had never expected Emily to show up here. Everyone knew Lucas had married Sophia just to spite Emily. Three years ago, Emily's identity as a fake heiress was exposed. She broke up with Lucas then and there and left the Evans family behind. Lucas pursued her to the airport, boarded her departing flight, and forced the plane that had already taken off to turn back. Right there on that plane, he proposed to Emily. To his complete surprise, Emily refused without hesitation, declaring that the arranged marriage should be honored by the Evans family's true heiress. Humiliated and acting out of spite, Lucas married Sophia instead. For three years, Sophia had lived as Emily's stand-in. Everyone whispered that if Emily ever returned, Lucas would discard Sophia without a second thought. Sophia had once believed that too, but something had shifted in these past six months—Lucas seemed to be genuinely falling for her. He made grand declarations of love in the press, showered her with luxury homes and cars, and even replaced the cherry tree he'd planted for Emily with a garden full of red roses. In their most tender moments, he'd whisper against her ear, "Let's have a baby, Sophie. I hope they have your smile." Sophia's hand drifted absently to her stomach as she clutched the gift box a little tighter. Inside was a positive pregnancy test—meant to be Lucas's birthday surprise. But now, the timing of the gift felt all wrong. "You still think you're the Evans family princess, Emily? Lucas only has eyes for Sophia now. Why not be with me? A pretty thing like you deserves to be treated right," one of Lucas's friends, Ryan Shaw, sneered. He dragged Emily onto his lap, his hands already roaming over her. "Get your hands off me!" Emily cried, fighting against Ryan's grip as humiliation burned through her. Her resistance only fueled Ryan's excitement. In one swift motion, he shoved her down onto the couch, his powerful body trapping hers. Horrified that Ryan would assault Emily right in front of Lucas, Sophia jumped up to stop him, only to be shoved aside as Lucas already surged into action. As she stumbled, her hands instinctively reached for Lucas's arm, but he brutally shook her off. She hit the floor hard, a jolt of sharp pain shooting from her tailbone straight to her womb. Through the pain-induced haze, she saw Lucas grab Ryan by the collar, drag him off Emily, and pummel his face with brutal, unforgiving fists. "You've overstepped, Ryan. Emily is mine. Even if I discard her, she'll never be yours to touch," Lucas snapped. His words hung in the air, and the entire room fell silent as if frozen in time. Sophia stared at Lucas in disbelief, wondering where she stood in his life now that he had openly claimed Emily as his woman. All eyes in the room were drawn to the scene. Some watched with malicious delight, while others were simply captivated by the unfolding drama. Doubled over in pain, Sophia felt a warm wetness spreading beneath her. Her face paled as a cold dread gripped her heart. "Honey, my stomach hurts," she turned to Lucas instinctively. "Please, take me to the hospital." Without even glancing her way, Lucas removed his jacket and gently placed it around Emily's shoulders. Nestling into his embrace, Emily whispered, her voice trembling, "Lucas, I'm scared. Please take me away from here." "Don't worry," he murmured, holding her close. "I won't let anyone hurt you." Sweeping Emily into his arms, Lucas carried her out of the room, completely ignoring Sophia's pain-racked form shuddering on the floor. Perched comfortably on his shoulder, Emily gazed down at Sophia's crumpled form on the floor, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. The spectators murmured among themselves, still savoring the drama they'd just witnessed. "Emily's definitely the one for Lucas. He hasn't taken his eyes off her all night." "The way Lucas looks at her... I thought it was hatred, but it's clearly something else entirely." "Who could resist someone like her? I certainly wouldn't be able to stay angry." "Poor Sophia. She was just a side character in their love story." At the mention of Sophia's name, the crowd remembered her presence simultaneously, their attention shifting to where she sat. Sophia was in terrible pain and covered in a cold sweat until someone finally noticed her condition and quickly helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?" the guy asked. She gripped his arm tightly as the room spun around her. "Please take me to the hospital. My stomach hurts terribly," she pleaded. Then everything went dark as she fainted. Through the haze of semi-consciousness, distant screams about blood echoed in her ears. When Sophia regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital room. The sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the air as she lay alone in the quiet ward. A nurse tending to her bandages noticed her awakening. "You're awake," she said softly. Sophia's voice came out weak and fearful. "My baby... Is my baby alright?" "Your baby is fine," the nurse reassured her. "But you'll need to take special care. These first few months are particularly delicate in your condition." Relief washed over Sophia as grateful tears fell. "Thank you," she whispered, overwhelmed that her child was safe. Through the emotional turmoil, Sophia's first thought was to share the news with Lucas immediately. Wiping her tears, she reached for her phone and dialed his number. The phone rang several times before Lucas finally picked up. His voice was edged with impatience as he answered, "Not coming home tonight. Don't wait—" "Lucas, my hair's caught in this zipper," Emily's voice interrupted, floating through the line. "Could you give me a hand?" Sophia's knuckles went white around her phone. "Be right there," he said. The call ended before Sophia could form a response. Overnight, things between her and Lucas had reverted to how they were six months ago. Back then, he'd been all cold shoulders and sharp tones. Even in their most intimate moments, he treated her like just another need to be met. To him, she might as well have been a stranger—or worse, just a convenient body. So when he finally let his guard down, she'd been so grateful for the warmth that she fell harder than she ever meant to. She thought her years of longing had finally paid off. But reality slapped her senseless when Lucas chose Emily's safety over their own child's life. After being discharged from the hospital, Sophia caught a taxi home. Midway through the ride, her phone buzzed with a Twitter alert. It was a tweet from Emily: [You told me you'd hold my hand and never let go—not for the rest of our lives.] The attached photo showed Emily dressed like a princess, complete with a tiny crown, her hand locked tightly with a larger, elegant hand. Around the wrist was a bracelet made of prayer beads—the very one Sophia had prayed for in a church last year, when Lucas was burning up with fever. That day, he squeezed her hand and whispered a promise that he would never leave her side. Chapter 2 Ask Him For A Divorce The taxi stopped outside the Nightfall Estate, where Sophia paid the fare and got out of the vehicle. She was just heading inside when a truck carrying young cherry trees rumbled up the drive and stopped near the garden. Workers carefully unloaded the cherry trees and settled them into the prepared holes. Where a vibrant sea of red roses had bloomed just yesterday, now only upturned earth remained, with the plants piled carelessly to the side. A dull ache spread through Sophia's chest as she gazed at the rose petals strewn like crimson tears across the soil. The familiar purr of a luxury car engine approached from behind. Turning around, Sophia saw Lucas step out of the car. He stood tall and straight, radiating a natural air of calm elegance. "Honey..." Sophia began, but the words died on her lips as he leaned back into the car. With gentle care, he helped a woman step out—it was Emily, who looked radiant in an exquisite designer ensemble that made her complexion glow. Only when Emily was steady did Lucas's gaze finally meet Sophia's, those usually warm eyes now regarding her with detached indifference. "Did you need something?" he asked, his tone flat. The cold unfamiliarity in his look struck Sophia's heart like a physical blow. "Why are you tearing out the roses when they were growing so well?" she asked, desperate for his explanation. Those roses had been his special way of confessing his feelings to her. Lucas barely glanced at the destroyed garden. "Emily's not feeling well. She'll be staying with us for a bit." "What does that have to do with the roses?" she pressed. "She's allergic to the pollen," he said curtly, already turning to guide Emily inside. Sophia stood rooted to the spot, her heart breaking. Emily's delicate voice carried through the air. "Lucas, Sophia seems upset. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have complained about the roses." "She doesn't matter to me," Lucas reassured her. "But I worry she'll resent me. Really, I can manage with allergy medication," Emily offered, her voice dripping with false concern. "Medication always has side effects. Don't suggest things that worry me," he replied. Sophia stood motionless as she watched their figures grow smaller in the distance. A silent tear traced its way down her cheek while overwhelming sorrow washed over her. 'I don't matter to him... Yeah, right,' Sophia murmured with bitter irony, the truth of the words settling like a weight in her heart. He hadn't even asked about her absence last night, and now he had ordered her favorite roses to be torn out. The message was clear—she meant less to him than the slightest thought of Emily. For three years, she had devoted herself to him, offering unwavering love and comfort through difficult times. She had believed her constant warmth could thaw even the coldest heart, but Emily's reappearance had erased everything in an instant. She wondered what their intimacy these past six months had truly meant, and what role she had actually played in his life. A sudden twinge in her lower abdomen made her catch her breath. Pale and unsteady, she turned toward the villa. As Sophia stepped into the living room, she saw Emily nestled against Lucas on the sofa, watching with affectionate amusement as he peeled an orange for her. Lucas gently picked away every bit of white pith from the orange segments before arranging them on a plate for Emily. "For you," he said with a soft smile. "Enjoy, my little foodie." As Emily took the plate, she noticed Sophia entering the room. A triumphant smile graced her lips as she called out, "Sophia, would you like some? Lucas peeled these himself. Something you've never experienced, I'm sure." Sophia's gaze fell upon the perfectly prepared orange segments, and she felt a sudden sting behind her eyes. The painful truth was that in all their time together, Lucas had never once peeled an orange for her. She had always been the one serving him. The realization struck her with perfect clarity—Lucas knew well how to be thoughtful, but he simply reserved his kindness for Emily. Sophia felt her heart breaking into pieces as she finally understood how painful comparison could be. "She's perfectly capable of peeling her own fruit," Lucas said dismissively, barely glancing at Sophia. Then he noticed her pale complexion and added, "Are you alright? You look terribly pale." Sophia's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she debated telling Lucas her secret pregnancy. A fragile hope whispered within her—that this truth might finally soften his heart toward her. "I..." Her voice faltered, the words dying on her lips. "If you're ill, see a doctor. This pathetic act is getting tiresome," Lucas said, impatience flashing across his handsome features. He was annoyed by her wounded expression, which seemed to suggest she was the victim of some terrible injustice. Sophia swallowed her unspoken words, her gaze lingering on the man who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. "I'm fine," she murmured. "I'll just go to my room." As she turned toward the staircase, Lucas felt a surge of irritation. 'I must've been too lenient with her, and now she dared to show me attitude,' he thought, fuming. Sophia had only climbed a few steps when the housekeeper, Wendy, appeared descending the stairs with servants carrying boxes. The items looked familiar, but it was the sight of her stuffed doll in Wendy's arms that made Sophia realize everything they carried was hers. In a swift motion, she stepped forward and snatched the doll. Her voice turned icy as she asked, "Wendy, care to explain this?" "Mr. Westwood's orders," Wendy said quietly. "You're to move to the storage room downstairs." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, leaving her mind reeling. She turned to Lucas, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious." They'd already maintained separate bedrooms, but she never imagined that she'd be banished to a storage room instead of even being offered the guest suite after Emily's return. For a fleeting moment under her gaze, Lucas felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly hardened into resolve. "Emily needs the sunroom for her health," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your room gets the best light. It's better for her recovery." The absurdity of it all drew a bitter laugh from Sophia's lips. She thought his previous cruelty—shoving her while pregnant and replacing her roses with Emily's cherry trees—had been the worst it could get. But this new humiliation surpassed even that. All Lucas had done since Emily's return yesterday was talk about her. In just one day, she had turned Sophia's whole life upside down. Sophia expected to feel rage, but instead found only a hollow emptiness settling in her chest. 'Look at him, Sophia,' Sophia thought bitterly. 'This is the man you gave your heart and soul to. Was any of it worth it?' "If you're so worried about her comfort, why not just move her into your room? The master suite gets the best light anyway," Sophia shot back. Lucas responded sharply, "Sophia, you need to watch your tone." Emily's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I know you don't want me here, Sophia. I'll go. Please don't fight with Lucas over me." Sophia saw right through Emily's act. A humorless laugh escaped her as she spat, "You're not going anywhere. I am." Tightening her grip on the stuffed doll, she turned and headed for the door. "Don't you dare, Sophia." Lucas rose to his feet, his voice cutting through the room. "Walk out that door now, and don't expect to ever come back." Sophia's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "I'll make sure you receive the divorce papers," she said, her voice cold and steady. "See that you sign them." "You're asking me for a divorce?" Lucas's voice was low, thick with barely restrained fury. He added, his tone edged with contempt, "Have you forgotten who gave you this life, Sophia? The luxury, the status—all of it came from me. Without my name, you're just that wide-eyed girl fresh off that forgotten little town. You don't get to leave." Chapter 3 The Replaced Medical Result Sophia didn't need to look back to know the condescending smirk that was surely on Lucas's face. She knew he had always despised her. His proposal three years ago had been motivated only by a desire to fulfill the marriage agreement between their families and to exact revenge on Emily. She had been naive enough to believe his empty promises, offering him her genuine love when he saw her as nothing more than a pawn. To him, she would always be a leech, clinging to his wealth and name for survival. But now, she had reached her limit, and she no longer wanted him in her life. Sophia walked out without a backward glance. As she stepped through the gateway, the sound of shattering porcelain echoed behind her, but she no longer cared. Lucas stood amid the shattered remains, fingers pressed to his temples. His face was a mask of simmering anger. He dismissed the mention of divorce as just another one of her calculated moves, a transparent attempt to get his attention by pulling away. Emily watched him hesitantly. "Maybe I shouldn't be staying here, Lucas. Sophia seemed really upset." "It's nothing," Lucas replied evenly. Seeing how the mention of divorce had affected him, she suggested softly, "You could go after her. Women usually respond well to a little reassurance." "I don't have time for that," Lucas said, turning toward the staircase. With a business trip looming, his mind was elsewhere. 'Let her make a scene if she wants to,' he thought. 'She'll cool off and come crawling back. She always does.' ***** Sophia's home was a beautiful 3,200-square-foot apartment with an open-concept layout and sleek modern decor—all paid for with her own earnings. In her study, she printed the divorce papers and a letter resigning from her position. With a steady hand, she signed both, and then summoned a courier to deliver them directly to the Westwood Group. When she married Lucas three years ago, Sophia had joined his company, hoping to build a genuine connection with him. She started at the very bottom as an assistant and gradually earned her way up to department manager. She had wanted nothing more than to be close to him—in their home and at work. But in the end, her efforts were met with cold indifference. Gazing downward, Sophia softly cradled her stomach. "It's just us now, little one," she whispered. The courier arrived at Westwood headquarters while Lucas was away. His chief executive assistant, Kevin Chapman, received the delivery and signed. The moment Kevin saw the contents, he reached for the phone, dialing Lucas's number in haste. "Mr. Westwood, your wife has sent divorce documents." "Burn it all." On the other side of the ocean, Lucas loosened his tie as an unexpected wave of irritation came over him. "But Mrs. Westwood has even submitted her resignation letter..." Kevin replied, his tone hesitant. "She can't survive without this family." The blue flame from Lucas's lighter highlighted the grim set of his features. "Let her be. She'll come crawling back once reality sets in." Meanwhile, Sophia remained completely unaware of his words. Her morning had begun with a call from her mother-in-law, Helen Westwood. "Where are you? Return at once," Helen commanded in her typically imperious manner, leaving no room for discussion. Complying, Sophia drove back to the estate. No sooner had she stepped inside than a velvet box came hurling toward her head, which she narrowly avoided by stepping aside. Helen's shrill voice pierced the air. "How dare you avoid that? You've got some nerve." Sophia's gaze fell upon the velvet box at her feet, and suddenly, she understood why it seemed familiar. She remembered purchasing that exact box to store her pregnancy test results. On Lucas's birthday, she had intended to present it to him as a gift, but he had accidentally pushed her before she could give it to him, resulting in her hospitalization. Her heart leaped as she turned to face Helen's livid expression. 'Could she know about the pregnancy? But something about her reaction seems strange,' she wondered. For three years, Helen had made no secret of her disapproval of Sophia, someone raised in a small town. Yet every time Sophia visited the Westwood residence with Lucas, Helen would consistently nag Sophia about starting a family soon. If Helen knew Sophia was pregnant, she was supposed to be absolutely delighted instead of reacting like this. Helen clutched a medical report, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared down Sophia. "For three years, I've watched your marriage to Lucas, wondering why you never conceived. Now I understand—he married a barren woman. "If you hadn't left this at the hotel and Lucas's friend hadn't been kind enough to deliver it, I'd still be in the dark about your condition." Heart pounding with shock, Sophia ignored Helen's murderous gaze and snatched the document from her hand. The clinical report lay cold and pale in the morning light. There was her name, clearly printed, alongside the devastating diagnosis: "permanent infertility." 'Permanent infertility? But that's impossible. I'm pregnant. Someone must have switched my test results. But who would do such a thing?' Sophia wondered. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "This isn't my..." Emily, who had remained silent until now, suddenly interrupted, "Sophia, the Westwood lineage has been passed down through a single heir for ten generations. Are you trying to ensure Lucas dies without an heir? To extinguish the family line completely?" "How utterly heartless!" Helen exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Sophia as her anger reached its peak. "We've welcomed you with open arms since you married into this family. Yet you've been hiding this from us? To think you'd let our family line die out—it's truly despicable!" she added. Sophia didn't even attempt to explain herself. If they wanted to believe she was barren, so be it—it would only simplify the divorce proceedings. "I only received the results two days ago. I hadn't found the right moment to share the news," Sophia replied, her voice calm. "This wasn't about finding the right moment. You did this intentionally," Helen retorted, her face contorted with rage. "And you planned to give this to Lucas as a gift? What kind of twisted mind would conceive such a thing?" Sophia maintained her silence. Helen took a measured breath, forcing her anger down. "If you can't conceive naturally, I won't hold it against you. I've spoken with Emily, and she's agreed to donate her eggs so you and Lucas can pursue in vitro fertilization." Sophia stared in disbelief at the unexpected turn. "Could you repeat that?" She believed she had misheard because the suggestion was both preposterous and deeply offensive. "If you can't conceive, that's your problem. Emily is being extraordinarily generous by offering her eggs. The least you could do is show some appreciation instead of this ingratitude," Helen sneered. A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. "Perhaps you'd like to accept this generous offer yourself?" "How dare you speak to me like that!" Helen's eyes flashed with fury. "Sophia, you shouldn't speak to Mrs. Westwood that way. She was suggesting that for your sake," Emily said in a honeyed tone, reaching for the glass. As she moved, she made certain to display the prayer beads circling her delicate wrist. Sophia's breath caught—she would recognize the bracelet anywhere. That was the very ones she had sacrificed so much to obtain while praying for Lucas's recovery. It felt like a personal insult, seeing the bracelet that symbolized her love for Lucas now clasped around Emily's wrist. "For my sake?" Sophia repeated, the words tasting bitter as she caught the sly glint of satisfaction in Emily's eyes. It sent a sharp ache through her. She knew this game all too well. Emily had a gift for twisting people's vulnerabilities to her advantage, a lesson Sophia had learned the hard way three years ago. "I'm infertile. What possible use could I have for your eggs?" Sophia asked, her voice cold. "Do you really think I need a constant reminder of what I can't have?" Emily's smile vanished. For Helen's benefit, she bit her lip, her eyes instantly welling with feigned hurt. "Mrs. Westwood," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "I was only trying to help Sophia." Helen immediately comforted Emily by patting her hand. She then shot Sophia a disapproving look. "How can you be so selfish, Sophia? Are you really determined to let the Westwood family line die out?" Sophia gestured dismissively toward Emily. "Well, if she's so fertile, let her handle the baby-making." The thought of Emily getting to be a mother the easy way turned Sophia's stomach. Chapter 4 Take Back Her Things The color drained from both Helen's and Emily's faces. Helen stepped forward, jabbing a finger toward Sophia. "You think you're better than us? Then you give the Westwood family an heir. Don't blame anyone else for your own useless womb." Sophia bit back the sharp retort on her tongue. She was done with this family, done with Lucas. Arguing now would only prolong the inevitable. "Mrs. Westwood," she began, "I've decided—" Lucas's familiar, deep voice cut through the tension from the doorway. "Decided what?" Sophia turned to see Lucas standing there, his clothes rumpled from travel. His assistant, Kevin, hovered behind him with a suitcase in hand. The air in the room was thick with tension, so Kevin knew better than to stay. He simply left the suitcase by the door and made a quick exit. Loosening his tie, Lucas turned to Helen. "Mom, what brings you here?" "If I hadn't come, you'd have let our family name die out," Helen shot back. She then snatched the medical report from Sophia and flung it at Lucas's chest. "See for yourself," she said coldly, and with that, she swept out of the room. Lucas looked down at the document in his hands, and the words "permanent infertility" caused a faint twitch in his brow. His eyes, when they finally lifted to meet Sophia's, were devoid of warmth. "You'll go back to the hospital tomorrow for a full work-up. I will not have a wife who can't give me an heir." A hollow ache spread through Sophia's chest. Any foolish hope she'd been clinging to finally faded. Lucas had never defended her in three years of his mother's constant belittlement. And now, the ease with which he believed this lie revealed the chilling truth of his character. "I have the divorce papers right here," Sophia said, pulling the documents from her bag. She extended them toward him, her voice steady. "Just sign them, and you'll never have to see me again." Lucas didn't even look at the papers. In one swift motion, his hand closed around her throat, pulling her close. He leaned in until his face was mere inches from hers, and she could feel his warm breath and smell the familiar scent of his cologne. There was a time when this closeness would have made her heart flutter. Now, it only made her skin crawl. It was amazing how easy it was to walk away when all the love had drained away. "Sophia, have I been too soft with you?" Lucas's voice was thick with contempt. "Where exactly do you think you'll go without my protection?" She held his gaze without flinching. "That's really none of your concern anymore." "Still got that sharp tongue," he sneered. He released her with a dismissive shove, as if her defiance meant nothing. "Go make me dinner. I'm hungry." A wave of pain shot through Sophia's lower abdomen as she sank into the sofa, her skin turning clammy with an instant, cold sweat. Across the room, Emily slid her arm through Lucas's with practiced ease. "Don't let Sophia bother you," she murmured. "Her little scene was just a cry for your attention." Lucas pulled his tie free, his stern expression melting away as he focused on Emily. "How are you holding up?" he asked, his tone gentler. "I'm fine," she sighed, putting on a pitiful face. "It's just that the medicine is so awfully bitter." "It's bitter because it's strong. You need to keep taking it," he reminded her. "I picked up those candies you like. They're in my suitcase. Go get them yourself." "I know you always look out for me," Emily said, stretching up to press a light kiss to Lucas's cheek. "Consider that your reward." A look of quiet satisfaction crossed his features at the gesture. "I'm going up to shower," he said. "Go ahead," Emily said sweetly, fluttering a wave at him. She waited until Lucas's footsteps faded up the staircase before turning to the suitcase. They carried on as if Sophia weren't standing right there in the same room. Humming cheerfully, Emily unzipped the luggage. Alongside Lucas's neatly folded clothes sat a jar of shimmering candies and an elegant red velvet box that clearly held something valuable. Her eyes skipped over the candy, going straight to the velvet box. When she lifted the lid, a pink diamond necklace lay gleaming, its facets scattering rainbows in the light. "Oh, it's exquisite. I love it," she whispered, her eyes widening. "So the candy was just a decoy. This necklace is what he really wanted me to find." Draping the necklace against her collarbone, Emily turned to face Sophia, who had risen from the sofa. "Well, Sophia? Don't you think it suits me perfectly?" The pink diamond necklace around Emily's neck struck Sophia as oddly familiar. It came to her a moment later—she had coveted it last month while flipping through a magazine. Lucas had seen her fascination and promised to get it for her. The catch was its exclusivity—a single piece, sourced from Melaria, the country where Lucas had been attending to business. "That was for me," Sophia said, her voice calm. The man was disposable, but her possessions were not. She would reclaim what was rightfully hers. With a swift motion, Emily clasped the necklace. "Finders keepers," she said with a mocking grin. Sophia approached for a closer look. Though the necklace was more exquisite than its photograph, any desire for it had vanished. A wary look crossed Emily's face. "What is this about?" "To take what belongs to me, of course," Sophia said, stepping close and extending her hand. "It's time you returned it." Emily's hands instinctively flew to the diamond necklace at her throat. "Lucas will never stand for this, Sophia. You know what I mean to him." Sophia almost laughed. She knew well that Emily held a special place in Lucas's heart. But that was irrelevant. She was only claiming what was hers. "Give the bracelet back to me," Sophia said coldly. It was a token earned through true devotion, and she wouldn't let its significance be tarnished. Realizing Sophia only wanted the simple bracelet, Emily smiled condescendingly. 'Some shortsighted people have no taste,' she thought. Emily twisted the bracelet around her wrist. "I heard you went to Grace Abbey to beg for this good-luck charm," she said. "You are so hung up on him, aren't you?" The hypocrisy of her words was almost laughable. "Give it back," Sophia said, her voice like ice. Emily's eyes flickered to a point behind Sophia, and a sly smile touched her lips. She lowered her voice. "If you want it so badly, why don't you come and take it?" Sophia didn't stop to think. She grabbed Emily's wrist and tugged the bracelet free. The moment it was off, Emily's demeanor shifted completely. "Sophia, what are you doing?" she cried out, her voice suddenly loud and panicked. "Lucas gave this to me." Before Sophia could even turn around, a powerful hand seized her by the collar and hauled her backwards. The fabric dug sharply into her throat, stealing her breath. Stumbling to regain her footing, Sophia looked up to see Lucas. He was already cradling Emily. "Emily, are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern. Emily buried her face in his chest. "I'm fine," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Please, don't be angry with Sophia. She didn't mean it." Lucas's jaw tightened, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. He took a deep breath and fixed Sophia with an icy stare. "Apologize to Emily." Chapter 5 She Wants A Clean Break A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. She had fooled herself into thinking she was numb to Lucas's coldness. But his command still sent a fresh, sharp pain through her chest. She knew there was no point arguing with a man who had already chosen the other woman's side. "I won't apologize," Sophia said, her fist closing tightly around the bracelet. "What for?" Emily looked up at Lucas with well-practiced vulnerability. "I'm causing trouble here, Lucas. I should go." Lucas caught her wrist before she could take a second step. "You're staying right here." His attention snapped back to Sophia, his expression darkening. "Now, Sophia, apologize to Emily." The room blurred as tears filled Sophia's eyes, twisting his familiar face into a stranger's. She lifted the simple bracelet between them. "This is my stuff in the first place. Since when is taking back what was stolen a crime?" "Your stuff? Since when do you have anything of your own?" Lucas's lips curled in a sneer. "I've paid for every stitch of clothing on your back." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, forcing a bitter laugh from her lips. He knew perfectly well she earned her own living, yet he took every opportunity to demean her. "This bracelet came from Grace Abbey," she countered, her voice trembling. "You didn't pay a cent for it." Lucas's eyes dropped to the simple beads in her palm. "You think I care about some cheap bracelet?" he scoffed. Hot tears streamed down Sophia's face without warning. Wiping them away, Sophia made a silent vow—this would be the last time he reduced her to this. "Fine!" With one sharp motion, she snapped the bracelet's cord, sending beads skittering across the floor. Lucas watched the scattered beads come to rest, his hand curling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. He knew how much that bracelet meant to her, but the moment Emily wanted it, he didn't hesitate to take it off and hand it over. Lucas's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "Sophia!" "I want a divorce," Sophia said, her voice eerily calm. As she opened her hand, the last bead from the bracelet clattered onto the floor between them. "Let's just end this." The sound was small, but in the tense silence, it was deafening, echoing in Lucas's mind. He let out a short laugh, his gaze locked on her. "You think a threat will work? You should know better than that by now." 'This has to be a ploy,' he thought to himself. 'She loves me too much to go through with it. She has accepted her role as Emily's replacement from the beginning and has never once tried to leave. 'She would never have the strength to walk away from me.' "Go make us something to eat, and we can forget this ever happened." Lucas was certain he had thrown Sophia a lifeline. He waited, fully expecting her to be overcome with relief and scurry off to the kitchen. He'd been away on business, and days of unfamiliar rich food had left his stomach unsettled. What he craved was Sophia's cooking—simple, hearty food that tasted like home. It was a flavor he couldn't find anywhere else. "You can go eat your ass," Sophia shot back. She picked up her bag, her lips twisting into a scornful smile, and walked out without a backward glance. That smile grated on Lucas's nerves more than the insult itself. In his frustration, his eyes fell on the string of prayer beads lying scattered on the floor, and he gave them an impatient kick. 'So that's her game. She wants to challenge me? I'd like to see just how long her resolve will hold,' he thought, fuming. ***** Sophia sped away from Nightfall Estate, her phone buzzing relentlessly on the passenger seat. Lucas's name flashed across the screen again and again until she finally grabbed it and blocked his number for good. When she looked up at the road, she blinked, her vision blurring for a moment. She braced for the familiar sting of tears, but when her fingers touched her skin, it was dry. It was only then that she noticed the soft patter against the windshield. A fine drizzle had begun to fall, and a quiet melancholy settled over her, as gray as the sky. Up ahead, the flickering hazard lights of a sleek black car broke the rhythm of the rain. A man in a soaked suit, looking to be in his forties, stood beside it, waving frantically at passing traffic. Almost without conscious thought, Sophia found herself flipping on her turn signal and pulling over. She rolled down her window as the man rushed over. "Everything okay?" she asked. "It's my boss," the man said, his voice tight with panic. "He's having a heart attack. The ambulance is stuck in a multi-car accident. Please, can you take us to the hospital?" Sophia hesitated. Letting two strange men into her car, especially in this weather, felt dangerous. Every cautionary tale she'd ever heard flashed through her mind. Seeing her hesitation, the man added urgently, "I promise we're not dangerous. My boss is—" But Sophia was already moving, cutting the engine and stepping out into the downpour. "Just get him to my car, now," she called out as she rushed toward their vehicle. As she got closer, she recognized the distinctive emblem of the black Maybach. Working together, they carefully transferred the elderly man from the luxury sedan into Sophia's more modest car. The old man's lips were tinged with blue, and each ragged breath seemed like a struggle, clear signs of his critical condition. Sliding behind the wheel, Sophia started the car and pulled back onto the road, pushing through the veils of rain. In the backseat, the middle-aged man was a whirlwind of activity on his phone, coordinating with a hospital and alerting the family. Beyond the windows, the storm seemed to intensify, as if trying to match the urgency inside the car. After ensuring everything was in place, the man turned to Sophia with heartfelt appreciation. "You're the only one who stopped in this downpour. We can't thank you enough." A warm smile touched Sophia's lips. "Some things are just meant to be." ***** Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital entrance where medical staff stood ready. The team swiftly transferred the elderly man to a stretcher and hurried him inside for emergency care. Just as Sophia was about to drive away, she spotted a lone leather shoe in the backseat—the one the elderly man had been wearing. After a moment's hesitation, she parked properly and carried the shoe to the reception desk, logging it as a lost item. Sophia was just turning to leave when a group emerged from the hospital's main entrance. At the front of the group was a man whose height and posture commanded attention. He turned his sharp gaze on her, and the intensity in his eyes was so commanding that it felt like a physical pressure. 'That frown means trouble,' Sophia thought. She averted her gaze and continued walking, brushing past the group without a second look. It wasn't until she was back in the driver's seat that she felt the chill of her wet clothes clinging to her skin. As she dried her hair with a towel from the backseat, a notification popped up on her phone while she was opening the navigation app. It was a post from Emily: [Nothing says 'forever' like a soft-boiled egg made with love! My ultimate comfort food.] The post featured two photos—one showed a soft-boiled egg with a ketchup heart, and the other captured a tall man's back as he stood at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Sophia couldn't help but compare. When she was with Lucas, he had acted like even pouring her a glass of water was a significant concession. Cooking a meal was utterly out of the question. The fact that he was now cooking for Emily spoke volumes about where his true affections lay. She closed the page and entered her apartment address into the navigation system before driving out of the parking lot. As she watched the heavy rain outside, a single decisive thought crystallized in her mind—this marriage was over. Chapter 6 Return The Trash To The Dumpster That evening, a text came through from Annabelle Quinn, Sophia's best friend since college, insisting they go out to a lounge. The old Sophia would have declined immediately, conditioned to obey Lucas's rule about her not going out. But now that Sophia was divorcing him, his opinions held no weight. ***** The moment Sophia stepped out of the car, she saw Annabelle waiting by the entrance. "Hope you haven't been waiting long," she said as she approached. "Just got here," Annabelle grinned, looping her arm through Sophia's. "So, what's the special occasion? Did you finally get a night off from your sweetheart?" Sophia struggled to find the words, but she couldn't keep it from her best friend. "I'm getting a divorce," she finally said. "Let me guess," Annabelle said, not one to mince words in front of her best friend. "This is about Emily being back, isn't it?" "It's not just that," Sophia admitted, her voice quiet. It just took seeing the difference for herself to truly see how little her three years of effort had meant. Annabelle threw a supportive arm around Sophia's shoulders. "You should have woken up to this a long time ago." For three years, she had watched Sophia lose herself in a hollow relationship, and it killed Annabelle to see her friend throw everything away for a man who never appreciated her. "Better late than never," Sophia offered with a weak smile. "Damn right it is," Annabelle declared. "Tonight, I'm getting us the best male models in town. You deserve some real attention." They ascended into the pulsating heart of the club, pushing through the glittering crowd toward the exclusive booth Annabelle had booked. As they moved past the entrance to a private booth, a burst of laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway. Amid the noise, Sophia's own name caught her sharp ear. "Got to hand it to Lucas. The minute Emily was back, he moved her right in. Word is, he showed Sophia the door." "Well, she had it coming. Play the simp, and you lose it all. Seriously though, that night in the booth with all the blood? I truly thought a tragedy had occurred, but it was probably just her period." "You're thinking about that? Man, have you had a thing for Sophia all along?" "Who'd pine after some nobody from a backwater? Only Lucas, with his unique preferences, would stick around for three years." "Guess the novelty wore off. Time for a change." Standing in the hallway, Sophia felt a cold stillness settle behind her eyes. The voices clicked into place—Lucas's oldest friends. They had been there that night, spectators to her most shameful moment. Annabelle's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind." But as she moved toward the door, Sophia stopped her with a gentle hand. "This is my battle to fight," Sophia said firmly. With that, Sophia pushed the door open and swept into the room. She settled gracefully onto the sofa, joining their conversation with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you're talking about unique preferences, I top him," she began, her voice deceptively light, "I recycled what Emily threw away. But it looks like I did everyone a favor by returning the trash to the dumpster where it belongs." A stunned silence fell over the room. Every face on the circular sofa stared at her in horrified fascination. Unbeknownst to Sophia, two figures had entered the room behind her during her speech. The guests' eyes darted nervously between Sophia and the newcomers, the air thickening with tension. There stood Lucas and Emily, their expressions dark as storm clouds. Their presence made Sophia turn. Her eyes instantly met the cold, dark stare of Lucas. But she didn't back down. A defiant shrug lifted her shoulders. "Look what the cat dragged in. My trash husband." Emily's eyes instantly glistened with tears. "Sophia, ignore them," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "It's all lies. Lucas and I are just friends." As if to prove her point, she clutched Lucas's arm. "Tell her, Lucas. Make her understand there's nothing going on between us." Sophia's gaze dropped to the hand clinging to Lucas's arm, and a faint, derisive smile touched her mouth. 'Just friends? Did she really expect anyone to believe that?' she thought bitterly. Lucas detached himself from Emily's grip and closed the distance between him and Sophia. The motion broke the tension, stirring his friends into action. "Hey, Lucas, take it easy," one of them said, stepping forward. "She's just reacting to our stupid jokes." "Come on, Sophia, just say you're sorry to Lucas," another one urged. "You know he'll forgive you." The suggestion made Sophia want to laugh bitterly. 'Is this really how they see me? As some lovesick fool who'd come crawling back at the first sign of forgiveness?' she thought. It explained everything—why, for three years, they had shown her phony respect as Lucas's wife while mocking her devotion in private. She had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn't met Lucas seven years ago, if that fateful incident hadn't tied her to him, she would have moved on with her life long ago. "Are you quite done?" Lucas's voice cut through her thoughts as he reached for her arm. She shifted her weight gracefully, letting his hand close on empty air. The rejected gesture hung between them for a beat too long before he withdrew, his features tightening with displeasure. Turning to Emily, who was now dabbing at her eyes, Sophia arched a brow. "There's no need for the waterworks. You're making it look like I'm the one being cruel here." "Sophia, I've treated you like my elder sister. I—" Emily began, trying to defend herself. "Don't," Sophia interrupted, her voice cool. "We arrived minutes apart, and you were first. Let's skip the emotional act." Emily's face turned from pale to deep red as she clenched her jaw in fury. 'Since when has Sophia found this kind of nerve? She used to shrink into silence whenever Lucas was near,' she thought. Despite her three-year absence from the city, Emily had ensured she received every scrap of information about Sophia's life. She knew all about Sophia's pathetic attempts to please Lucas, and she knew exactly how little he cared for his wife. She even knew they kept separate bedrooms, and that on the occasional night Lucas spent with Sophia, he always sent her back to her own room afterward. She knew that to Lucas, Sophia was just a body—convenient, disposable, and utterly unimportant. With a dark expression, Lucas grabbed Sophia's wrist and began pulling her toward the exit. Sophia's answer was a sharp, stinging slap across his cheek. The sound cracked through the air, and a dead silence fell over the room. All eyes were fixed on Sophia in pure shock. Everyone was wondering if she had lost her mind to dare something like that. Lucas slowly worked his jaw, the look in his eyes so dark that it promised retribution. When Sophia resisted, Lucas didn't hesitate. He swept her up onto his shoulder and carried her out of the room. The sight made Emily's heart clench. She'd never seen Lucas be so patient with anyone. Before she knew it, her hand was on his arm. "Lucas..." He didn't turn his head, but some of the tension left his expression. "I'm taking her home," he said firmly. "The driver will return for you when you're ready." Emily could only watch as Lucas walked away with Sophia. She had no right to stop him, but it stung—this was the first time he'd ever left her for another woman, especially one who meant nothing. Her hands tightened at her sides. 'I gave you a chance to walk away quietly, Sophia. You brought this on yourself,' she thought. Sophia's protests echoed down the hallway as she struggled against Lucas's hold. Unsure what was happening between the couple, Annabelle turned away, pretending she hadn't noticed them. Lucas carried Sophia into the elevator and stepped out briskly when it reached the basement level. As the car door opened, Lucas tossed Sophia into the back seat. Struggling upright, she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea from the prolonged time she'd spent upside down. She opened her mouth to curse, but the words died on her lips as the tinted window of a nearby Maybach began to descend. In the shadowy interior, the man's profile was sharp and forbidding. His lips were set in a firm line, and he sat with the imposing stillness of an iceberg, his presence pushing others away. Sensing her gaze, he glanced over, and their eyes locked. Without a word, Sophia averted her gaze and hid her face behind a veil of tangled hair. Chapter 7 Not Her Home Anymore Lucas's black Bentley pulled out of the underground parking garage, but Sophia was still lost in thought about those intense eyes. There was something familiar about them, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen them before. Lucas's voice broke the silence. "Did you follow me here? What are you so concerned about?" "What?" Sophia asked, snapping back to reality. Keeping his eyes on the road, Lucas tried to explain. "You know how my friends are—they never think before they speak. Don't take their words seriously. There's nothing going on between Emily and me." 'If there's really nothing between them, why was he being so protective? He only rushed me out because he was worried I might cause a scene and embarrass Emily,' Sophia thought. "Sure," Sophia said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You and Emily are completely innocent." "I'm trying to explain myself here," Lucas said, his patience wearing thin. "Do you have to be so sarcastic?" Her ungrateful attitude was beginning to irritate him. He remembered how she used to soften at the slightest reassurance. Now, it seemed her patience had worn thin. "Understood," Sophia said, her tone flat. "Is that all?" "I've been clear from the beginning—you are my wife, and that won't change. But if you want this marriage to work, you need to drop your little tricks. I won't play these games." Sophia stayed quiet, struck by his assumption that her mention of divorce was merely a plea for attention. Her silence tightened the air between them. "Don't become someone I resent, Sophia," he said with a frown, his voice low. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips as she turned toward the window, shutting him out completely. Sensing he had pushed too far, Lucas eased his tone. "I had your things moved back to our room. If you want to stay with me, just say so. There's no need for all this." Sophia was left speechless. ***** As the car came to a stop in the courtyard of Nightfall Estate, Sophia stepped out. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the cherry blossom grove in the garden. The sight sent a sharp pang through her chest. She forced her gaze away and continued into the villa. Inside, the decor had been completely redone. The new style, with its unmistakable resemblance to the Evans residence, clearly revealed who had overseen the renovations. She moved through rooms that felt entirely alien to her now, but she kept her thoughts to herself since this was no longer her home. Wendy looked surprised when she saw Sophia. "Mrs. Westwood, you've returned. Have you had your supper?" Sinking into the plush pink sofa, Sophia answered quietly, "Yes, thank you." Wendy offered a tight smile before retreating to her quarters to make a hurried phone call to Helen, reporting the unexpected arrival. Helen had never approved of Sophia, whom she saw as a plain nobody not good enough for her son. The infertility diagnosis hardened Helen's resolve to rush the divorce so Lucas could marry someone worthy of giving her grandchildren. The news of Sophia's sudden return after her dramatic departure kept Helen tossing and turning all night. Lucas had been certain Sophia would confront him about the complete makeover of their home. He stood ready to smooth things over, but she walked through the rooms without comment, her silence leaving him more unsettled than any argument would have. "If the decor isn't to your taste..." Lucas moved to sit beside her, his arms beginning to encircle her. Sophia reached for a throw pillow, tucking it between them as she shifted away from his embrace. The gentle rejection stung, though Lucas reassured himself that this was the same woman who had always adored him. "It's true. I prefer my original choices," she said calmly. "Can you have everything returned to how it was?" The warm, elegant furnishings had vanished, replaced by the overwhelming pinks that Emily favored—a transformation that had turned their home into something resembling a kitschy boutique hotel. Lucas shifted uncomfortably. "Let's not make a big deal out of it. You'll get used to the way things are around here." A faint, knowing smile curved on Sophia's lips as she met his gaze. That smile never failed to get under his skin. "Try to see it from her perspective, Sophia," he said, his voice tightening. "After everything she's been through these past three years, all Emily wants is to feel like she belongs." A wave of exhaustion washed over her. It was like talking to a brick wall. "I know," she said flatly. "You have your entire family backing you up," Lucas shot back, his patience clearly wearing thin. "But Emily? She has nobody else. Is it really so hard for you to be a little more compassionate?" "Funny," Sophia replied, her tone icy. "I was under the impression my adoptive parents were still very much alive." Besides, the Evans family had never once ceased to think about Emily throughout those three years. They made trip after trip to Felarica to celebrate Emily's birthdays and attend her parties. They even missed Sophia's wedding to Lucas because of her. A single social media post from Emily, complaining of her loneliness in Felarica, was all it took for them to drop everything and fly to her side. "Now that you've made it out of that dead-end town, you should be the last person to let Emily sink into it," he shot back. As Sophia looked at him, the last glimmer of hope in her eyes vanished. She knew well enough to stop mentioning divorce. To Lucas, it was just another act—proof that she was the same desperate woman the world thought her to be. If she couldn't get through to Lucas, she was going to find another path. Now, with her infertility diagnosis, she knew Helen would be far more impatient to act on this news. Sophia retreated to the master bedroom. Her possessions had claimed their space, with her clothes occupying half of the vast closet. A sense of normalcy had finally settled between her and Lucas, the kind that belongs to a husband and wife. But it was a fragile peace, already beginning to fray. Lucas was still in the living room when Emily returned. The air around her carried the sharp tang of liquor. Her face was deeply flushed, and she swayed slightly as she walked. He was at her side in an instant, his hand gently steadying her. "You've had far too much to drink," he murmured, his brow furrowed with worry. "This isn't good for you. I don't want to see you like this again." Emily turned into him, her arms finding their way around his neck. "I couldn't help it," she whispered, her voice thick with drink and emotion. "It's the only thing that dulls the ache." Sensing her legs might give way, he simply gathered her into his arms. "Wendy," he said to the housekeeper who had appeared, heading for the stairs. "Would you bring up some electrolyte water for Emily?" "Understood," Wendy replied. Playing the part of the drunken mess, Emily clung to Lucas and sobbed into his chest. "I've always regretted it," she cried. "Letting my pride push you away was the biggest mistake of my life." A long-buried tenderness tugged at Lucas's heart. "Let's try again, Lucas. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice," she whispered, tilting her face up to his. Just as their lips were about to meet, the master bedroom door swung open, and the sudden movement startled the couple in the hallway. Sophia stood in the doorway in her pajamas, watching them with a completely expressionless face. Lucas instantly snapped back to reality, and a rare look of panic flashed across his handsome face. "Sophie, Emily is drunk," he said quickly. "I'm just taking her back to her room." Still draped around him, Emily met Sophia's eyes over Lucas's shoulder. The tears were gone, replaced by a cool, triumphant smirk that held no trace of intoxication. Sophia's mouth curved into a humorless smile as she replied, "Yes, and you're drunk too." Without another word, she stepped back and slammed the door, the turn of the lock echoing decisively behind her. The idea of sleeping next to Lucas made her blood boil. She honestly didn't trust herself to lie beside him all night without her rage getting the better of her. Chapter 8 Divorce Settlement The next morning, as Sophia left her room, the guest room door across the hall opened at the exact same time. Lucas was stepping out, finishing with his tie. He glanced up and went completely still, finding Sophia already watching him from their bedroom doorway. Surprise flashed across his face, and he started with an explanation. "She was a mess last night," he said, his voice low. "I couldn't just leave her." Sophia's eyes dropped to the bright red smudge on his collar. Her eyes were filled with silent scorn as she thought about how filthy it was. She said with icy calm, "Relax, I know perfectly well that nothing would ever happen between you two, even when you don't have a stitch of clothing on." Her words cut off whatever excuse Lucas was about to offer. Anger darkened his features. "Think what you want," he snapped. "My feelings for her are purely brotherly." Sophia's eyes fell to the lipstick stain on his collar again. "So, how does it feel to be so close to your 'sister'?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Following her line of sight, Lucas saw the evidence, and a shadow of guilt crossed his face. "It was an accident," he insisted, his voice tight. "Don't make it sound so sordid." "So filthy," she murmured, shaking her head. As he drew a sharp breath to retaliate, she added with a cold smile, "I mean your shirt." He stared at her, his expression turning to stone. She merely offered a careless shrug and walked away, leaving him fuming in the hallway. Downstairs, Sophia was halfway through her breakfast when her phone vibrated on the table. A quick glance at the screen confirmed it was Helen calling. Just then, Wendy appeared with two additional breakfast plates. Sophia swiped to answer the call, a deliberate smile directed at Wendy. "You're calling so early, Mrs. Westwood." The pointed smile made Wendy's blood run cold, and at the mention of Mrs. Westwood, she was reminded of betraying Sophia by reporting to Helen last night. Stricken with guilt, she almost fumbled the tray. She dropped the plates onto the table and hastily retreated to the safety of the kitchen. A faint, cold smile touched Sophia's lips as Helen's venomous voice filled her ear. "Utterly devoid of manners," Helen sneered. "What else can you expect from someone with such a common background?" Sophia's eyes turned to ice. "Trace any lineage back three generations, Mrs. Westwood, and you'll find humble roots. It's distasteful to scorn your own origins." Helen found herself at a loss for words. Though Lucas's parents both had city roots, his grandparents' generation had all struggled in a backwater. Helen's parents had even lived in a cowshed. So in that regard, Helen was no better than Sophia. "That sharp tongue of yours is exactly why people can't stand you," Helen shot back. Sophia rolled her eyes in contempt. Biting back her anger, Helen forced a calmer tone. "We need to meet. There's a document for you to sign." "What kind of document?" "It'll be clear when you get here." Letting the matter drop, Sophia hung up. As she did, she saw Lucas descending the staircase. He had showered and changed, his hair perfectly styled like a model from the pages of a magazine. She had to admit, he was pleasing to look at. 'With those looks, he certainly has the assets for a career as a gigolo,' Sophia thought wryly. A smug feeling warmed Lucas as her eyes stayed on him. He drew out the chair next to hers and sat down. "Paliston Fashion Week is just around the corner," he offered. "It'll be a good chance for us to get away." In three years of marriage, it was the first time he had ever proposed such a thing. Sophia acknowledged him with a quiet hum, but she felt no spark of happiness or expectation. She saw the offer for what it was—a peace offering, born of the guilt he carried after his betrayal. Her ride showed up shortly after breakfast. Picking up her bag, Sophia walked out the door.
Chapter 1 His First Love Returned Sophia Evans could feel her world beginning to crack the moment she heard the news—the woman her husband, Lucas Westwood, had never gotten over was back. When Sophia arrived at the hotel's VIP suite with a gift, she found Lucas's first love—Emily Evans—being humiliated by his childhood friends. "Lick the wine off my shoe, Emily. I'll give you thirty thousand dollars," one of them said. Emily was forced to kneel on the floor, tears in her defiant eyes as she stared shamefully at Lucas. Lucas watched with a dark expression, saying nothing as he held his temper in check. Sophia halted mid-step, struck by the painful familiarity of the scene. Three years ago, when she had first been welcomed into the Evans family, these same privileged young men had tormented her in exactly the same way to gain Emily's favor. But back then, Lucas hadn't worn this expression of utter heartbreak. "There you are," Lucas said as soon as he spotted Sophia, his arm sliding around her waist in a show of intimacy. Only Sophia could feel the desperate pressure of his grip—a silent testament to the pain he was trying to conceal. Lucas's childhood friends had reserved the entire venue for his birthday celebration. But Sophia had never expected Emily to show up here. Everyone knew Lucas had married Sophia just to spite Emily. Three years ago, Emily's identity as a fake heiress was exposed. She broke up with Lucas then and there and left the Evans family behind. Lucas pursued her to the airport, boarded her departing flight, and forced the plane that had already taken off to turn back. Right there on that plane, he proposed to Emily. To his complete surprise, Emily refused without hesitation, declaring that the arranged marriage should be honored by the Evans family's true heiress. Humiliated and acting out of spite, Lucas married Sophia instead. For three years, Sophia had lived as Emily's stand-in. Everyone whispered that if Emily ever returned, Lucas would discard Sophia without a second thought. Sophia had once believed that too, but something had shifted in these past six months—Lucas seemed to be genuinely falling for her. He made grand declarations of love in the press, showered her with luxury homes and cars, and even replaced the cherry tree he'd planted for Emily with a garden full of red roses. In their most tender moments, he'd whisper against her ear, "Let's have a baby, Sophie. I hope they have your smile." Sophia's hand drifted absently to her stomach as she clutched the gift box a little tighter. Inside was a positive pregnancy test—meant to be Lucas's birthday surprise. But now, the timing of the gift felt all wrong. "You still think you're the Evans family princess, Emily? Lucas only has eyes for Sophia now. Why not be with me? A pretty thing like you deserves to be treated right," one of Lucas's friends, Ryan Shaw, sneered. He dragged Emily onto his lap, his hands already roaming over her. "Get your hands off me!" Emily cried, fighting against Ryan's grip as humiliation burned through her. Her resistance only fueled Ryan's excitement. In one swift motion, he shoved her down onto the couch, his powerful body trapping hers. Horrified that Ryan would assault Emily right in front of Lucas, Sophia jumped up to stop him, only to be shoved aside as Lucas already surged into action. As she stumbled, her hands instinctively reached for Lucas's arm, but he brutally shook her off. She hit the floor hard, a jolt of sharp pain shooting from her tailbone straight to her womb. Through the pain-induced haze, she saw Lucas grab Ryan by the collar, drag him off Emily, and pummel his face with brutal, unforgiving fists. "You've overstepped, Ryan. Emily is mine. Even if I discard her, she'll never be yours to touch," Lucas snapped. His words hung in the air, and the entire room fell silent as if frozen in time. Sophia stared at Lucas in disbelief, wondering where she stood in his life now that he had openly claimed Emily as his woman. All eyes in the room were drawn to the scene. Some watched with malicious delight, while others were simply captivated by the unfolding drama. Doubled over in pain, Sophia felt a warm wetness spreading beneath her. Her face paled as a cold dread gripped her heart. "Honey, my stomach hurts," she turned to Lucas instinctively. "Please, take me to the hospital." Without even glancing her way, Lucas removed his jacket and gently placed it around Emily's shoulders. Nestling into his embrace, Emily whispered, her voice trembling, "Lucas, I'm scared. Please take me away from here." "Don't worry," he murmured, holding her close. "I won't let anyone hurt you." Sweeping Emily into his arms, Lucas carried her out of the room, completely ignoring Sophia's pain-racked form shuddering on the floor. Perched comfortably on his shoulder, Emily gazed down at Sophia's crumpled form on the floor, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. The spectators murmured among themselves, still savoring the drama they'd just witnessed. "Emily's definitely the one for Lucas. He hasn't taken his eyes off her all night." "The way Lucas looks at her... I thought it was hatred, but it's clearly something else entirely." "Who could resist someone like her? I certainly wouldn't be able to stay angry." "Poor Sophia. She was just a side character in their love story." At the mention of Sophia's name, the crowd remembered her presence simultaneously, their attention shifting to where she sat. Sophia was in terrible pain and covered in a cold sweat until someone finally noticed her condition and quickly helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?" the guy asked. She gripped his arm tightly as the room spun around her. "Please take me to the hospital. My stomach hurts terribly," she pleaded. Then everything went dark as she fainted. Through the haze of semi-consciousness, distant screams about blood echoed in her ears. When Sophia regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital room. The sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the air as she lay alone in the quiet ward. A nurse tending to her bandages noticed her awakening. "You're awake," she said softly. Sophia's voice came out weak and fearful. "My baby... Is my baby alright?" "Your baby is fine," the nurse reassured her. "But you'll need to take special care. These first few months are particularly delicate in your condition." Relief washed over Sophia as grateful tears fell. "Thank you," she whispered, overwhelmed that her child was safe. Through the emotional turmoil, Sophia's first thought was to share the news with Lucas immediately. Wiping her tears, she reached for her phone and dialed his number. The phone rang several times before Lucas finally picked up. His voice was edged with impatience as he answered, "Not coming home tonight. Don't wait—" "Lucas, my hair's caught in this zipper," Emily's voice interrupted, floating through the line. "Could you give me a hand?" Sophia's knuckles went white around her phone. "Be right there," he said. The call ended before Sophia could form a response. Overnight, things between her and Lucas had reverted to how they were six months ago. Back then, he'd been all cold shoulders and sharp tones. Even in their most intimate moments, he treated her like just another need to be met. To him, she might as well have been a stranger—or worse, just a convenient body. So when he finally let his guard down, she'd been so grateful for the warmth that she fell harder than she ever meant to. She thought her years of longing had finally paid off. But reality slapped her senseless when Lucas chose Emily's safety over their own child's life. After being discharged from the hospital, Sophia caught a taxi home. Midway through the ride, her phone buzzed with a Twitter alert. It was a tweet from Emily: [You told me you'd hold my hand and never let go—not for the rest of our lives.] The attached photo showed Emily dressed like a princess, complete with a tiny crown, her hand locked tightly with a larger, elegant hand. Around the wrist was a bracelet made of prayer beads—the very one Sophia had prayed for in a church last year, when Lucas was burning up with fever. That day, he squeezed her hand and whispered a promise that he would never leave her side. Chapter 2 Ask Him For A Divorce The taxi stopped outside the Nightfall Estate, where Sophia paid the fare and got out of the vehicle. She was just heading inside when a truck carrying young cherry trees rumbled up the drive and stopped near the garden. Workers carefully unloaded the cherry trees and settled them into the prepared holes. Where a vibrant sea of red roses had bloomed just yesterday, now only upturned earth remained, with the plants piled carelessly to the side. A dull ache spread through Sophia's chest as she gazed at the rose petals strewn like crimson tears across the soil. The familiar purr of a luxury car engine approached from behind. Turning around, Sophia saw Lucas step out of the car. He stood tall and straight, radiating a natural air of calm elegance. "Honey..." Sophia began, but the words died on her lips as he leaned back into the car. With gentle care, he helped a woman step out—it was Emily, who looked radiant in an exquisite designer ensemble that made her complexion glow. Only when Emily was steady did Lucas's gaze finally meet Sophia's, those usually warm eyes now regarding her with detached indifference. "Did you need something?" he asked, his tone flat. The cold unfamiliarity in his look struck Sophia's heart like a physical blow. "Why are you tearing out the roses when they were growing so well?" she asked, desperate for his explanation. Those roses had been his special way of confessing his feelings to her. Lucas barely glanced at the destroyed garden. "Emily's not feeling well. She'll be staying with us for a bit." "What does that have to do with the roses?" she pressed. "She's allergic to the pollen," he said curtly, already turning to guide Emily inside. Sophia stood rooted to the spot, her heart breaking. Emily's delicate voice carried through the air. "Lucas, Sophia seems upset. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have complained about the roses." "She doesn't matter to me," Lucas reassured her. "But I worry she'll resent me. Really, I can manage with allergy medication," Emily offered, her voice dripping with false concern. "Medication always has side effects. Don't suggest things that worry me," he replied. Sophia stood motionless as she watched their figures grow smaller in the distance. A silent tear traced its way down her cheek while overwhelming sorrow washed over her. 'I don't matter to him... Yeah, right,' Sophia murmured with bitter irony, the truth of the words settling like a weight in her heart. He hadn't even asked about her absence last night, and now he had ordered her favorite roses to be torn out. The message was clear—she meant less to him than the slightest thought of Emily. For three years, she had devoted herself to him, offering unwavering love and comfort through difficult times. She had believed her constant warmth could thaw even the coldest heart, but Emily's reappearance had erased everything in an instant. She wondered what their intimacy these past six months had truly meant, and what role she had actually played in his life. A sudden twinge in her lower abdomen made her catch her breath. Pale and unsteady, she turned toward the villa. As Sophia stepped into the living room, she saw Emily nestled against Lucas on the sofa, watching with affectionate amusement as he peeled an orange for her. Lucas gently picked away every bit of white pith from the orange segments before arranging them on a plate for Emily. "For you," he said with a soft smile. "Enjoy, my little foodie." As Emily took the plate, she noticed Sophia entering the room. A triumphant smile graced her lips as she called out, "Sophia, would you like some? Lucas peeled these himself. Something you've never experienced, I'm sure." Sophia's gaze fell upon the perfectly prepared orange segments, and she felt a sudden sting behind her eyes. The painful truth was that in all their time together, Lucas had never once peeled an orange for her. She had always been the one serving him. The realization struck her with perfect clarity—Lucas knew well how to be thoughtful, but he simply reserved his kindness for Emily. Sophia felt her heart breaking into pieces as she finally understood how painful comparison could be. "She's perfectly capable of peeling her own fruit," Lucas said dismissively, barely glancing at Sophia. Then he noticed her pale complexion and added, "Are you alright? You look terribly pale." Sophia's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she debated telling Lucas her secret pregnancy. A fragile hope whispered within her—that this truth might finally soften his heart toward her. "I..." Her voice faltered, the words dying on her lips. "If you're ill, see a doctor. This pathetic act is getting tiresome," Lucas said, impatience flashing across his handsome features. He was annoyed by her wounded expression, which seemed to suggest she was the victim of some terrible injustice. Sophia swallowed her unspoken words, her gaze lingering on the man who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. "I'm fine," she murmured. "I'll just go to my room." As she turned toward the staircase, Lucas felt a surge of irritation. 'I must've been too lenient with her, and now she dared to show me attitude,' he thought, fuming. Sophia had only climbed a few steps when the housekeeper, Wendy, appeared descending the stairs with servants carrying boxes. The items looked familiar, but it was the sight of her stuffed doll in Wendy's arms that made Sophia realize everything they carried was hers. In a swift motion, she stepped forward and snatched the doll. Her voice turned icy as she asked, "Wendy, care to explain this?" "Mr. Westwood's orders," Wendy said quietly. "You're to move to the storage room downstairs." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, leaving her mind reeling. She turned to Lucas, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious." They'd already maintained separate bedrooms, but she never imagined that she'd be banished to a storage room instead of even being offered the guest suite after Emily's return. For a fleeting moment under her gaze, Lucas felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly hardened into resolve. "Emily needs the sunroom for her health," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your room gets the best light. It's better for her recovery." The absurdity of it all drew a bitter laugh from Sophia's lips. She thought his previous cruelty—shoving her while pregnant and replacing her roses with Emily's cherry trees—had been the worst it could get. But this new humiliation surpassed even that. All Lucas had done since Emily's return yesterday was talk about her. In just one day, she had turned Sophia's whole life upside down. Sophia expected to feel rage, but instead found only a hollow emptiness settling in her chest. 'Look at him, Sophia,' Sophia thought bitterly. 'This is the man you gave your heart and soul to. Was any of it worth it?' "If you're so worried about her comfort, why not just move her into your room? The master suite gets the best light anyway," Sophia shot back. Lucas responded sharply, "Sophia, you need to watch your tone." Emily's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I know you don't want me here, Sophia. I'll go. Please don't fight with Lucas over me." Sophia saw right through Emily's act. A humorless laugh escaped her as she spat, "You're not going anywhere. I am." Tightening her grip on the stuffed doll, she turned and headed for the door. "Don't you dare, Sophia." Lucas rose to his feet, his voice cutting through the room. "Walk out that door now, and don't expect to ever come back." Sophia's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "I'll make sure you receive the divorce papers," she said, her voice cold and steady. "See that you sign them." "You're asking me for a divorce?" Lucas's voice was low, thick with barely restrained fury. He added, his tone edged with contempt, "Have you forgotten who gave you this life, Sophia? The luxury, the status—all of it came from me. Without my name, you're just that wide-eyed girl fresh off that forgotten little town. You don't get to leave." Chapter 3 The Replaced Medical Result Sophia didn't need to look back to know the condescending smirk that was surely on Lucas's face. She knew he had always despised her. His proposal three years ago had been motivated only by a desire to fulfill the marriage agreement between their families and to exact revenge on Emily. She had been naive enough to believe his empty promises, offering him her genuine love when he saw her as nothing more than a pawn. To him, she would always be a leech, clinging to his wealth and name for survival. But now, she had reached her limit, and she no longer wanted him in her life. Sophia walked out without a backward glance. As she stepped through the gateway, the sound of shattering porcelain echoed behind her, but she no longer cared. Lucas stood amid the shattered remains, fingers pressed to his temples. His face was a mask of simmering anger. He dismissed the mention of divorce as just another one of her calculated moves, a transparent attempt to get his attention by pulling away. Emily watched him hesitantly. "Maybe I shouldn't be staying here, Lucas. Sophia seemed really upset." "It's nothing," Lucas replied evenly. Seeing how the mention of divorce had affected him, she suggested softly, "You could go after her. Women usually respond well to a little reassurance." "I don't have time for that," Lucas said, turning toward the staircase. With a business trip looming, his mind was elsewhere. 'Let her make a scene if she wants to,' he thought. 'She'll cool off and come crawling back. She always does.' ***** Sophia's home was a beautiful 3,200-square-foot apartment with an open-concept layout and sleek modern decor—all paid for with her own earnings. In her study, she printed the divorce papers and a letter resigning from her position. With a steady hand, she signed both, and then summoned a courier to deliver them directly to the Westwood Group. When she married Lucas three years ago, Sophia had joined his company, hoping to build a genuine connection with him. She started at the very bottom as an assistant and gradually earned her way up to department manager. She had wanted nothing more than to be close to him—in their home and at work. But in the end, her efforts were met with cold indifference. Gazing downward, Sophia softly cradled her stomach. "It's just us now, little one," she whispered. The courier arrived at Westwood headquarters while Lucas was away. His chief executive assistant, Kevin Chapman, received the delivery and signed. The moment Kevin saw the contents, he reached for the phone, dialing Lucas's number in haste. "Mr. Westwood, your wife has sent divorce documents." "Burn it all." On the other side of the ocean, Lucas loosened his tie as an unexpected wave of irritation came over him. "But Mrs. Westwood has even submitted her resignation letter..." Kevin replied, his tone hesitant. "She can't survive without this family." The blue flame from Lucas's lighter highlighted the grim set of his features. "Let her be. She'll come crawling back once reality sets in." Meanwhile, Sophia remained completely unaware of his words. Her morning had begun with a call from her mother-in-law, Helen Westwood. "Where are you? Return at once," Helen commanded in her typically imperious manner, leaving no room for discussion. Complying, Sophia drove back to the estate. No sooner had she stepped inside than a velvet box came hurling toward her head, which she narrowly avoided by stepping aside. Helen's shrill voice pierced the air. "How dare you avoid that? You've got some nerve." Sophia's gaze fell upon the velvet box at her feet, and suddenly, she understood why it seemed familiar. She remembered purchasing that exact box to store her pregnancy test results. On Lucas's birthday, she had intended to present it to him as a gift, but he had accidentally pushed her before she could give it to him, resulting in her hospitalization. Her heart leaped as she turned to face Helen's livid expression. 'Could she know about the pregnancy? But something about her reaction seems strange,' she wondered. For three years, Helen had made no secret of her disapproval of Sophia, someone raised in a small town. Yet every time Sophia visited the Westwood residence with Lucas, Helen would consistently nag Sophia about starting a family soon. If Helen knew Sophia was pregnant, she was supposed to be absolutely delighted instead of reacting like this. Helen clutched a medical report, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared down Sophia. "For three years, I've watched your marriage to Lucas, wondering why you never conceived. Now I understand—he married a barren woman. "If you hadn't left this at the hotel and Lucas's friend hadn't been kind enough to deliver it, I'd still be in the dark about your condition." Heart pounding with shock, Sophia ignored Helen's murderous gaze and snatched the document from her hand. The clinical report lay cold and pale in the morning light. There was her name, clearly printed, alongside the devastating diagnosis: "permanent infertility." 'Permanent infertility? But that's impossible. I'm pregnant. Someone must have switched my test results. But who would do such a thing?' Sophia wondered. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "This isn't my..." Emily, who had remained silent until now, suddenly interrupted, "Sophia, the Westwood lineage has been passed down through a single heir for ten generations. Are you trying to ensure Lucas dies without an heir? To extinguish the family line completely?" "How utterly heartless!" Helen exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Sophia as her anger reached its peak. "We've welcomed you with open arms since you married into this family. Yet you've been hiding this from us? To think you'd let our family line die out—it's truly despicable!" she added. Sophia didn't even attempt to explain herself. If they wanted to believe she was barren, so be it—it would only simplify the divorce proceedings. "I only received the results two days ago. I hadn't found the right moment to share the news," Sophia replied, her voice calm. "This wasn't about finding the right moment. You did this intentionally," Helen retorted, her face contorted with rage. "And you planned to give this to Lucas as a gift? What kind of twisted mind would conceive such a thing?" Sophia maintained her silence. Helen took a measured breath, forcing her anger down. "If you can't conceive naturally, I won't hold it against you. I've spoken with Emily, and she's agreed to donate her eggs so you and Lucas can pursue in vitro fertilization." Sophia stared in disbelief at the unexpected turn. "Could you repeat that?" She believed she had misheard because the suggestion was both preposterous and deeply offensive. "If you can't conceive, that's your problem. Emily is being extraordinarily generous by offering her eggs. The least you could do is show some appreciation instead of this ingratitude," Helen sneered. A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. "Perhaps you'd like to accept this generous offer yourself?" "How dare you speak to me like that!" Helen's eyes flashed with fury. "Sophia, you shouldn't speak to Mrs. Westwood that way. She was suggesting that for your sake," Emily said in a honeyed tone, reaching for the glass. As she moved, she made certain to display the prayer beads circling her delicate wrist. Sophia's breath caught—she would recognize the bracelet anywhere. That was the very ones she had sacrificed so much to obtain while praying for Lucas's recovery. It felt like a personal insult, seeing the bracelet that symbolized her love for Lucas now clasped around Emily's wrist. "For my sake?" Sophia repeated, the words tasting bitter as she caught the sly glint of satisfaction in Emily's eyes. It sent a sharp ache through her. She knew this game all too well. Emily had a gift for twisting people's vulnerabilities to her advantage, a lesson Sophia had learned the hard way three years ago. "I'm infertile. What possible use could I have for your eggs?" Sophia asked, her voice cold. "Do you really think I need a constant reminder of what I can't have?" Emily's smile vanished. For Helen's benefit, she bit her lip, her eyes instantly welling with feigned hurt. "Mrs. Westwood," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "I was only trying to help Sophia." Helen immediately comforted Emily by patting her hand. She then shot Sophia a disapproving look. "How can you be so selfish, Sophia? Are you really determined to let the Westwood family line die out?" Sophia gestured dismissively toward Emily. "Well, if she's so fertile, let her handle the baby-making." The thought of Emily getting to be a mother the easy way turned Sophia's stomach. Chapter 4 Take Back Her Things The color drained from both Helen's and Emily's faces. Helen stepped forward, jabbing a finger toward Sophia. "You think you're better than us? Then you give the Westwood family an heir. Don't blame anyone else for your own useless womb." Sophia bit back the sharp retort on her tongue. She was done with this family, done with Lucas. Arguing now would only prolong the inevitable. "Mrs. Westwood," she began, "I've decided—" Lucas's familiar, deep voice cut through the tension from the doorway. "Decided what?" Sophia turned to see Lucas standing there, his clothes rumpled from travel. His assistant, Kevin, hovered behind him with a suitcase in hand. The air in the room was thick with tension, so Kevin knew better than to stay. He simply left the suitcase by the door and made a quick exit. Loosening his tie, Lucas turned to Helen. "Mom, what brings you here?" "If I hadn't come, you'd have let our family name die out," Helen shot back. She then snatched the medical report from Sophia and flung it at Lucas's chest. "See for yourself," she said coldly, and with that, she swept out of the room. Lucas looked down at the document in his hands, and the words "permanent infertility" caused a faint twitch in his brow. His eyes, when they finally lifted to meet Sophia's, were devoid of warmth. "You'll go back to the hospital tomorrow for a full work-up. I will not have a wife who can't give me an heir." A hollow ache spread through Sophia's chest. Any foolish hope she'd been clinging to finally faded. Lucas had never defended her in three years of his mother's constant belittlement. And now, the ease with which he believed this lie revealed the chilling truth of his character. "I have the divorce papers right here," Sophia said, pulling the documents from her bag. She extended them toward him, her voice steady. "Just sign them, and you'll never have to see me again." Lucas didn't even look at the papers. In one swift motion, his hand closed around her throat, pulling her close. He leaned in until his face was mere inches from hers, and she could feel his warm breath and smell the familiar scent of his cologne. There was a time when this closeness would have made her heart flutter. Now, it only made her skin crawl. It was amazing how easy it was to walk away when all the love had drained away. "Sophia, have I been too soft with you?" Lucas's voice was thick with contempt. "Where exactly do you think you'll go without my protection?" She held his gaze without flinching. "That's really none of your concern anymore." "Still got that sharp tongue," he sneered. He released her with a dismissive shove, as if her defiance meant nothing. "Go make me dinner. I'm hungry." A wave of pain shot through Sophia's lower abdomen as she sank into the sofa, her skin turning clammy with an instant, cold sweat. Across the room, Emily slid her arm through Lucas's with practiced ease. "Don't let Sophia bother you," she murmured. "Her little scene was just a cry for your attention." Lucas pulled his tie free, his stern expression melting away as he focused on Emily. "How are you holding up?" he asked, his tone gentler. "I'm fine," she sighed, putting on a pitiful face. "It's just that the medicine is so awfully bitter." "It's bitter because it's strong. You need to keep taking it," he reminded her. "I picked up those candies you like. They're in my suitcase. Go get them yourself." "I know you always look out for me," Emily said, stretching up to press a light kiss to Lucas's cheek. "Consider that your reward." A look of quiet satisfaction crossed his features at the gesture. "I'm going up to shower," he said. "Go ahead," Emily said sweetly, fluttering a wave at him. She waited until Lucas's footsteps faded up the staircase before turning to the suitcase. They carried on as if Sophia weren't standing right there in the same room. Humming cheerfully, Emily unzipped the luggage. Alongside Lucas's neatly folded clothes sat a jar of shimmering candies and an elegant red velvet box that clearly held something valuable. Her eyes skipped over the candy, going straight to the velvet box. When she lifted the lid, a pink diamond necklace lay gleaming, its facets scattering rainbows in the light. "Oh, it's exquisite. I love it," she whispered, her eyes widening. "So the candy was just a decoy. This necklace is what he really wanted me to find." Draping the necklace against her collarbone, Emily turned to face Sophia, who had risen from the sofa. "Well, Sophia? Don't you think it suits me perfectly?" The pink diamond necklace around Emily's neck struck Sophia as oddly familiar. It came to her a moment later—she had coveted it last month while flipping through a magazine. Lucas had seen her fascination and promised to get it for her. The catch was its exclusivity—a single piece, sourced from Melaria, the country where Lucas had been attending to business. "That was for me," Sophia said, her voice calm. The man was disposable, but her possessions were not. She would reclaim what was rightfully hers. With a swift motion, Emily clasped the necklace. "Finders keepers," she said with a mocking grin. Sophia approached for a closer look. Though the necklace was more exquisite than its photograph, any desire for it had vanished. A wary look crossed Emily's face. "What is this about?" "To take what belongs to me, of course," Sophia said, stepping close and extending her hand. "It's time you returned it." Emily's hands instinctively flew to the diamond necklace at her throat. "Lucas will never stand for this, Sophia. You know what I mean to him." Sophia almost laughed. She knew well that Emily held a special place in Lucas's heart. But that was irrelevant. She was only claiming what was hers. "Give the bracelet back to me," Sophia said coldly. It was a token earned through true devotion, and she wouldn't let its significance be tarnished. Realizing Sophia only wanted the simple bracelet, Emily smiled condescendingly. 'Some shortsighted people have no taste,' she thought. Emily twisted the bracelet around her wrist. "I heard you went to Grace Abbey to beg for this good-luck charm," she said. "You are so hung up on him, aren't you?" The hypocrisy of her words was almost laughable. "Give it back," Sophia said, her voice like ice. Emily's eyes flickered to a point behind Sophia, and a sly smile touched her lips. She lowered her voice. "If you want it so badly, why don't you come and take it?" Sophia didn't stop to think. She grabbed Emily's wrist and tugged the bracelet free. The moment it was off, Emily's demeanor shifted completely. "Sophia, what are you doing?" she cried out, her voice suddenly loud and panicked. "Lucas gave this to me." Before Sophia could even turn around, a powerful hand seized her by the collar and hauled her backwards. The fabric dug sharply into her throat, stealing her breath. Stumbling to regain her footing, Sophia looked up to see Lucas. He was already cradling Emily. "Emily, are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern. Emily buried her face in his chest. "I'm fine," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Please, don't be angry with Sophia. She didn't mean it." Lucas's jaw tightened, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. He took a deep breath and fixed Sophia with an icy stare. "Apologize to Emily." Chapter 5 She Wants A Clean Break A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. She had fooled herself into thinking she was numb to Lucas's coldness. But his command still sent a fresh, sharp pain through her chest. She knew there was no point arguing with a man who had already chosen the other woman's side. "I won't apologize," Sophia said, her fist closing tightly around the bracelet. "What for?" Emily looked up at Lucas with well-practiced vulnerability. "I'm causing trouble here, Lucas. I should go." Lucas caught her wrist before she could take a second step. "You're staying right here." His attention snapped back to Sophia, his expression darkening. "Now, Sophia, apologize to Emily." The room blurred as tears filled Sophia's eyes, twisting his familiar face into a stranger's. She lifted the simple bracelet between them. "This is my stuff in the first place. Since when is taking back what was stolen a crime?" "Your stuff? Since when do you have anything of your own?" Lucas's lips curled in a sneer. "I've paid for every stitch of clothing on your back." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, forcing a bitter laugh from her lips. He knew perfectly well she earned her own living, yet he took every opportunity to demean her. "This bracelet came from Grace Abbey," she countered, her voice trembling. "You didn't pay a cent for it." Lucas's eyes dropped to the simple beads in her palm. "You think I care about some cheap bracelet?" he scoffed. Hot tears streamed down Sophia's face without warning. Wiping them away, Sophia made a silent vow—this would be the last time he reduced her to this. "Fine!" With one sharp motion, she snapped the bracelet's cord, sending beads skittering across the floor. Lucas watched the scattered beads come to rest, his hand curling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. He knew how much that bracelet meant to her, but the moment Emily wanted it, he didn't hesitate to take it off and hand it over. Lucas's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "Sophia!" "I want a divorce," Sophia said, her voice eerily calm. As she opened her hand, the last bead from the bracelet clattered onto the floor between them. "Let's just end this." The sound was small, but in the tense silence, it was deafening, echoing in Lucas's mind. He let out a short laugh, his gaze locked on her. "You think a threat will work? You should know better than that by now." 'This has to be a ploy,' he thought to himself. 'She loves me too much to go through with it. She has accepted her role as Emily's replacement from the beginning and has never once tried to leave. 'She would never have the strength to walk away from me.' "Go make us something to eat, and we can forget this ever happened." Lucas was certain he had thrown Sophia a lifeline. He waited, fully expecting her to be overcome with relief and scurry off to the kitchen. He'd been away on business, and days of unfamiliar rich food had left his stomach unsettled. What he craved was Sophia's cooking—simple, hearty food that tasted like home. It was a flavor he couldn't find anywhere else. "You can go eat your ass," Sophia shot back. She picked up her bag, her lips twisting into a scornful smile, and walked out without a backward glance. That smile grated on Lucas's nerves more than the insult itself. In his frustration, his eyes fell on the string of prayer beads lying scattered on the floor, and he gave them an impatient kick. 'So that's her game. She wants to challenge me? I'd like to see just how long her resolve will hold,' he thought, fuming. ***** Sophia sped away from Nightfall Estate, her phone buzzing relentlessly on the passenger seat. Lucas's name flashed across the screen again and again until she finally grabbed it and blocked his number for good. When she looked up at the road, she blinked, her vision blurring for a moment. She braced for the familiar sting of tears, but when her fingers touched her skin, it was dry. It was only then that she noticed the soft patter against the windshield. A fine drizzle had begun to fall, and a quiet melancholy settled over her, as gray as the sky. Up ahead, the flickering hazard lights of a sleek black car broke the rhythm of the rain. A man in a soaked suit, looking to be in his forties, stood beside it, waving frantically at passing traffic. Almost without conscious thought, Sophia found herself flipping on her turn signal and pulling over. She rolled down her window as the man rushed over. "Everything okay?" she asked. "It's my boss," the man said, his voice tight with panic. "He's having a heart attack. The ambulance is stuck in a multi-car accident. Please, can you take us to the hospital?" Sophia hesitated. Letting two strange men into her car, especially in this weather, felt dangerous. Every cautionary tale she'd ever heard flashed through her mind. Seeing her hesitation, the man added urgently, "I promise we're not dangerous. My boss is—" But Sophia was already moving, cutting the engine and stepping out into the downpour. "Just get him to my car, now," she called out as she rushed toward their vehicle. As she got closer, she recognized the distinctive emblem of the black Maybach. Working together, they carefully transferred the elderly man from the luxury sedan into Sophia's more modest car. The old man's lips were tinged with blue, and each ragged breath seemed like a struggle, clear signs of his critical condition. Sliding behind the wheel, Sophia started the car and pulled back onto the road, pushing through the veils of rain. In the backseat, the middle-aged man was a whirlwind of activity on his phone, coordinating with a hospital and alerting the family. Beyond the windows, the storm seemed to intensify, as if trying to match the urgency inside the car. After ensuring everything was in place, the man turned to Sophia with heartfelt appreciation. "You're the only one who stopped in this downpour. We can't thank you enough." A warm smile touched Sophia's lips. "Some things are just meant to be." ***** Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital entrance where medical staff stood ready. The team swiftly transferred the elderly man to a stretcher and hurried him inside for emergency care. Just as Sophia was about to drive away, she spotted a lone leather shoe in the backseat—the one the elderly man had been wearing. After a moment's hesitation, she parked properly and carried the shoe to the reception desk, logging it as a lost item. Sophia was just turning to leave when a group emerged from the hospital's main entrance. At the front of the group was a man whose height and posture commanded attention. He turned his sharp gaze on her, and the intensity in his eyes was so commanding that it felt like a physical pressure. 'That frown means trouble,' Sophia thought. She averted her gaze and continued walking, brushing past the group without a second look. It wasn't until she was back in the driver's seat that she felt the chill of her wet clothes clinging to her skin. As she dried her hair with a towel from the backseat, a notification popped up on her phone while she was opening the navigation app. It was a post from Emily: [Nothing says 'forever' like a soft-boiled egg made with love! My ultimate comfort food.] The post featured two photos—one showed a soft-boiled egg with a ketchup heart, and the other captured a tall man's back as he stood at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Sophia couldn't help but compare. When she was with Lucas, he had acted like even pouring her a glass of water was a significant concession. Cooking a meal was utterly out of the question. The fact that he was now cooking for Emily spoke volumes about where his true affections lay. She closed the page and entered her apartment address into the navigation system before driving out of the parking lot. As she watched the heavy rain outside, a single decisive thought crystallized in her mind—this marriage was over. Chapter 6 Return The Trash To The Dumpster That evening, a text came through from Annabelle Quinn, Sophia's best friend since college, insisting they go out to a lounge. The old Sophia would have declined immediately, conditioned to obey Lucas's rule about her not going out. But now that Sophia was divorcing him, his opinions held no weight. ***** The moment Sophia stepped out of the car, she saw Annabelle waiting by the entrance. "Hope you haven't been waiting long," she said as she approached. "Just got here," Annabelle grinned, looping her arm through Sophia's. "So, what's the special occasion? Did you finally get a night off from your sweetheart?" Sophia struggled to find the words, but she couldn't keep it from her best friend. "I'm getting a divorce," she finally said. "Let me guess," Annabelle said, not one to mince words in front of her best friend. "This is about Emily being back, isn't it?" "It's not just that," Sophia admitted, her voice quiet. It just took seeing the difference for herself to truly see how little her three years of effort had meant. Annabelle threw a supportive arm around Sophia's shoulders. "You should have woken up to this a long time ago." For three years, she had watched Sophia lose herself in a hollow relationship, and it killed Annabelle to see her friend throw everything away for a man who never appreciated her. "Better late than never," Sophia offered with a weak smile. "Damn right it is," Annabelle declared. "Tonight, I'm getting us the best male models in town. You deserve some real attention." They ascended into the pulsating heart of the club, pushing through the glittering crowd toward the exclusive booth Annabelle had booked. As they moved past the entrance to a private booth, a burst of laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway. Amid the noise, Sophia's own name caught her sharp ear. "Got to hand it to Lucas. The minute Emily was back, he moved her right in. Word is, he showed Sophia the door." "Well, she had it coming. Play the simp, and you lose it all. Seriously though, that night in the booth with all the blood? I truly thought a tragedy had occurred, but it was probably just her period." "You're thinking about that? Man, have you had a thing for Sophia all along?" "Who'd pine after some nobody from a backwater? Only Lucas, with his unique preferences, would stick around for three years." "Guess the novelty wore off. Time for a change." Standing in the hallway, Sophia felt a cold stillness settle behind her eyes. The voices clicked into place—Lucas's oldest friends. They had been there that night, spectators to her most shameful moment. Annabelle's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind." But as she moved toward the door, Sophia stopped her with a gentle hand. "This is my battle to fight," Sophia said firmly. With that, Sophia pushed the door open and swept into the room. She settled gracefully onto the sofa, joining their conversation with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you're talking about unique preferences, I top him," she began, her voice deceptively light, "I recycled what Emily threw away. But it looks like I did everyone a favor by returning the trash to the dumpster where it belongs." A stunned silence fell over the room. Every face on the circular sofa stared at her in horrified fascination. Unbeknownst to Sophia, two figures had entered the room behind her during her speech. The guests' eyes darted nervously between Sophia and the newcomers, the air thickening with tension. There stood Lucas and Emily, their expressions dark as storm clouds. Their presence made Sophia turn. Her eyes instantly met the cold, dark stare of Lucas. But she didn't back down. A defiant shrug lifted her shoulders. "Look what the cat dragged in. My trash husband." Emily's eyes instantly glistened with tears. "Sophia, ignore them," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "It's all lies. Lucas and I are just friends." As if to prove her point, she clutched Lucas's arm. "Tell her, Lucas. Make her understand there's nothing going on between us." Sophia's gaze dropped to the hand clinging to Lucas's arm, and a faint, derisive smile touched her mouth. 'Just friends? Did she really expect anyone to believe that?' she thought bitterly. Lucas detached himself from Emily's grip and closed the distance between him and Sophia. The motion broke the tension, stirring his friends into action. "Hey, Lucas, take it easy," one of them said, stepping forward. "She's just reacting to our stupid jokes." "Come on, Sophia, just say you're sorry to Lucas," another one urged. "You know he'll forgive you." The suggestion made Sophia want to laugh bitterly. 'Is this really how they see me? As some lovesick fool who'd come crawling back at the first sign of forgiveness?' she thought. It explained everything—why, for three years, they had shown her phony respect as Lucas's wife while mocking her devotion in private. She had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn't met Lucas seven years ago, if that fateful incident hadn't tied her to him, she would have moved on with her life long ago. "Are you quite done?" Lucas's voice cut through her thoughts as he reached for her arm. She shifted her weight gracefully, letting his hand close on empty air. The rejected gesture hung between them for a beat too long before he withdrew, his features tightening with displeasure. Turning to Emily, who was now dabbing at her eyes, Sophia arched a brow. "There's no need for the waterworks. You're making it look like I'm the one being cruel here." "Sophia, I've treated you like my elder sister. I—" Emily began, trying to defend herself. "Don't," Sophia interrupted, her voice cool. "We arrived minutes apart, and you were first. Let's skip the emotional act." Emily's face turned from pale to deep red as she clenched her jaw in fury. 'Since when has Sophia found this kind of nerve? She used to shrink into silence whenever Lucas was near,' she thought. Despite her three-year absence from the city, Emily had ensured she received every scrap of information about Sophia's life. She knew all about Sophia's pathetic attempts to please Lucas, and she knew exactly how little he cared for his wife. She even knew they kept separate bedrooms, and that on the occasional night Lucas spent with Sophia, he always sent her back to her own room afterward. She knew that to Lucas, Sophia was just a body—convenient, disposable, and utterly unimportant. With a dark expression, Lucas grabbed Sophia's wrist and began pulling her toward the exit. Sophia's answer was a sharp, stinging slap across his cheek. The sound cracked through the air, and a dead silence fell over the room. All eyes were fixed on Sophia in pure shock. Everyone was wondering if she had lost her mind to dare something like that. Lucas slowly worked his jaw, the look in his eyes so dark that it promised retribution. When Sophia resisted, Lucas didn't hesitate. He swept her up onto his shoulder and carried her out of the room. The sight made Emily's heart clench. She'd never seen Lucas be so patient with anyone. Before she knew it, her hand was on his arm. "Lucas..." He didn't turn his head, but some of the tension left his expression. "I'm taking her home," he said firmly. "The driver will return for you when you're ready." Emily could only watch as Lucas walked away with Sophia. She had no right to stop him, but it stung—this was the first time he'd ever left her for another woman, especially one who meant nothing. Her hands tightened at her sides. 'I gave you a chance to walk away quietly, Sophia. You brought this on yourself,' she thought. Sophia's protests echoed down the hallway as she struggled against Lucas's hold. Unsure what was happening between the couple, Annabelle turned away, pretending she hadn't noticed them. Lucas carried Sophia into the elevator and stepped out briskly when it reached the basement level. As the car door opened, Lucas tossed Sophia into the back seat. Struggling upright, she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea from the prolonged time she'd spent upside down. She opened her mouth to curse, but the words died on her lips as the tinted window of a nearby Maybach began to descend. In the shadowy interior, the man's profile was sharp and forbidding. His lips were set in a firm line, and he sat with the imposing stillness of an iceberg, his presence pushing others away. Sensing her gaze, he glanced over, and their eyes locked. Without a word, Sophia averted her gaze and hid her face behind a veil of tangled hair. Chapter 7 Not Her Home Anymore Lucas's black Bentley pulled out of the underground parking garage, but Sophia was still lost in thought about those intense eyes. There was something familiar about them, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen them before. Lucas's voice broke the silence. "Did you follow me here? What are you so concerned about?" "What?" Sophia asked, snapping back to reality. Keeping his eyes on the road, Lucas tried to explain. "You know how my friends are—they never think before they speak. Don't take their words seriously. There's nothing going on between Emily and me." 'If there's really nothing between them, why was he being so protective? He only rushed me out because he was worried I might cause a scene and embarrass Emily,' Sophia thought. "Sure," Sophia said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You and Emily are completely innocent." "I'm trying to explain myself here," Lucas said, his patience wearing thin. "Do you have to be so sarcastic?" Her ungrateful attitude was beginning to irritate him. He remembered how she used to soften at the slightest reassurance. Now, it seemed her patience had worn thin. "Understood," Sophia said, her tone flat. "Is that all?" "I've been clear from the beginning—you are my wife, and that won't change. But if you want this marriage to work, you need to drop your little tricks. I won't play these games." Sophia stayed quiet, struck by his assumption that her mention of divorce was merely a plea for attention. Her silence tightened the air between them. "Don't become someone I resent, Sophia," he said with a frown, his voice low. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips as she turned toward the window, shutting him out completely. Sensing he had pushed too far, Lucas eased his tone. "I had your things moved back to our room. If you want to stay with me, just say so. There's no need for all this." Sophia was left speechless. ***** As the car came to a stop in the courtyard of Nightfall Estate, Sophia stepped out. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the cherry blossom grove in the garden. The sight sent a sharp pang through her chest. She forced her gaze away and continued into the villa. Inside, the decor had been completely redone. The new style, with its unmistakable resemblance to the Evans residence, clearly revealed who had overseen the renovations. She moved through rooms that felt entirely alien to her now, but she kept her thoughts to herself since this was no longer her home. Wendy looked surprised when she saw Sophia. "Mrs. Westwood, you've returned. Have you had your supper?" Sinking into the plush pink sofa, Sophia answered quietly, "Yes, thank you." Wendy offered a tight smile before retreating to her quarters to make a hurried phone call to Helen, reporting the unexpected arrival. Helen had never approved of Sophia, whom she saw as a plain nobody not good enough for her son. The infertility diagnosis hardened Helen's resolve to rush the divorce so Lucas could marry someone worthy of giving her grandchildren. The news of Sophia's sudden return after her dramatic departure kept Helen tossing and turning all night. Lucas had been certain Sophia would confront him about the complete makeover of their home. He stood ready to smooth things over, but she walked through the rooms without comment, her silence leaving him more unsettled than any argument would have. "If the decor isn't to your taste..." Lucas moved to sit beside her, his arms beginning to encircle her. Sophia reached for a throw pillow, tucking it between them as she shifted away from his embrace. The gentle rejection stung, though Lucas reassured himself that this was the same woman who had always adored him. "It's true. I prefer my original choices," she said calmly. "Can you have everything returned to how it was?" The warm, elegant furnishings had vanished, replaced by the overwhelming pinks that Emily favored—a transformation that had turned their home into something resembling a kitschy boutique hotel. Lucas shifted uncomfortably. "Let's not make a big deal out of it. You'll get used to the way things are around here." A faint, knowing smile curved on Sophia's lips as she met his gaze. That smile never failed to get under his skin. "Try to see it from her perspective, Sophia," he said, his voice tightening. "After everything she's been through these past three years, all Emily wants is to feel like she belongs." A wave of exhaustion washed over her. It was like talking to a brick wall. "I know," she said flatly. "You have your entire family backing you up," Lucas shot back, his patience clearly wearing thin. "But Emily? She has nobody else. Is it really so hard for you to be a little more compassionate?" "Funny," Sophia replied, her tone icy. "I was under the impression my adoptive parents were still very much alive." Besides, the Evans family had never once ceased to think about Emily throughout those three years. They made trip after trip to Felarica to celebrate Emily's birthdays and attend her parties. They even missed Sophia's wedding to Lucas because of her. A single social media post from Emily, complaining of her loneliness in Felarica, was all it took for them to drop everything and fly to her side. "Now that you've made it out of that dead-end town, you should be the last person to let Emily sink into it," he shot back. As Sophia looked at him, the last glimmer of hope in her eyes vanished. She knew well enough to stop mentioning divorce. To Lucas, it was just another act—proof that she was the same desperate woman the world thought her to be. If she couldn't get through to Lucas, she was going to find another path. Now, with her infertility diagnosis, she knew Helen would be far more impatient to act on this news. Sophia retreated to the master bedroom. Her possessions had claimed their space, with her clothes occupying half of the vast closet. A sense of normalcy had finally settled between her and Lucas, the kind that belongs to a husband and wife. But it was a fragile peace, already beginning to fray. Lucas was still in the living room when Emily returned. The air around her carried the sharp tang of liquor. Her face was deeply flushed, and she swayed slightly as she walked. He was at her side in an instant, his hand gently steadying her. "You've had far too much to drink," he murmured, his brow furrowed with worry. "This isn't good for you. I don't want to see you like this again." Emily turned into him, her arms finding their way around his neck. "I couldn't help it," she whispered, her voice thick with drink and emotion. "It's the only thing that dulls the ache." Sensing her legs might give way, he simply gathered her into his arms. "Wendy," he said to the housekeeper who had appeared, heading for the stairs. "Would you bring up some electrolyte water for Emily?" "Understood," Wendy replied. Playing the part of the drunken mess, Emily clung to Lucas and sobbed into his chest. "I've always regretted it," she cried. "Letting my pride push you away was the biggest mistake of my life." A long-buried tenderness tugged at Lucas's heart. "Let's try again, Lucas. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice," she whispered, tilting her face up to his. Just as their lips were about to meet, the master bedroom door swung open, and the sudden movement startled the couple in the hallway. Sophia stood in the doorway in her pajamas, watching them with a completely expressionless face. Lucas instantly snapped back to reality, and a rare look of panic flashed across his handsome face. "Sophie, Emily is drunk," he said quickly. "I'm just taking her back to her room." Still draped around him, Emily met Sophia's eyes over Lucas's shoulder. The tears were gone, replaced by a cool, triumphant smirk that held no trace of intoxication. Sophia's mouth curved into a humorless smile as she replied, "Yes, and you're drunk too." Without another word, she stepped back and slammed the door, the turn of the lock echoing decisively behind her. The idea of sleeping next to Lucas made her blood boil. She honestly didn't trust herself to lie beside him all night without her rage getting the better of her. Chapter 8 Divorce Settlement The next morning, as Sophia left her room, the guest room door across the hall opened at the exact same time. Lucas was stepping out, finishing with his tie. He glanced up and went completely still, finding Sophia already watching him from their bedroom doorway. Surprise flashed across his face, and he started with an explanation. "She was a mess last night," he said, his voice low. "I couldn't just leave her." Sophia's eyes dropped to the bright red smudge on his collar. Her eyes were filled with silent scorn as she thought about how filthy it was. She said with icy calm, "Relax, I know perfectly well that nothing would ever happen between you two, even when you don't have a stitch of clothing on." Her words cut off whatever excuse Lucas was about to offer. Anger darkened his features. "Think what you want," he snapped. "My feelings for her are purely brotherly." Sophia's eyes fell to the lipstick stain on his collar again. "So, how does it feel to be so close to your 'sister'?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Following her line of sight, Lucas saw the evidence, and a shadow of guilt crossed his face. "It was an accident," he insisted, his voice tight. "Don't make it sound so sordid." "So filthy," she murmured, shaking her head. As he drew a sharp breath to retaliate, she added with a cold smile, "I mean your shirt." He stared at her, his expression turning to stone. She merely offered a careless shrug and walked away, leaving him fuming in the hallway. Downstairs, Sophia was halfway through her breakfast when her phone vibrated on the table. A quick glance at the screen confirmed it was Helen calling. Just then, Wendy appeared with two additional breakfast plates. Sophia swiped to answer the call, a deliberate smile directed at Wendy. "You're calling so early, Mrs. Westwood." The pointed smile made Wendy's blood run cold, and at the mention of Mrs. Westwood, she was reminded of betraying Sophia by reporting to Helen last night. Stricken with guilt, she almost fumbled the tray. She dropped the plates onto the table and hastily retreated to the safety of the kitchen. A faint, cold smile touched Sophia's lips as Helen's venomous voice filled her ear. "Utterly devoid of manners," Helen sneered. "What else can you expect from someone with such a common background?" Sophia's eyes turned to ice. "Trace any lineage back three generations, Mrs. Westwood, and you'll find humble roots. It's distasteful to scorn your own origins." Helen found herself at a loss for words. Though Lucas's parents both had city roots, his grandparents' generation had all struggled in a backwater. Helen's parents had even lived in a cowshed. So in that regard, Helen was no better than Sophia. "That sharp tongue of yours is exactly why people can't stand you," Helen shot back. Sophia rolled her eyes in contempt. Biting back her anger, Helen forced a calmer tone. "We need to meet. There's a document for you to sign." "What kind of document?" "It'll be clear when you get here." Letting the matter drop, Sophia hung up. As she did, she saw Lucas descending the staircase. He had showered and changed, his hair perfectly styled like a model from the pages of a magazine. She had to admit, he was pleasing to look at. 'With those looks, he certainly has the assets for a career as a gigolo,' Sophia thought wryly. A smug feeling warmed Lucas as her eyes stayed on him. He drew out the chair next to hers and sat down. "Paliston Fashion Week is just around the corner," he offered. "It'll be a good chance for us to get away." In three years of marriage, it was the first time he had ever proposed such a thing. Sophia acknowledged him with a quiet hum, but she felt no spark of happiness or expectation. She saw the offer for what it was—a peace offering, born of the guilt he carried after his betrayal. Her ride showed up shortly after breakfast. Picking up her bag, Sophia walked out the door.
Chapter 1 His First Love Returned Sophia Evans could feel her world beginning to crack the moment she heard the news—the woman her husband, Lucas Westwood, had never gotten over was back. When Sophia arrived at the hotel's VIP suite with a gift, she found Lucas's first love—Emily Evans—being humiliated by his childhood friends. "Lick the wine off my shoe, Emily. I'll give you thirty thousand dollars," one of them said. Emily was forced to kneel on the floor, tears in her defiant eyes as she stared shamefully at Lucas. Lucas watched with a dark expression, saying nothing as he held his temper in check. Sophia halted mid-step, struck by the painful familiarity of the scene. Three years ago, when she had first been welcomed into the Evans family, these same privileged young men had tormented her in exactly the same way to gain Emily's favor. But back then, Lucas hadn't worn this expression of utter heartbreak. "There you are," Lucas said as soon as he spotted Sophia, his arm sliding around her waist in a show of intimacy. Only Sophia could feel the desperate pressure of his grip—a silent testament to the pain he was trying to conceal. Lucas's childhood friends had reserved the entire venue for his birthday celebration. But Sophia had never expected Emily to show up here. Everyone knew Lucas had married Sophia just to spite Emily. Three years ago, Emily's identity as a fake heiress was exposed. She broke up with Lucas then and there and left the Evans family behind. Lucas pursued her to the airport, boarded her departing flight, and forced the plane that had already taken off to turn back. Right there on that plane, he proposed to Emily. To his complete surprise, Emily refused without hesitation, declaring that the arranged marriage should be honored by the Evans family's true heiress. Humiliated and acting out of spite, Lucas married Sophia instead. For three years, Sophia had lived as Emily's stand-in. Everyone whispered that if Emily ever returned, Lucas would discard Sophia without a second thought. Sophia had once believed that too, but something had shifted in these past six months—Lucas seemed to be genuinely falling for her. He made grand declarations of love in the press, showered her with luxury homes and cars, and even replaced the cherry tree he'd planted for Emily with a garden full of red roses. In their most tender moments, he'd whisper against her ear, "Let's have a baby, Sophie. I hope they have your smile." Sophia's hand drifted absently to her stomach as she clutched the gift box a little tighter. Inside was a positive pregnancy test—meant to be Lucas's birthday surprise. But now, the timing of the gift felt all wrong. "You still think you're the Evans family princess, Emily? Lucas only has eyes for Sophia now. Why not be with me? A pretty thing like you deserves to be treated right," one of Lucas's friends, Ryan Shaw, sneered. He dragged Emily onto his lap, his hands already roaming over her. "Get your hands off me!" Emily cried, fighting against Ryan's grip as humiliation burned through her. Her resistance only fueled Ryan's excitement. In one swift motion, he shoved her down onto the couch, his powerful body trapping hers. Horrified that Ryan would assault Emily right in front of Lucas, Sophia jumped up to stop him, only to be shoved aside as Lucas already surged into action. As she stumbled, her hands instinctively reached for Lucas's arm, but he brutally shook her off. She hit the floor hard, a jolt of sharp pain shooting from her tailbone straight to her womb. Through the pain-induced haze, she saw Lucas grab Ryan by the collar, drag him off Emily, and pummel his face with brutal, unforgiving fists. "You've overstepped, Ryan. Emily is mine. Even if I discard her, she'll never be yours to touch," Lucas snapped. His words hung in the air, and the entire room fell silent as if frozen in time. Sophia stared at Lucas in disbelief, wondering where she stood in his life now that he had openly claimed Emily as his woman. All eyes in the room were drawn to the scene. Some watched with malicious delight, while others were simply captivated by the unfolding drama. Doubled over in pain, Sophia felt a warm wetness spreading beneath her. Her face paled as a cold dread gripped her heart. "Honey, my stomach hurts," she turned to Lucas instinctively. "Please, take me to the hospital." Without even glancing her way, Lucas removed his jacket and gently placed it around Emily's shoulders. Nestling into his embrace, Emily whispered, her voice trembling, "Lucas, I'm scared. Please take me away from here." "Don't worry," he murmured, holding her close. "I won't let anyone hurt you." Sweeping Emily into his arms, Lucas carried her out of the room, completely ignoring Sophia's pain-racked form shuddering on the floor. Perched comfortably on his shoulder, Emily gazed down at Sophia's crumpled form on the floor, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. The spectators murmured among themselves, still savoring the drama they'd just witnessed. "Emily's definitely the one for Lucas. He hasn't taken his eyes off her all night." "The way Lucas looks at her... I thought it was hatred, but it's clearly something else entirely." "Who could resist someone like her? I certainly wouldn't be able to stay angry." "Poor Sophia. She was just a side character in their love story." At the mention of Sophia's name, the crowd remembered her presence simultaneously, their attention shifting to where she sat. Sophia was in terrible pain and covered in a cold sweat until someone finally noticed her condition and quickly helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?" the guy asked. She gripped his arm tightly as the room spun around her. "Please take me to the hospital. My stomach hurts terribly," she pleaded. Then everything went dark as she fainted. Through the haze of semi-consciousness, distant screams about blood echoed in her ears. When Sophia regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital room. The sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the air as she lay alone in the quiet ward. A nurse tending to her bandages noticed her awakening. "You're awake," she said softly. Sophia's voice came out weak and fearful. "My baby... Is my baby alright?" "Your baby is fine," the nurse reassured her. "But you'll need to take special care. These first few months are particularly delicate in your condition." Relief washed over Sophia as grateful tears fell. "Thank you," she whispered, overwhelmed that her child was safe. Through the emotional turmoil, Sophia's first thought was to share the news with Lucas immediately. Wiping her tears, she reached for her phone and dialed his number. The phone rang several times before Lucas finally picked up. His voice was edged with impatience as he answered, "Not coming home tonight. Don't wait—" "Lucas, my hair's caught in this zipper," Emily's voice interrupted, floating through the line. "Could you give me a hand?" Sophia's knuckles went white around her phone. "Be right there," he said. The call ended before Sophia could form a response. Overnight, things between her and Lucas had reverted to how they were six months ago. Back then, he'd been all cold shoulders and sharp tones. Even in their most intimate moments, he treated her like just another need to be met. To him, she might as well have been a stranger—or worse, just a convenient body. So when he finally let his guard down, she'd been so grateful for the warmth that she fell harder than she ever meant to. She thought her years of longing had finally paid off. But reality slapped her senseless when Lucas chose Emily's safety over their own child's life. After being discharged from the hospital, Sophia caught a taxi home. Midway through the ride, her phone buzzed with a Twitter alert. It was a tweet from Emily: [You told me you'd hold my hand and never let go—not for the rest of our lives.] The attached photo showed Emily dressed like a princess, complete with a tiny crown, her hand locked tightly with a larger, elegant hand. Around the wrist was a bracelet made of prayer beads—the very one Sophia had prayed for in a church last year, when Lucas was burning up with fever. That day, he squeezed her hand and whispered a promise that he would never leave her side. Chapter 2 Ask Him For A Divorce The taxi stopped outside the Nightfall Estate, where Sophia paid the fare and got out of the vehicle. She was just heading inside when a truck carrying young cherry trees rumbled up the drive and stopped near the garden. Workers carefully unloaded the cherry trees and settled them into the prepared holes. Where a vibrant sea of red roses had bloomed just yesterday, now only upturned earth remained, with the plants piled carelessly to the side. A dull ache spread through Sophia's chest as she gazed at the rose petals strewn like crimson tears across the soil. The familiar purr of a luxury car engine approached from behind. Turning around, Sophia saw Lucas step out of the car. He stood tall and straight, radiating a natural air of calm elegance. "Honey..." Sophia began, but the words died on her lips as he leaned back into the car. With gentle care, he helped a woman step out—it was Emily, who looked radiant in an exquisite designer ensemble that made her complexion glow. Only when Emily was steady did Lucas's gaze finally meet Sophia's, those usually warm eyes now regarding her with detached indifference. "Did you need something?" he asked, his tone flat. The cold unfamiliarity in his look struck Sophia's heart like a physical blow. "Why are you tearing out the roses when they were growing so well?" she asked, desperate for his explanation. Those roses had been his special way of confessing his feelings to her. Lucas barely glanced at the destroyed garden. "Emily's not feeling well. She'll be staying with us for a bit." "What does that have to do with the roses?" she pressed. "She's allergic to the pollen," he said curtly, already turning to guide Emily inside. Sophia stood rooted to the spot, her heart breaking. Emily's delicate voice carried through the air. "Lucas, Sophia seems upset. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have complained about the roses." "She doesn't matter to me," Lucas reassured her. "But I worry she'll resent me. Really, I can manage with allergy medication," Emily offered, her voice dripping with false concern. "Medication always has side effects. Don't suggest things that worry me," he replied. Sophia stood motionless as she watched their figures grow smaller in the distance. A silent tear traced its way down her cheek while overwhelming sorrow washed over her. 'I don't matter to him... Yeah, right,' Sophia murmured with bitter irony, the truth of the words settling like a weight in her heart. He hadn't even asked about her absence last night, and now he had ordered her favorite roses to be torn out. The message was clear—she meant less to him than the slightest thought of Emily. For three years, she had devoted herself to him, offering unwavering love and comfort through difficult times. She had believed her constant warmth could thaw even the coldest heart, but Emily's reappearance had erased everything in an instant. She wondered what their intimacy these past six months had truly meant, and what role she had actually played in his life. A sudden twinge in her lower abdomen made her catch her breath. Pale and unsteady, she turned toward the villa. As Sophia stepped into the living room, she saw Emily nestled against Lucas on the sofa, watching with affectionate amusement as he peeled an orange for her. Lucas gently picked away every bit of white pith from the orange segments before arranging them on a plate for Emily. "For you," he said with a soft smile. "Enjoy, my little foodie." As Emily took the plate, she noticed Sophia entering the room. A triumphant smile graced her lips as she called out, "Sophia, would you like some? Lucas peeled these himself. Something you've never experienced, I'm sure." Sophia's gaze fell upon the perfectly prepared orange segments, and she felt a sudden sting behind her eyes. The painful truth was that in all their time together, Lucas had never once peeled an orange for her. She had always been the one serving him. The realization struck her with perfect clarity—Lucas knew well how to be thoughtful, but he simply reserved his kindness for Emily. Sophia felt her heart breaking into pieces as she finally understood how painful comparison could be. "She's perfectly capable of peeling her own fruit," Lucas said dismissively, barely glancing at Sophia. Then he noticed her pale complexion and added, "Are you alright? You look terribly pale." Sophia's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she debated telling Lucas her secret pregnancy. A fragile hope whispered within her—that this truth might finally soften his heart toward her. "I..." Her voice faltered, the words dying on her lips. "If you're ill, see a doctor. This pathetic act is getting tiresome," Lucas said, impatience flashing across his handsome features. He was annoyed by her wounded expression, which seemed to suggest she was the victim of some terrible injustice. Sophia swallowed her unspoken words, her gaze lingering on the man who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. "I'm fine," she murmured. "I'll just go to my room." As she turned toward the staircase, Lucas felt a surge of irritation. 'I must've been too lenient with her, and now she dared to show me attitude,' he thought, fuming. Sophia had only climbed a few steps when the housekeeper, Wendy, appeared descending the stairs with servants carrying boxes. The items looked familiar, but it was the sight of her stuffed doll in Wendy's arms that made Sophia realize everything they carried was hers. In a swift motion, she stepped forward and snatched the doll. Her voice turned icy as she asked, "Wendy, care to explain this?" "Mr. Westwood's orders," Wendy said quietly. "You're to move to the storage room downstairs." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, leaving her mind reeling. She turned to Lucas, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious." They'd already maintained separate bedrooms, but she never imagined that she'd be banished to a storage room instead of even being offered the guest suite after Emily's return. For a fleeting moment under her gaze, Lucas felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly hardened into resolve. "Emily needs the sunroom for her health," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your room gets the best light. It's better for her recovery." The absurdity of it all drew a bitter laugh from Sophia's lips. She thought his previous cruelty—shoving her while pregnant and replacing her roses with Emily's cherry trees—had been the worst it could get. But this new humiliation surpassed even that. All Lucas had done since Emily's return yesterday was talk about her. In just one day, she had turned Sophia's whole life upside down. Sophia expected to feel rage, but instead found only a hollow emptiness settling in her chest. 'Look at him, Sophia,' Sophia thought bitterly. 'This is the man you gave your heart and soul to. Was any of it worth it?' "If you're so worried about her comfort, why not just move her into your room? The master suite gets the best light anyway," Sophia shot back. Lucas responded sharply, "Sophia, you need to watch your tone." Emily's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I know you don't want me here, Sophia. I'll go. Please don't fight with Lucas over me." Sophia saw right through Emily's act. A humorless laugh escaped her as she spat, "You're not going anywhere. I am." Tightening her grip on the stuffed doll, she turned and headed for the door. "Don't you dare, Sophia." Lucas rose to his feet, his voice cutting through the room. "Walk out that door now, and don't expect to ever come back." Sophia's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "I'll make sure you receive the divorce papers," she said, her voice cold and steady. "See that you sign them." "You're asking me for a divorce?" Lucas's voice was low, thick with barely restrained fury. He added, his tone edged with contempt, "Have you forgotten who gave you this life, Sophia? The luxury, the status—all of it came from me. Without my name, you're just that wide-eyed girl fresh off that forgotten little town. You don't get to leave." Chapter 3 The Replaced Medical Result Sophia didn't need to look back to know the condescending smirk that was surely on Lucas's face. She knew he had always despised her. His proposal three years ago had been motivated only by a desire to fulfill the marriage agreement between their families and to exact revenge on Emily. She had been naive enough to believe his empty promises, offering him her genuine love when he saw her as nothing more than a pawn. To him, she would always be a leech, clinging to his wealth and name for survival. But now, she had reached her limit, and she no longer wanted him in her life. Sophia walked out without a backward glance. As she stepped through the gateway, the sound of shattering porcelain echoed behind her, but she no longer cared. Lucas stood amid the shattered remains, fingers pressed to his temples. His face was a mask of simmering anger. He dismissed the mention of divorce as just another one of her calculated moves, a transparent attempt to get his attention by pulling away. Emily watched him hesitantly. "Maybe I shouldn't be staying here, Lucas. Sophia seemed really upset." "It's nothing," Lucas replied evenly. Seeing how the mention of divorce had affected him, she suggested softly, "You could go after her. Women usually respond well to a little reassurance." "I don't have time for that," Lucas said, turning toward the staircase. With a business trip looming, his mind was elsewhere. 'Let her make a scene if she wants to,' he thought. 'She'll cool off and come crawling back. She always does.' ***** Sophia's home was a beautiful 3,200-square-foot apartment with an open-concept layout and sleek modern decor—all paid for with her own earnings. In her study, she printed the divorce papers and a letter resigning from her position. With a steady hand, she signed both, and then summoned a courier to deliver them directly to the Westwood Group. When she married Lucas three years ago, Sophia had joined his company, hoping to build a genuine connection with him. She started at the very bottom as an assistant and gradually earned her way up to department manager. She had wanted nothing more than to be close to him—in their home and at work. But in the end, her efforts were met with cold indifference. Gazing downward, Sophia softly cradled her stomach. "It's just us now, little one," she whispered. The courier arrived at Westwood headquarters while Lucas was away. His chief executive assistant, Kevin Chapman, received the delivery and signed. The moment Kevin saw the contents, he reached for the phone, dialing Lucas's number in haste. "Mr. Westwood, your wife has sent divorce documents." "Burn it all." On the other side of the ocean, Lucas loosened his tie as an unexpected wave of irritation came over him. "But Mrs. Westwood has even submitted her resignation letter..." Kevin replied, his tone hesitant. "She can't survive without this family." The blue flame from Lucas's lighter highlighted the grim set of his features. "Let her be. She'll come crawling back once reality sets in." Meanwhile, Sophia remained completely unaware of his words. Her morning had begun with a call from her mother-in-law, Helen Westwood. "Where are you? Return at once," Helen commanded in her typically imperious manner, leaving no room for discussion. Complying, Sophia drove back to the estate. No sooner had she stepped inside than a velvet box came hurling toward her head, which she narrowly avoided by stepping aside. Helen's shrill voice pierced the air. "How dare you avoid that? You've got some nerve." Sophia's gaze fell upon the velvet box at her feet, and suddenly, she understood why it seemed familiar. She remembered purchasing that exact box to store her pregnancy test results. On Lucas's birthday, she had intended to present it to him as a gift, but he had accidentally pushed her before she could give it to him, resulting in her hospitalization. Her heart leaped as she turned to face Helen's livid expression. 'Could she know about the pregnancy? But something about her reaction seems strange,' she wondered. For three years, Helen had made no secret of her disapproval of Sophia, someone raised in a small town. Yet every time Sophia visited the Westwood residence with Lucas, Helen would consistently nag Sophia about starting a family soon. If Helen knew Sophia was pregnant, she was supposed to be absolutely delighted instead of reacting like this. Helen clutched a medical report, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared down Sophia. "For three years, I've watched your marriage to Lucas, wondering why you never conceived. Now I understand—he married a barren woman. "If you hadn't left this at the hotel and Lucas's friend hadn't been kind enough to deliver it, I'd still be in the dark about your condition." Heart pounding with shock, Sophia ignored Helen's murderous gaze and snatched the document from her hand. The clinical report lay cold and pale in the morning light. There was her name, clearly printed, alongside the devastating diagnosis: "permanent infertility." 'Permanent infertility? But that's impossible. I'm pregnant. Someone must have switched my test results. But who would do such a thing?' Sophia wondered. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "This isn't my..." Emily, who had remained silent until now, suddenly interrupted, "Sophia, the Westwood lineage has been passed down through a single heir for ten generations. Are you trying to ensure Lucas dies without an heir? To extinguish the family line completely?" "How utterly heartless!" Helen exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Sophia as her anger reached its peak. "We've welcomed you with open arms since you married into this family. Yet you've been hiding this from us? To think you'd let our family line die out—it's truly despicable!" she added. Sophia didn't even attempt to explain herself. If they wanted to believe she was barren, so be it—it would only simplify the divorce proceedings. "I only received the results two days ago. I hadn't found the right moment to share the news," Sophia replied, her voice calm. "This wasn't about finding the right moment. You did this intentionally," Helen retorted, her face contorted with rage. "And you planned to give this to Lucas as a gift? What kind of twisted mind would conceive such a thing?" Sophia maintained her silence. Helen took a measured breath, forcing her anger down. "If you can't conceive naturally, I won't hold it against you. I've spoken with Emily, and she's agreed to donate her eggs so you and Lucas can pursue in vitro fertilization." Sophia stared in disbelief at the unexpected turn. "Could you repeat that?" She believed she had misheard because the suggestion was both preposterous and deeply offensive. "If you can't conceive, that's your problem. Emily is being extraordinarily generous by offering her eggs. The least you could do is show some appreciation instead of this ingratitude," Helen sneered. A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. "Perhaps you'd like to accept this generous offer yourself?" "How dare you speak to me like that!" Helen's eyes flashed with fury. "Sophia, you shouldn't speak to Mrs. Westwood that way. She was suggesting that for your sake," Emily said in a honeyed tone, reaching for the glass. As she moved, she made certain to display the prayer beads circling her delicate wrist. Sophia's breath caught—she would recognize the bracelet anywhere. That was the very ones she had sacrificed so much to obtain while praying for Lucas's recovery. It felt like a personal insult, seeing the bracelet that symbolized her love for Lucas now clasped around Emily's wrist. "For my sake?" Sophia repeated, the words tasting bitter as she caught the sly glint of satisfaction in Emily's eyes. It sent a sharp ache through her. She knew this game all too well. Emily had a gift for twisting people's vulnerabilities to her advantage, a lesson Sophia had learned the hard way three years ago. "I'm infertile. What possible use could I have for your eggs?" Sophia asked, her voice cold. "Do you really think I need a constant reminder of what I can't have?" Emily's smile vanished. For Helen's benefit, she bit her lip, her eyes instantly welling with feigned hurt. "Mrs. Westwood," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "I was only trying to help Sophia." Helen immediately comforted Emily by patting her hand. She then shot Sophia a disapproving look. "How can you be so selfish, Sophia? Are you really determined to let the Westwood family line die out?" Sophia gestured dismissively toward Emily. "Well, if she's so fertile, let her handle the baby-making." The thought of Emily getting to be a mother the easy way turned Sophia's stomach. Chapter 4 Take Back Her Things The color drained from both Helen's and Emily's faces. Helen stepped forward, jabbing a finger toward Sophia. "You think you're better than us? Then you give the Westwood family an heir. Don't blame anyone else for your own useless womb." Sophia bit back the sharp retort on her tongue. She was done with this family, done with Lucas. Arguing now would only prolong the inevitable. "Mrs. Westwood," she began, "I've decided—" Lucas's familiar, deep voice cut through the tension from the doorway. "Decided what?" Sophia turned to see Lucas standing there, his clothes rumpled from travel. His assistant, Kevin, hovered behind him with a suitcase in hand. The air in the room was thick with tension, so Kevin knew better than to stay. He simply left the suitcase by the door and made a quick exit. Loosening his tie, Lucas turned to Helen. "Mom, what brings you here?" "If I hadn't come, you'd have let our family name die out," Helen shot back. She then snatched the medical report from Sophia and flung it at Lucas's chest. "See for yourself," she said coldly, and with that, she swept out of the room. Lucas looked down at the document in his hands, and the words "permanent infertility" caused a faint twitch in his brow. His eyes, when they finally lifted to meet Sophia's, were devoid of warmth. "You'll go back to the hospital tomorrow for a full work-up. I will not have a wife who can't give me an heir." A hollow ache spread through Sophia's chest. Any foolish hope she'd been clinging to finally faded. Lucas had never defended her in three years of his mother's constant belittlement. And now, the ease with which he believed this lie revealed the chilling truth of his character. "I have the divorce papers right here," Sophia said, pulling the documents from her bag. She extended them toward him, her voice steady. "Just sign them, and you'll never have to see me again." Lucas didn't even look at the papers. In one swift motion, his hand closed around her throat, pulling her close. He leaned in until his face was mere inches from hers, and she could feel his warm breath and smell the familiar scent of his cologne. There was a time when this closeness would have made her heart flutter. Now, it only made her skin crawl. It was amazing how easy it was to walk away when all the love had drained away. "Sophia, have I been too soft with you?" Lucas's voice was thick with contempt. "Where exactly do you think you'll go without my protection?" She held his gaze without flinching. "That's really none of your concern anymore." "Still got that sharp tongue," he sneered. He released her with a dismissive shove, as if her defiance meant nothing. "Go make me dinner. I'm hungry." A wave of pain shot through Sophia's lower abdomen as she sank into the sofa, her skin turning clammy with an instant, cold sweat. Across the room, Emily slid her arm through Lucas's with practiced ease. "Don't let Sophia bother you," she murmured. "Her little scene was just a cry for your attention." Lucas pulled his tie free, his stern expression melting away as he focused on Emily. "How are you holding up?" he asked, his tone gentler. "I'm fine," she sighed, putting on a pitiful face. "It's just that the medicine is so awfully bitter." "It's bitter because it's strong. You need to keep taking it," he reminded her. "I picked up those candies you like. They're in my suitcase. Go get them yourself." "I know you always look out for me," Emily said, stretching up to press a light kiss to Lucas's cheek. "Consider that your reward." A look of quiet satisfaction crossed his features at the gesture. "I'm going up to shower," he said. "Go ahead," Emily said sweetly, fluttering a wave at him. She waited until Lucas's footsteps faded up the staircase before turning to the suitcase. They carried on as if Sophia weren't standing right there in the same room. Humming cheerfully, Emily unzipped the luggage. Alongside Lucas's neatly folded clothes sat a jar of shimmering candies and an elegant red velvet box that clearly held something valuable. Her eyes skipped over the candy, going straight to the velvet box. When she lifted the lid, a pink diamond necklace lay gleaming, its facets scattering rainbows in the light. "Oh, it's exquisite. I love it," she whispered, her eyes widening. "So the candy was just a decoy. This necklace is what he really wanted me to find." Draping the necklace against her collarbone, Emily turned to face Sophia, who had risen from the sofa. "Well, Sophia? Don't you think it suits me perfectly?" The pink diamond necklace around Emily's neck struck Sophia as oddly familiar. It came to her a moment later—she had coveted it last month while flipping through a magazine. Lucas had seen her fascination and promised to get it for her. The catch was its exclusivity—a single piece, sourced from Melaria, the country where Lucas had been attending to business. "That was for me," Sophia said, her voice calm. The man was disposable, but her possessions were not. She would reclaim what was rightfully hers. With a swift motion, Emily clasped the necklace. "Finders keepers," she said with a mocking grin. Sophia approached for a closer look. Though the necklace was more exquisite than its photograph, any desire for it had vanished. A wary look crossed Emily's face. "What is this about?" "To take what belongs to me, of course," Sophia said, stepping close and extending her hand. "It's time you returned it." Emily's hands instinctively flew to the diamond necklace at her throat. "Lucas will never stand for this, Sophia. You know what I mean to him." Sophia almost laughed. She knew well that Emily held a special place in Lucas's heart. But that was irrelevant. She was only claiming what was hers. "Give the bracelet back to me," Sophia said coldly. It was a token earned through true devotion, and she wouldn't let its significance be tarnished. Realizing Sophia only wanted the simple bracelet, Emily smiled condescendingly. 'Some shortsighted people have no taste,' she thought. Emily twisted the bracelet around her wrist. "I heard you went to Grace Abbey to beg for this good-luck charm," she said. "You are so hung up on him, aren't you?" The hypocrisy of her words was almost laughable. "Give it back," Sophia said, her voice like ice. Emily's eyes flickered to a point behind Sophia, and a sly smile touched her lips. She lowered her voice. "If you want it so badly, why don't you come and take it?" Sophia didn't stop to think. She grabbed Emily's wrist and tugged the bracelet free. The moment it was off, Emily's demeanor shifted completely. "Sophia, what are you doing?" she cried out, her voice suddenly loud and panicked. "Lucas gave this to me." Before Sophia could even turn around, a powerful hand seized her by the collar and hauled her backwards. The fabric dug sharply into her throat, stealing her breath. Stumbling to regain her footing, Sophia looked up to see Lucas. He was already cradling Emily. "Emily, are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern. Emily buried her face in his chest. "I'm fine," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Please, don't be angry with Sophia. She didn't mean it." Lucas's jaw tightened, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. He took a deep breath and fixed Sophia with an icy stare. "Apologize to Emily." Chapter 5 She Wants A Clean Break A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. She had fooled herself into thinking she was numb to Lucas's coldness. But his command still sent a fresh, sharp pain through her chest. She knew there was no point arguing with a man who had already chosen the other woman's side. "I won't apologize," Sophia said, her fist closing tightly around the bracelet. "What for?" Emily looked up at Lucas with well-practiced vulnerability. "I'm causing trouble here, Lucas. I should go." Lucas caught her wrist before she could take a second step. "You're staying right here." His attention snapped back to Sophia, his expression darkening. "Now, Sophia, apologize to Emily." The room blurred as tears filled Sophia's eyes, twisting his familiar face into a stranger's. She lifted the simple bracelet between them. "This is my stuff in the first place. Since when is taking back what was stolen a crime?" "Your stuff? Since when do you have anything of your own?" Lucas's lips curled in a sneer. "I've paid for every stitch of clothing on your back." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, forcing a bitter laugh from her lips. He knew perfectly well she earned her own living, yet he took every opportunity to demean her. "This bracelet came from Grace Abbey," she countered, her voice trembling. "You didn't pay a cent for it." Lucas's eyes dropped to the simple beads in her palm. "You think I care about some cheap bracelet?" he scoffed. Hot tears streamed down Sophia's face without warning. Wiping them away, Sophia made a silent vow—this would be the last time he reduced her to this. "Fine!" With one sharp motion, she snapped the bracelet's cord, sending beads skittering across the floor. Lucas watched the scattered beads come to rest, his hand curling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. He knew how much that bracelet meant to her, but the moment Emily wanted it, he didn't hesitate to take it off and hand it over. Lucas's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "Sophia!" "I want a divorce," Sophia said, her voice eerily calm. As she opened her hand, the last bead from the bracelet clattered onto the floor between them. "Let's just end this." The sound was small, but in the tense silence, it was deafening, echoing in Lucas's mind. He let out a short laugh, his gaze locked on her. "You think a threat will work? You should know better than that by now." 'This has to be a ploy,' he thought to himself. 'She loves me too much to go through with it. She has accepted her role as Emily's replacement from the beginning and has never once tried to leave. 'She would never have the strength to walk away from me.' "Go make us something to eat, and we can forget this ever happened." Lucas was certain he had thrown Sophia a lifeline. He waited, fully expecting her to be overcome with relief and scurry off to the kitchen. He'd been away on business, and days of unfamiliar rich food had left his stomach unsettled. What he craved was Sophia's cooking—simple, hearty food that tasted like home. It was a flavor he couldn't find anywhere else. "You can go eat your ass," Sophia shot back. She picked up her bag, her lips twisting into a scornful smile, and walked out without a backward glance. That smile grated on Lucas's nerves more than the insult itself. In his frustration, his eyes fell on the string of prayer beads lying scattered on the floor, and he gave them an impatient kick. 'So that's her game. She wants to challenge me? I'd like to see just how long her resolve will hold,' he thought, fuming. ***** Sophia sped away from Nightfall Estate, her phone buzzing relentlessly on the passenger seat. Lucas's name flashed across the screen again and again until she finally grabbed it and blocked his number for good. When she looked up at the road, she blinked, her vision blurring for a moment. She braced for the familiar sting of tears, but when her fingers touched her skin, it was dry. It was only then that she noticed the soft patter against the windshield. A fine drizzle had begun to fall, and a quiet melancholy settled over her, as gray as the sky. Up ahead, the flickering hazard lights of a sleek black car broke the rhythm of the rain. A man in a soaked suit, looking to be in his forties, stood beside it, waving frantically at passing traffic. Almost without conscious thought, Sophia found herself flipping on her turn signal and pulling over. She rolled down her window as the man rushed over. "Everything okay?" she asked. "It's my boss," the man said, his voice tight with panic. "He's having a heart attack. The ambulance is stuck in a multi-car accident. Please, can you take us to the hospital?" Sophia hesitated. Letting two strange men into her car, especially in this weather, felt dangerous. Every cautionary tale she'd ever heard flashed through her mind. Seeing her hesitation, the man added urgently, "I promise we're not dangerous. My boss is—" But Sophia was already moving, cutting the engine and stepping out into the downpour. "Just get him to my car, now," she called out as she rushed toward their vehicle. As she got closer, she recognized the distinctive emblem of the black Maybach. Working together, they carefully transferred the elderly man from the luxury sedan into Sophia's more modest car. The old man's lips were tinged with blue, and each ragged breath seemed like a struggle, clear signs of his critical condition. Sliding behind the wheel, Sophia started the car and pulled back onto the road, pushing through the veils of rain. In the backseat, the middle-aged man was a whirlwind of activity on his phone, coordinating with a hospital and alerting the family. Beyond the windows, the storm seemed to intensify, as if trying to match the urgency inside the car. After ensuring everything was in place, the man turned to Sophia with heartfelt appreciation. "You're the only one who stopped in this downpour. We can't thank you enough." A warm smile touched Sophia's lips. "Some things are just meant to be." ***** Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital entrance where medical staff stood ready. The team swiftly transferred the elderly man to a stretcher and hurried him inside for emergency care. Just as Sophia was about to drive away, she spotted a lone leather shoe in the backseat—the one the elderly man had been wearing. After a moment's hesitation, she parked properly and carried the shoe to the reception desk, logging it as a lost item. Sophia was just turning to leave when a group emerged from the hospital's main entrance. At the front of the group was a man whose height and posture commanded attention. He turned his sharp gaze on her, and the intensity in his eyes was so commanding that it felt like a physical pressure. 'That frown means trouble,' Sophia thought. She averted her gaze and continued walking, brushing past the group without a second look. It wasn't until she was back in the driver's seat that she felt the chill of her wet clothes clinging to her skin. As she dried her hair with a towel from the backseat, a notification popped up on her phone while she was opening the navigation app. It was a post from Emily: [Nothing says 'forever' like a soft-boiled egg made with love! My ultimate comfort food.] The post featured two photos—one showed a soft-boiled egg with a ketchup heart, and the other captured a tall man's back as he stood at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Sophia couldn't help but compare. When she was with Lucas, he had acted like even pouring her a glass of water was a significant concession. Cooking a meal was utterly out of the question. The fact that he was now cooking for Emily spoke volumes about where his true affections lay. She closed the page and entered her apartment address into the navigation system before driving out of the parking lot. As she watched the heavy rain outside, a single decisive thought crystallized in her mind—this marriage was over. Chapter 6 Return The Trash To The Dumpster That evening, a text came through from Annabelle Quinn, Sophia's best friend since college, insisting they go out to a lounge. The old Sophia would have declined immediately, conditioned to obey Lucas's rule about her not going out. But now that Sophia was divorcing him, his opinions held no weight. ***** The moment Sophia stepped out of the car, she saw Annabelle waiting by the entrance. "Hope you haven't been waiting long," she said as she approached. "Just got here," Annabelle grinned, looping her arm through Sophia's. "So, what's the special occasion? Did you finally get a night off from your sweetheart?" Sophia struggled to find the words, but she couldn't keep it from her best friend. "I'm getting a divorce," she finally said. "Let me guess," Annabelle said, not one to mince words in front of her best friend. "This is about Emily being back, isn't it?" "It's not just that," Sophia admitted, her voice quiet. It just took seeing the difference for herself to truly see how little her three years of effort had meant. Annabelle threw a supportive arm around Sophia's shoulders. "You should have woken up to this a long time ago." For three years, she had watched Sophia lose herself in a hollow relationship, and it killed Annabelle to see her friend throw everything away for a man who never appreciated her. "Better late than never," Sophia offered with a weak smile. "Damn right it is," Annabelle declared. "Tonight, I'm getting us the best male models in town. You deserve some real attention." They ascended into the pulsating heart of the club, pushing through the glittering crowd toward the exclusive booth Annabelle had booked. As they moved past the entrance to a private booth, a burst of laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway. Amid the noise, Sophia's own name caught her sharp ear. "Got to hand it to Lucas. The minute Emily was back, he moved her right in. Word is, he showed Sophia the door." "Well, she had it coming. Play the simp, and you lose it all. Seriously though, that night in the booth with all the blood? I truly thought a tragedy had occurred, but it was probably just her period." "You're thinking about that? Man, have you had a thing for Sophia all along?" "Who'd pine after some nobody from a backwater? Only Lucas, with his unique preferences, would stick around for three years." "Guess the novelty wore off. Time for a change." Standing in the hallway, Sophia felt a cold stillness settle behind her eyes. The voices clicked into place—Lucas's oldest friends. They had been there that night, spectators to her most shameful moment. Annabelle's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind." But as she moved toward the door, Sophia stopped her with a gentle hand. "This is my battle to fight," Sophia said firmly. With that, Sophia pushed the door open and swept into the room. She settled gracefully onto the sofa, joining their conversation with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you're talking about unique preferences, I top him," she began, her voice deceptively light, "I recycled what Emily threw away. But it looks like I did everyone a favor by returning the trash to the dumpster where it belongs." A stunned silence fell over the room. Every face on the circular sofa stared at her in horrified fascination. Unbeknownst to Sophia, two figures had entered the room behind her during her speech. The guests' eyes darted nervously between Sophia and the newcomers, the air thickening with tension. There stood Lucas and Emily, their expressions dark as storm clouds. Their presence made Sophia turn. Her eyes instantly met the cold, dark stare of Lucas. But she didn't back down. A defiant shrug lifted her shoulders. "Look what the cat dragged in. My trash husband." Emily's eyes instantly glistened with tears. "Sophia, ignore them," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "It's all lies. Lucas and I are just friends." As if to prove her point, she clutched Lucas's arm. "Tell her, Lucas. Make her understand there's nothing going on between us." Sophia's gaze dropped to the hand clinging to Lucas's arm, and a faint, derisive smile touched her mouth. 'Just friends? Did she really expect anyone to believe that?' she thought bitterly. Lucas detached himself from Emily's grip and closed the distance between him and Sophia. The motion broke the tension, stirring his friends into action. "Hey, Lucas, take it easy," one of them said, stepping forward. "She's just reacting to our stupid jokes." "Come on, Sophia, just say you're sorry to Lucas," another one urged. "You know he'll forgive you." The suggestion made Sophia want to laugh bitterly. 'Is this really how they see me? As some lovesick fool who'd come crawling back at the first sign of forgiveness?' she thought. It explained everything—why, for three years, they had shown her phony respect as Lucas's wife while mocking her devotion in private. She had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn't met Lucas seven years ago, if that fateful incident hadn't tied her to him, she would have moved on with her life long ago. "Are you quite done?" Lucas's voice cut through her thoughts as he reached for her arm. She shifted her weight gracefully, letting his hand close on empty air. The rejected gesture hung between them for a beat too long before he withdrew, his features tightening with displeasure. Turning to Emily, who was now dabbing at her eyes, Sophia arched a brow. "There's no need for the waterworks. You're making it look like I'm the one being cruel here." "Sophia, I've treated you like my elder sister. I—" Emily began, trying to defend herself. "Don't," Sophia interrupted, her voice cool. "We arrived minutes apart, and you were first. Let's skip the emotional act." Emily's face turned from pale to deep red as she clenched her jaw in fury. 'Since when has Sophia found this kind of nerve? She used to shrink into silence whenever Lucas was near,' she thought. Despite her three-year absence from the city, Emily had ensured she received every scrap of information about Sophia's life. She knew all about Sophia's pathetic attempts to please Lucas, and she knew exactly how little he cared for his wife. She even knew they kept separate bedrooms, and that on the occasional night Lucas spent with Sophia, he always sent her back to her own room afterward. She knew that to Lucas, Sophia was just a body—convenient, disposable, and utterly unimportant. With a dark expression, Lucas grabbed Sophia's wrist and began pulling her toward the exit. Sophia's answer was a sharp, stinging slap across his cheek. The sound cracked through the air, and a dead silence fell over the room. All eyes were fixed on Sophia in pure shock. Everyone was wondering if she had lost her mind to dare something like that. Lucas slowly worked his jaw, the look in his eyes so dark that it promised retribution. When Sophia resisted, Lucas didn't hesitate. He swept her up onto his shoulder and carried her out of the room. The sight made Emily's heart clench. She'd never seen Lucas be so patient with anyone. Before she knew it, her hand was on his arm. "Lucas..." He didn't turn his head, but some of the tension left his expression. "I'm taking her home," he said firmly. "The driver will return for you when you're ready." Emily could only watch as Lucas walked away with Sophia. She had no right to stop him, but it stung—this was the first time he'd ever left her for another woman, especially one who meant nothing. Her hands tightened at her sides. 'I gave you a chance to walk away quietly, Sophia. You brought this on yourself,' she thought. Sophia's protests echoed down the hallway as she struggled against Lucas's hold. Unsure what was happening between the couple, Annabelle turned away, pretending she hadn't noticed them. Lucas carried Sophia into the elevator and stepped out briskly when it reached the basement level. As the car door opened, Lucas tossed Sophia into the back seat. Struggling upright, she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea from the prolonged time she'd spent upside down. She opened her mouth to curse, but the words died on her lips as the tinted window of a nearby Maybach began to descend. In the shadowy interior, the man's profile was sharp and forbidding. His lips were set in a firm line, and he sat with the imposing stillness of an iceberg, his presence pushing others away. Sensing her gaze, he glanced over, and their eyes locked. Without a word, Sophia averted her gaze and hid her face behind a veil of tangled hair. Chapter 7 Not Her Home Anymore Lucas's black Bentley pulled out of the underground parking garage, but Sophia was still lost in thought about those intense eyes. There was something familiar about them, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen them before. Lucas's voice broke the silence. "Did you follow me here? What are you so concerned about?" "What?" Sophia asked, snapping back to reality. Keeping his eyes on the road, Lucas tried to explain. "You know how my friends are—they never think before they speak. Don't take their words seriously. There's nothing going on between Emily and me." 'If there's really nothing between them, why was he being so protective? He only rushed me out because he was worried I might cause a scene and embarrass Emily,' Sophia thought. "Sure," Sophia said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You and Emily are completely innocent." "I'm trying to explain myself here," Lucas said, his patience wearing thin. "Do you have to be so sarcastic?" Her ungrateful attitude was beginning to irritate him. He remembered how she used to soften at the slightest reassurance. Now, it seemed her patience had worn thin. "Understood," Sophia said, her tone flat. "Is that all?" "I've been clear from the beginning—you are my wife, and that won't change. But if you want this marriage to work, you need to drop your little tricks. I won't play these games." Sophia stayed quiet, struck by his assumption that her mention of divorce was merely a plea for attention. Her silence tightened the air between them. "Don't become someone I resent, Sophia," he said with a frown, his voice low. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips as she turned toward the window, shutting him out completely. Sensing he had pushed too far, Lucas eased his tone. "I had your things moved back to our room. If you want to stay with me, just say so. There's no need for all this." Sophia was left speechless. ***** As the car came to a stop in the courtyard of Nightfall Estate, Sophia stepped out. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the cherry blossom grove in the garden. The sight sent a sharp pang through her chest. She forced her gaze away and continued into the villa. Inside, the decor had been completely redone. The new style, with its unmistakable resemblance to the Evans residence, clearly revealed who had overseen the renovations. She moved through rooms that felt entirely alien to her now, but she kept her thoughts to herself since this was no longer her home. Wendy looked surprised when she saw Sophia. "Mrs. Westwood, you've returned. Have you had your supper?" Sinking into the plush pink sofa, Sophia answered quietly, "Yes, thank you." Wendy offered a tight smile before retreating to her quarters to make a hurried phone call to Helen, reporting the unexpected arrival. Helen had never approved of Sophia, whom she saw as a plain nobody not good enough for her son. The infertility diagnosis hardened Helen's resolve to rush the divorce so Lucas could marry someone worthy of giving her grandchildren. The news of Sophia's sudden return after her dramatic departure kept Helen tossing and turning all night. Lucas had been certain Sophia would confront him about the complete makeover of their home. He stood ready to smooth things over, but she walked through the rooms without comment, her silence leaving him more unsettled than any argument would have. "If the decor isn't to your taste..." Lucas moved to sit beside her, his arms beginning to encircle her. Sophia reached for a throw pillow, tucking it between them as she shifted away from his embrace. The gentle rejection stung, though Lucas reassured himself that this was the same woman who had always adored him. "It's true. I prefer my original choices," she said calmly. "Can you have everything returned to how it was?" The warm, elegant furnishings had vanished, replaced by the overwhelming pinks that Emily favored—a transformation that had turned their home into something resembling a kitschy boutique hotel. Lucas shifted uncomfortably. "Let's not make a big deal out of it. You'll get used to the way things are around here." A faint, knowing smile curved on Sophia's lips as she met his gaze. That smile never failed to get under his skin. "Try to see it from her perspective, Sophia," he said, his voice tightening. "After everything she's been through these past three years, all Emily wants is to feel like she belongs." A wave of exhaustion washed over her. It was like talking to a brick wall. "I know," she said flatly. "You have your entire family backing you up," Lucas shot back, his patience clearly wearing thin. "But Emily? She has nobody else. Is it really so hard for you to be a little more compassionate?" "Funny," Sophia replied, her tone icy. "I was under the impression my adoptive parents were still very much alive." Besides, the Evans family had never once ceased to think about Emily throughout those three years. They made trip after trip to Felarica to celebrate Emily's birthdays and attend her parties. They even missed Sophia's wedding to Lucas because of her. A single social media post from Emily, complaining of her loneliness in Felarica, was all it took for them to drop everything and fly to her side. "Now that you've made it out of that dead-end town, you should be the last person to let Emily sink into it," he shot back. As Sophia looked at him, the last glimmer of hope in her eyes vanished. She knew well enough to stop mentioning divorce. To Lucas, it was just another act—proof that she was the same desperate woman the world thought her to be. If she couldn't get through to Lucas, she was going to find another path. Now, with her infertility diagnosis, she knew Helen would be far more impatient to act on this news. Sophia retreated to the master bedroom. Her possessions had claimed their space, with her clothes occupying half of the vast closet. A sense of normalcy had finally settled between her and Lucas, the kind that belongs to a husband and wife. But it was a fragile peace, already beginning to fray. Lucas was still in the living room when Emily returned. The air around her carried the sharp tang of liquor. Her face was deeply flushed, and she swayed slightly as she walked. He was at her side in an instant, his hand gently steadying her. "You've had far too much to drink," he murmured, his brow furrowed with worry. "This isn't good for you. I don't want to see you like this again." Emily turned into him, her arms finding their way around his neck. "I couldn't help it," she whispered, her voice thick with drink and emotion. "It's the only thing that dulls the ache." Sensing her legs might give way, he simply gathered her into his arms. "Wendy," he said to the housekeeper who had appeared, heading for the stairs. "Would you bring up some electrolyte water for Emily?" "Understood," Wendy replied. Playing the part of the drunken mess, Emily clung to Lucas and sobbed into his chest. "I've always regretted it," she cried. "Letting my pride push you away was the biggest mistake of my life." A long-buried tenderness tugged at Lucas's heart. "Let's try again, Lucas. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice," she whispered, tilting her face up to his. Just as their lips were about to meet, the master bedroom door swung open, and the sudden movement startled the couple in the hallway. Sophia stood in the doorway in her pajamas, watching them with a completely expressionless face. Lucas instantly snapped back to reality, and a rare look of panic flashed across his handsome face. "Sophie, Emily is drunk," he said quickly. "I'm just taking her back to her room." Still draped around him, Emily met Sophia's eyes over Lucas's shoulder. The tears were gone, replaced by a cool, triumphant smirk that held no trace of intoxication. Sophia's mouth curved into a humorless smile as she replied, "Yes, and you're drunk too." Without another word, she stepped back and slammed the door, the turn of the lock echoing decisively behind her. The idea of sleeping next to Lucas made her blood boil. She honestly didn't trust herself to lie beside him all night without her rage getting the better of her. Chapter 8 Divorce Settlement The next morning, as Sophia left her room, the guest room door across the hall opened at the exact same time. Lucas was stepping out, finishing with his tie. He glanced up and went completely still, finding Sophia already watching him from their bedroom doorway. Surprise flashed across his face, and he started with an explanation. "She was a mess last night," he said, his voice low. "I couldn't just leave her." Sophia's eyes dropped to the bright red smudge on his collar. Her eyes were filled with silent scorn as she thought about how filthy it was. She said with icy calm, "Relax, I know perfectly well that nothing would ever happen between you two, even when you don't have a stitch of clothing on." Her words cut off whatever excuse Lucas was about to offer. Anger darkened his features. "Think what you want," he snapped. "My feelings for her are purely brotherly." Sophia's eyes fell to the lipstick stain on his collar again. "So, how does it feel to be so close to your 'sister'?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Following her line of sight, Lucas saw the evidence, and a shadow of guilt crossed his face. "It was an accident," he insisted, his voice tight. "Don't make it sound so sordid." "So filthy," she murmured, shaking her head. As he drew a sharp breath to retaliate, she added with a cold smile, "I mean your shirt." He stared at her, his expression turning to stone. She merely offered a careless shrug and walked away, leaving him fuming in the hallway. Downstairs, Sophia was halfway through her breakfast when her phone vibrated on the table. A quick glance at the screen confirmed it was Helen calling. Just then, Wendy appeared with two additional breakfast plates. Sophia swiped to answer the call, a deliberate smile directed at Wendy. "You're calling so early, Mrs. Westwood." The pointed smile made Wendy's blood run cold, and at the mention of Mrs. Westwood, she was reminded of betraying Sophia by reporting to Helen last night. Stricken with guilt, she almost fumbled the tray. She dropped the plates onto the table and hastily retreated to the safety of the kitchen. A faint, cold smile touched Sophia's lips as Helen's venomous voice filled her ear. "Utterly devoid of manners," Helen sneered. "What else can you expect from someone with such a common background?" Sophia's eyes turned to ice. "Trace any lineage back three generations, Mrs. Westwood, and you'll find humble roots. It's distasteful to scorn your own origins." Helen found herself at a loss for words. Though Lucas's parents both had city roots, his grandparents' generation had all struggled in a backwater. Helen's parents had even lived in a cowshed. So in that regard, Helen was no better than Sophia. "That sharp tongue of yours is exactly why people can't stand you," Helen shot back. Sophia rolled her eyes in contempt. Biting back her anger, Helen forced a calmer tone. "We need to meet. There's a document for you to sign." "What kind of document?" "It'll be clear when you get here." Letting the matter drop, Sophia hung up. As she did, she saw Lucas descending the staircase. He had showered and changed, his hair perfectly styled like a model from the pages of a magazine. She had to admit, he was pleasing to look at. 'With those looks, he certainly has the assets for a career as a gigolo,' Sophia thought wryly. A smug feeling warmed Lucas as her eyes stayed on him. He drew out the chair next to hers and sat down. "Paliston Fashion Week is just around the corner," he offered. "It'll be a good chance for us to get away." In three years of marriage, it was the first time he had ever proposed such a thing. Sophia acknowledged him with a quiet hum, but she felt no spark of happiness or expectation. She saw the offer for what it was—a peace offering, born of the guilt he carried after his betrayal. Her ride showed up shortly after breakfast. Picking up her bag, Sophia walked out the door.
Chapter 1 His First Love Returned Sophia Evans could feel her world beginning to crack the moment she heard the news—the woman her husband, Lucas Westwood, had never gotten over was back. When Sophia arrived at the hotel's VIP suite with a gift, she found Lucas's first love—Emily Evans—being humiliated by his childhood friends. "Lick the wine off my shoe, Emily. I'll give you thirty thousand dollars," one of them said. Emily was forced to kneel on the floor, tears in her defiant eyes as she stared shamefully at Lucas. Lucas watched with a dark expression, saying nothing as he held his temper in check. Sophia halted mid-step, struck by the painful familiarity of the scene. Three years ago, when she had first been welcomed into the Evans family, these same privileged young men had tormented her in exactly the same way to gain Emily's favor. But back then, Lucas hadn't worn this expression of utter heartbreak. "There you are," Lucas said as soon as he spotted Sophia, his arm sliding around her waist in a show of intimacy. Only Sophia could feel the desperate pressure of his grip—a silent testament to the pain he was trying to conceal. Lucas's childhood friends had reserved the entire venue for his birthday celebration. But Sophia had never expected Emily to show up here. Everyone knew Lucas had married Sophia just to spite Emily. Three years ago, Emily's identity as a fake heiress was exposed. She broke up with Lucas then and there and left the Evans family behind. Lucas pursued her to the airport, boarded her departing flight, and forced the plane that had already taken off to turn back. Right there on that plane, he proposed to Emily. To his complete surprise, Emily refused without hesitation, declaring that the arranged marriage should be honored by the Evans family's true heiress. Humiliated and acting out of spite, Lucas married Sophia instead. For three years, Sophia had lived as Emily's stand-in. Everyone whispered that if Emily ever returned, Lucas would discard Sophia without a second thought. Sophia had once believed that too, but something had shifted in these past six months—Lucas seemed to be genuinely falling for her. He made grand declarations of love in the press, showered her with luxury homes and cars, and even replaced the cherry tree he'd planted for Emily with a garden full of red roses. In their most tender moments, he'd whisper against her ear, "Let's have a baby, Sophie. I hope they have your smile." Sophia's hand drifted absently to her stomach as she clutched the gift box a little tighter. Inside was a positive pregnancy test—meant to be Lucas's birthday surprise. But now, the timing of the gift felt all wrong. "You still think you're the Evans family princess, Emily? Lucas only has eyes for Sophia now. Why not be with me? A pretty thing like you deserves to be treated right," one of Lucas's friends, Ryan Shaw, sneered. He dragged Emily onto his lap, his hands already roaming over her. "Get your hands off me!" Emily cried, fighting against Ryan's grip as humiliation burned through her. Her resistance only fueled Ryan's excitement. In one swift motion, he shoved her down onto the couch, his powerful body trapping hers. Horrified that Ryan would assault Emily right in front of Lucas, Sophia jumped up to stop him, only to be shoved aside as Lucas already surged into action. As she stumbled, her hands instinctively reached for Lucas's arm, but he brutally shook her off. She hit the floor hard, a jolt of sharp pain shooting from her tailbone straight to her womb. Through the pain-induced haze, she saw Lucas grab Ryan by the collar, drag him off Emily, and pummel his face with brutal, unforgiving fists. "You've overstepped, Ryan. Emily is mine. Even if I discard her, she'll never be yours to touch," Lucas snapped. His words hung in the air, and the entire room fell silent as if frozen in time. Sophia stared at Lucas in disbelief, wondering where she stood in his life now that he had openly claimed Emily as his woman. All eyes in the room were drawn to the scene. Some watched with malicious delight, while others were simply captivated by the unfolding drama. Doubled over in pain, Sophia felt a warm wetness spreading beneath her. Her face paled as a cold dread gripped her heart. "Honey, my stomach hurts," she turned to Lucas instinctively. "Please, take me to the hospital." Without even glancing her way, Lucas removed his jacket and gently placed it around Emily's shoulders. Nestling into his embrace, Emily whispered, her voice trembling, "Lucas, I'm scared. Please take me away from here." "Don't worry," he murmured, holding her close. "I won't let anyone hurt you." Sweeping Emily into his arms, Lucas carried her out of the room, completely ignoring Sophia's pain-racked form shuddering on the floor. Perched comfortably on his shoulder, Emily gazed down at Sophia's crumpled form on the floor, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. The spectators murmured among themselves, still savoring the drama they'd just witnessed. "Emily's definitely the one for Lucas. He hasn't taken his eyes off her all night." "The way Lucas looks at her... I thought it was hatred, but it's clearly something else entirely." "Who could resist someone like her? I certainly wouldn't be able to stay angry." "Poor Sophia. She was just a side character in their love story." At the mention of Sophia's name, the crowd remembered her presence simultaneously, their attention shifting to where she sat. Sophia was in terrible pain and covered in a cold sweat until someone finally noticed her condition and quickly helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?" the guy asked. She gripped his arm tightly as the room spun around her. "Please take me to the hospital. My stomach hurts terribly," she pleaded. Then everything went dark as she fainted. Through the haze of semi-consciousness, distant screams about blood echoed in her ears. When Sophia regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital room. The sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the air as she lay alone in the quiet ward. A nurse tending to her bandages noticed her awakening. "You're awake," she said softly. Sophia's voice came out weak and fearful. "My baby... Is my baby alright?" "Your baby is fine," the nurse reassured her. "But you'll need to take special care. These first few months are particularly delicate in your condition." Relief washed over Sophia as grateful tears fell. "Thank you," she whispered, overwhelmed that her child was safe. Through the emotional turmoil, Sophia's first thought was to share the news with Lucas immediately. Wiping her tears, she reached for her phone and dialed his number. The phone rang several times before Lucas finally picked up. His voice was edged with impatience as he answered, "Not coming home tonight. Don't wait—" "Lucas, my hair's caught in this zipper," Emily's voice interrupted, floating through the line. "Could you give me a hand?" Sophia's knuckles went white around her phone. "Be right there," he said. The call ended before Sophia could form a response. Overnight, things between her and Lucas had reverted to how they were six months ago. Back then, he'd been all cold shoulders and sharp tones. Even in their most intimate moments, he treated her like just another need to be met. To him, she might as well have been a stranger—or worse, just a convenient body. So when he finally let his guard down, she'd been so grateful for the warmth that she fell harder than she ever meant to. She thought her years of longing had finally paid off. But reality slapped her senseless when Lucas chose Emily's safety over their own child's life. After being discharged from the hospital, Sophia caught a taxi home. Midway through the ride, her phone buzzed with a Twitter alert. It was a tweet from Emily: [You told me you'd hold my hand and never let go—not for the rest of our lives.] The attached photo showed Emily dressed like a princess, complete with a tiny crown, her hand locked tightly with a larger, elegant hand. Around the wrist was a bracelet made of prayer beads—the very one Sophia had prayed for in a church last year, when Lucas was burning up with fever. That day, he squeezed her hand and whispered a promise that he would never leave her side. Chapter 2 Ask Him For A Divorce The taxi stopped outside the Nightfall Estate, where Sophia paid the fare and got out of the vehicle. She was just heading inside when a truck carrying young cherry trees rumbled up the drive and stopped near the garden. Workers carefully unloaded the cherry trees and settled them into the prepared holes. Where a vibrant sea of red roses had bloomed just yesterday, now only upturned earth remained, with the plants piled carelessly to the side. A dull ache spread through Sophia's chest as she gazed at the rose petals strewn like crimson tears across the soil. The familiar purr of a luxury car engine approached from behind. Turning around, Sophia saw Lucas step out of the car. He stood tall and straight, radiating a natural air of calm elegance. "Honey..." Sophia began, but the words died on her lips as he leaned back into the car. With gentle care, he helped a woman step out—it was Emily, who looked radiant in an exquisite designer ensemble that made her complexion glow. Only when Emily was steady did Lucas's gaze finally meet Sophia's, those usually warm eyes now regarding her with detached indifference. "Did you need something?" he asked, his tone flat. The cold unfamiliarity in his look struck Sophia's heart like a physical blow. "Why are you tearing out the roses when they were growing so well?" she asked, desperate for his explanation. Those roses had been his special way of confessing his feelings to her. Lucas barely glanced at the destroyed garden. "Emily's not feeling well. She'll be staying with us for a bit." "What does that have to do with the roses?" she pressed. "She's allergic to the pollen," he said curtly, already turning to guide Emily inside. Sophia stood rooted to the spot, her heart breaking. Emily's delicate voice carried through the air. "Lucas, Sophia seems upset. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have complained about the roses." "She doesn't matter to me," Lucas reassured her. "But I worry she'll resent me. Really, I can manage with allergy medication," Emily offered, her voice dripping with false concern. "Medication always has side effects. Don't suggest things that worry me," he replied. Sophia stood motionless as she watched their figures grow smaller in the distance. A silent tear traced its way down her cheek while overwhelming sorrow washed over her. 'I don't matter to him... Yeah, right,' Sophia murmured with bitter irony, the truth of the words settling like a weight in her heart. He hadn't even asked about her absence last night, and now he had ordered her favorite roses to be torn out. The message was clear—she meant less to him than the slightest thought of Emily. For three years, she had devoted herself to him, offering unwavering love and comfort through difficult times. She had believed her constant warmth could thaw even the coldest heart, but Emily's reappearance had erased everything in an instant. She wondered what their intimacy these past six months had truly meant, and what role she had actually played in his life. A sudden twinge in her lower abdomen made her catch her breath. Pale and unsteady, she turned toward the villa. As Sophia stepped into the living room, she saw Emily nestled against Lucas on the sofa, watching with affectionate amusement as he peeled an orange for her. Lucas gently picked away every bit of white pith from the orange segments before arranging them on a plate for Emily. "For you," he said with a soft smile. "Enjoy, my little foodie." As Emily took the plate, she noticed Sophia entering the room. A triumphant smile graced her lips as she called out, "Sophia, would you like some? Lucas peeled these himself. Something you've never experienced, I'm sure." Sophia's gaze fell upon the perfectly prepared orange segments, and she felt a sudden sting behind her eyes. The painful truth was that in all their time together, Lucas had never once peeled an orange for her. She had always been the one serving him. The realization struck her with perfect clarity—Lucas knew well how to be thoughtful, but he simply reserved his kindness for Emily. Sophia felt her heart breaking into pieces as she finally understood how painful comparison could be. "She's perfectly capable of peeling her own fruit," Lucas said dismissively, barely glancing at Sophia. Then he noticed her pale complexion and added, "Are you alright? You look terribly pale." Sophia's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she debated telling Lucas her secret pregnancy. A fragile hope whispered within her—that this truth might finally soften his heart toward her. "I..." Her voice faltered, the words dying on her lips. "If you're ill, see a doctor. This pathetic act is getting tiresome," Lucas said, impatience flashing across his handsome features. He was annoyed by her wounded expression, which seemed to suggest she was the victim of some terrible injustice. Sophia swallowed her unspoken words, her gaze lingering on the man who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. "I'm fine," she murmured. "I'll just go to my room." As she turned toward the staircase, Lucas felt a surge of irritation. 'I must've been too lenient with her, and now she dared to show me attitude,' he thought, fuming. Sophia had only climbed a few steps when the housekeeper, Wendy, appeared descending the stairs with servants carrying boxes. The items looked familiar, but it was the sight of her stuffed doll in Wendy's arms that made Sophia realize everything they carried was hers. In a swift motion, she stepped forward and snatched the doll. Her voice turned icy as she asked, "Wendy, care to explain this?" "Mr. Westwood's orders," Wendy said quietly. "You're to move to the storage room downstairs." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, leaving her mind reeling. She turned to Lucas, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious." They'd already maintained separate bedrooms, but she never imagined that she'd be banished to a storage room instead of even being offered the guest suite after Emily's return. For a fleeting moment under her gaze, Lucas felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly hardened into resolve. "Emily needs the sunroom for her health," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your room gets the best light. It's better for her recovery." The absurdity of it all drew a bitter laugh from Sophia's lips. She thought his previous cruelty—shoving her while pregnant and replacing her roses with Emily's cherry trees—had been the worst it could get. But this new humiliation surpassed even that. All Lucas had done since Emily's return yesterday was talk about her. In just one day, she had turned Sophia's whole life upside down. Sophia expected to feel rage, but instead found only a hollow emptiness settling in her chest. 'Look at him, Sophia,' Sophia thought bitterly. 'This is the man you gave your heart and soul to. Was any of it worth it?' "If you're so worried about her comfort, why not just move her into your room? The master suite gets the best light anyway," Sophia shot back. Lucas responded sharply, "Sophia, you need to watch your tone." Emily's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I know you don't want me here, Sophia. I'll go. Please don't fight with Lucas over me." Sophia saw right through Emily's act. A humorless laugh escaped her as she spat, "You're not going anywhere. I am." Tightening her grip on the stuffed doll, she turned and headed for the door. "Don't you dare, Sophia." Lucas rose to his feet, his voice cutting through the room. "Walk out that door now, and don't expect to ever come back." Sophia's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "I'll make sure you receive the divorce papers," she said, her voice cold and steady. "See that you sign them." "You're asking me for a divorce?" Lucas's voice was low, thick with barely restrained fury. He added, his tone edged with contempt, "Have you forgotten who gave you this life, Sophia? The luxury, the status—all of it came from me. Without my name, you're just that wide-eyed girl fresh off that forgotten little town. You don't get to leave." Chapter 3 The Replaced Medical Result Sophia didn't need to look back to know the condescending smirk that was surely on Lucas's face. She knew he had always despised her. His proposal three years ago had been motivated only by a desire to fulfill the marriage agreement between their families and to exact revenge on Emily. She had been naive enough to believe his empty promises, offering him her genuine love when he saw her as nothing more than a pawn. To him, she would always be a leech, clinging to his wealth and name for survival. But now, she had reached her limit, and she no longer wanted him in her life. Sophia walked out without a backward glance. As she stepped through the gateway, the sound of shattering porcelain echoed behind her, but she no longer cared. Lucas stood amid the shattered remains, fingers pressed to his temples. His face was a mask of simmering anger. He dismissed the mention of divorce as just another one of her calculated moves, a transparent attempt to get his attention by pulling away. Emily watched him hesitantly. "Maybe I shouldn't be staying here, Lucas. Sophia seemed really upset." "It's nothing," Lucas replied evenly. Seeing how the mention of divorce had affected him, she suggested softly, "You could go after her. Women usually respond well to a little reassurance." "I don't have time for that," Lucas said, turning toward the staircase. With a business trip looming, his mind was elsewhere. 'Let her make a scene if she wants to,' he thought. 'She'll cool off and come crawling back. She always does.' ***** Sophia's home was a beautiful 3,200-square-foot apartment with an open-concept layout and sleek modern decor—all paid for with her own earnings. In her study, she printed the divorce papers and a letter resigning from her position. With a steady hand, she signed both, and then summoned a courier to deliver them directly to the Westwood Group. When she married Lucas three years ago, Sophia had joined his company, hoping to build a genuine connection with him. She started at the very bottom as an assistant and gradually earned her way up to department manager. She had wanted nothing more than to be close to him—in their home and at work. But in the end, her efforts were met with cold indifference. Gazing downward, Sophia softly cradled her stomach. "It's just us now, little one," she whispered. The courier arrived at Westwood headquarters while Lucas was away. His chief executive assistant, Kevin Chapman, received the delivery and signed. The moment Kevin saw the contents, he reached for the phone, dialing Lucas's number in haste. "Mr. Westwood, your wife has sent divorce documents." "Burn it all." On the other side of the ocean, Lucas loosened his tie as an unexpected wave of irritation came over him. "But Mrs. Westwood has even submitted her resignation letter..." Kevin replied, his tone hesitant. "She can't survive without this family." The blue flame from Lucas's lighter highlighted the grim set of his features. "Let her be. She'll come crawling back once reality sets in." Meanwhile, Sophia remained completely unaware of his words. Her morning had begun with a call from her mother-in-law, Helen Westwood. "Where are you? Return at once," Helen commanded in her typically imperious manner, leaving no room for discussion. Complying, Sophia drove back to the estate. No sooner had she stepped inside than a velvet box came hurling toward her head, which she narrowly avoided by stepping aside. Helen's shrill voice pierced the air. "How dare you avoid that? You've got some nerve." Sophia's gaze fell upon the velvet box at her feet, and suddenly, she understood why it seemed familiar. She remembered purchasing that exact box to store her pregnancy test results. On Lucas's birthday, she had intended to present it to him as a gift, but he had accidentally pushed her before she could give it to him, resulting in her hospitalization. Her heart leaped as she turned to face Helen's livid expression. 'Could she know about the pregnancy? But something about her reaction seems strange,' she wondered. For three years, Helen had made no secret of her disapproval of Sophia, someone raised in a small town. Yet every time Sophia visited the Westwood residence with Lucas, Helen would consistently nag Sophia about starting a family soon. If Helen knew Sophia was pregnant, she was supposed to be absolutely delighted instead of reacting like this. Helen clutched a medical report, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared down Sophia. "For three years, I've watched your marriage to Lucas, wondering why you never conceived. Now I understand—he married a barren woman. "If you hadn't left this at the hotel and Lucas's friend hadn't been kind enough to deliver it, I'd still be in the dark about your condition." Heart pounding with shock, Sophia ignored Helen's murderous gaze and snatched the document from her hand. The clinical report lay cold and pale in the morning light. There was her name, clearly printed, alongside the devastating diagnosis: "permanent infertility." 'Permanent infertility? But that's impossible. I'm pregnant. Someone must have switched my test results. But who would do such a thing?' Sophia wondered. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "This isn't my..." Emily, who had remained silent until now, suddenly interrupted, "Sophia, the Westwood lineage has been passed down through a single heir for ten generations. Are you trying to ensure Lucas dies without an heir? To extinguish the family line completely?" "How utterly heartless!" Helen exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Sophia as her anger reached its peak. "We've welcomed you with open arms since you married into this family. Yet you've been hiding this from us? To think you'd let our family line die out—it's truly despicable!" she added. Sophia didn't even attempt to explain herself. If they wanted to believe she was barren, so be it—it would only simplify the divorce proceedings. "I only received the results two days ago. I hadn't found the right moment to share the news," Sophia replied, her voice calm. "This wasn't about finding the right moment. You did this intentionally," Helen retorted, her face contorted with rage. "And you planned to give this to Lucas as a gift? What kind of twisted mind would conceive such a thing?" Sophia maintained her silence. Helen took a measured breath, forcing her anger down. "If you can't conceive naturally, I won't hold it against you. I've spoken with Emily, and she's agreed to donate her eggs so you and Lucas can pursue in vitro fertilization." Sophia stared in disbelief at the unexpected turn. "Could you repeat that?" She believed she had misheard because the suggestion was both preposterous and deeply offensive. "If you can't conceive, that's your problem. Emily is being extraordinarily generous by offering her eggs. The least you could do is show some appreciation instead of this ingratitude," Helen sneered. A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. "Perhaps you'd like to accept this generous offer yourself?" "How dare you speak to me like that!" Helen's eyes flashed with fury. "Sophia, you shouldn't speak to Mrs. Westwood that way. She was suggesting that for your sake," Emily said in a honeyed tone, reaching for the glass. As she moved, she made certain to display the prayer beads circling her delicate wrist. Sophia's breath caught—she would recognize the bracelet anywhere. That was the very ones she had sacrificed so much to obtain while praying for Lucas's recovery. It felt like a personal insult, seeing the bracelet that symbolized her love for Lucas now clasped around Emily's wrist. "For my sake?" Sophia repeated, the words tasting bitter as she caught the sly glint of satisfaction in Emily's eyes. It sent a sharp ache through her. She knew this game all too well. Emily had a gift for twisting people's vulnerabilities to her advantage, a lesson Sophia had learned the hard way three years ago. "I'm infertile. What possible use could I have for your eggs?" Sophia asked, her voice cold. "Do you really think I need a constant reminder of what I can't have?" Emily's smile vanished. For Helen's benefit, she bit her lip, her eyes instantly welling with feigned hurt. "Mrs. Westwood," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "I was only trying to help Sophia." Helen immediately comforted Emily by patting her hand. She then shot Sophia a disapproving look. "How can you be so selfish, Sophia? Are you really determined to let the Westwood family line die out?" Sophia gestured dismissively toward Emily. "Well, if she's so fertile, let her handle the baby-making." The thought of Emily getting to be a mother the easy way turned Sophia's stomach. Chapter 4 Take Back Her Things The color drained from both Helen's and Emily's faces. Helen stepped forward, jabbing a finger toward Sophia. "You think you're better than us? Then you give the Westwood family an heir. Don't blame anyone else for your own useless womb." Sophia bit back the sharp retort on her tongue. She was done with this family, done with Lucas. Arguing now would only prolong the inevitable. "Mrs. Westwood," she began, "I've decided—" Lucas's familiar, deep voice cut through the tension from the doorway. "Decided what?" Sophia turned to see Lucas standing there, his clothes rumpled from travel. His assistant, Kevin, hovered behind him with a suitcase in hand. The air in the room was thick with tension, so Kevin knew better than to stay. He simply left the suitcase by the door and made a quick exit. Loosening his tie, Lucas turned to Helen. "Mom, what brings you here?" "If I hadn't come, you'd have let our family name die out," Helen shot back. She then snatched the medical report from Sophia and flung it at Lucas's chest. "See for yourself," she said coldly, and with that, she swept out of the room. Lucas looked down at the document in his hands, and the words "permanent infertility" caused a faint twitch in his brow. His eyes, when they finally lifted to meet Sophia's, were devoid of warmth. "You'll go back to the hospital tomorrow for a full work-up. I will not have a wife who can't give me an heir." A hollow ache spread through Sophia's chest. Any foolish hope she'd been clinging to finally faded. Lucas had never defended her in three years of his mother's constant belittlement. And now, the ease with which he believed this lie revealed the chilling truth of his character. "I have the divorce papers right here," Sophia said, pulling the documents from her bag. She extended them toward him, her voice steady. "Just sign them, and you'll never have to see me again." Lucas didn't even look at the papers. In one swift motion, his hand closed around her throat, pulling her close. He leaned in until his face was mere inches from hers, and she could feel his warm breath and smell the familiar scent of his cologne. There was a time when this closeness would have made her heart flutter. Now, it only made her skin crawl. It was amazing how easy it was to walk away when all the love had drained away. "Sophia, have I been too soft with you?" Lucas's voice was thick with contempt. "Where exactly do you think you'll go without my protection?" She held his gaze without flinching. "That's really none of your concern anymore." "Still got that sharp tongue," he sneered. He released her with a dismissive shove, as if her defiance meant nothing. "Go make me dinner. I'm hungry." A wave of pain shot through Sophia's lower abdomen as she sank into the sofa, her skin turning clammy with an instant, cold sweat. Across the room, Emily slid her arm through Lucas's with practiced ease. "Don't let Sophia bother you," she murmured. "Her little scene was just a cry for your attention." Lucas pulled his tie free, his stern expression melting away as he focused on Emily. "How are you holding up?" he asked, his tone gentler. "I'm fine," she sighed, putting on a pitiful face. "It's just that the medicine is so awfully bitter." "It's bitter because it's strong. You need to keep taking it," he reminded her. "I picked up those candies you like. They're in my suitcase. Go get them yourself." "I know you always look out for me," Emily said, stretching up to press a light kiss to Lucas's cheek. "Consider that your reward." A look of quiet satisfaction crossed his features at the gesture. "I'm going up to shower," he said. "Go ahead," Emily said sweetly, fluttering a wave at him. She waited until Lucas's footsteps faded up the staircase before turning to the suitcase. They carried on as if Sophia weren't standing right there in the same room. Humming cheerfully, Emily unzipped the luggage. Alongside Lucas's neatly folded clothes sat a jar of shimmering candies and an elegant red velvet box that clearly held something valuable. Her eyes skipped over the candy, going straight to the velvet box. When she lifted the lid, a pink diamond necklace lay gleaming, its facets scattering rainbows in the light. "Oh, it's exquisite. I love it," she whispered, her eyes widening. "So the candy was just a decoy. This necklace is what he really wanted me to find." Draping the necklace against her collarbone, Emily turned to face Sophia, who had risen from the sofa. "Well, Sophia? Don't you think it suits me perfectly?" The pink diamond necklace around Emily's neck struck Sophia as oddly familiar. It came to her a moment later—she had coveted it last month while flipping through a magazine. Lucas had seen her fascination and promised to get it for her. The catch was its exclusivity—a single piece, sourced from Melaria, the country where Lucas had been attending to business. "That was for me," Sophia said, her voice calm. The man was disposable, but her possessions were not. She would reclaim what was rightfully hers. With a swift motion, Emily clasped the necklace. "Finders keepers," she said with a mocking grin. Sophia approached for a closer look. Though the necklace was more exquisite than its photograph, any desire for it had vanished. A wary look crossed Emily's face. "What is this about?" "To take what belongs to me, of course," Sophia said, stepping close and extending her hand. "It's time you returned it." Emily's hands instinctively flew to the diamond necklace at her throat. "Lucas will never stand for this, Sophia. You know what I mean to him." Sophia almost laughed. She knew well that Emily held a special place in Lucas's heart. But that was irrelevant. She was only claiming what was hers. "Give the bracelet back to me," Sophia said coldly. It was a token earned through true devotion, and she wouldn't let its significance be tarnished. Realizing Sophia only wanted the simple bracelet, Emily smiled condescendingly. 'Some shortsighted people have no taste,' she thought. Emily twisted the bracelet around her wrist. "I heard you went to Grace Abbey to beg for this good-luck charm," she said. "You are so hung up on him, aren't you?" The hypocrisy of her words was almost laughable. "Give it back," Sophia said, her voice like ice. Emily's eyes flickered to a point behind Sophia, and a sly smile touched her lips. She lowered her voice. "If you want it so badly, why don't you come and take it?" Sophia didn't stop to think. She grabbed Emily's wrist and tugged the bracelet free. The moment it was off, Emily's demeanor shifted completely. "Sophia, what are you doing?" she cried out, her voice suddenly loud and panicked. "Lucas gave this to me." Before Sophia could even turn around, a powerful hand seized her by the collar and hauled her backwards. The fabric dug sharply into her throat, stealing her breath. Stumbling to regain her footing, Sophia looked up to see Lucas. He was already cradling Emily. "Emily, are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern. Emily buried her face in his chest. "I'm fine," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Please, don't be angry with Sophia. She didn't mean it." Lucas's jaw tightened, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. He took a deep breath and fixed Sophia with an icy stare. "Apologize to Emily." Chapter 5 She Wants A Clean Break A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. She had fooled herself into thinking she was numb to Lucas's coldness. But his command still sent a fresh, sharp pain through her chest. She knew there was no point arguing with a man who had already chosen the other woman's side. "I won't apologize," Sophia said, her fist closing tightly around the bracelet. "What for?" Emily looked up at Lucas with well-practiced vulnerability. "I'm causing trouble here, Lucas. I should go." Lucas caught her wrist before she could take a second step. "You're staying right here." His attention snapped back to Sophia, his expression darkening. "Now, Sophia, apologize to Emily." The room blurred as tears filled Sophia's eyes, twisting his familiar face into a stranger's. She lifted the simple bracelet between them. "This is my stuff in the first place. Since when is taking back what was stolen a crime?" "Your stuff? Since when do you have anything of your own?" Lucas's lips curled in a sneer. "I've paid for every stitch of clothing on your back." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, forcing a bitter laugh from her lips. He knew perfectly well she earned her own living, yet he took every opportunity to demean her. "This bracelet came from Grace Abbey," she countered, her voice trembling. "You didn't pay a cent for it." Lucas's eyes dropped to the simple beads in her palm. "You think I care about some cheap bracelet?" he scoffed. Hot tears streamed down Sophia's face without warning. Wiping them away, Sophia made a silent vow—this would be the last time he reduced her to this. "Fine!" With one sharp motion, she snapped the bracelet's cord, sending beads skittering across the floor. Lucas watched the scattered beads come to rest, his hand curling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. He knew how much that bracelet meant to her, but the moment Emily wanted it, he didn't hesitate to take it off and hand it over. Lucas's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "Sophia!" "I want a divorce," Sophia said, her voice eerily calm. As she opened her hand, the last bead from the bracelet clattered onto the floor between them. "Let's just end this." The sound was small, but in the tense silence, it was deafening, echoing in Lucas's mind. He let out a short laugh, his gaze locked on her. "You think a threat will work? You should know better than that by now." 'This has to be a ploy,' he thought to himself. 'She loves me too much to go through with it. She has accepted her role as Emily's replacement from the beginning and has never once tried to leave. 'She would never have the strength to walk away from me.' "Go make us something to eat, and we can forget this ever happened." Lucas was certain he had thrown Sophia a lifeline. He waited, fully expecting her to be overcome with relief and scurry off to the kitchen. He'd been away on business, and days of unfamiliar rich food had left his stomach unsettled. What he craved was Sophia's cooking—simple, hearty food that tasted like home. It was a flavor he couldn't find anywhere else. "You can go eat your ass," Sophia shot back. She picked up her bag, her lips twisting into a scornful smile, and walked out without a backward glance. That smile grated on Lucas's nerves more than the insult itself. In his frustration, his eyes fell on the string of prayer beads lying scattered on the floor, and he gave them an impatient kick. 'So that's her game. She wants to challenge me? I'd like to see just how long her resolve will hold,' he thought, fuming. ***** Sophia sped away from Nightfall Estate, her phone buzzing relentlessly on the passenger seat. Lucas's name flashed across the screen again and again until she finally grabbed it and blocked his number for good. When she looked up at the road, she blinked, her vision blurring for a moment. She braced for the familiar sting of tears, but when her fingers touched her skin, it was dry. It was only then that she noticed the soft patter against the windshield. A fine drizzle had begun to fall, and a quiet melancholy settled over her, as gray as the sky. Up ahead, the flickering hazard lights of a sleek black car broke the rhythm of the rain. A man in a soaked suit, looking to be in his forties, stood beside it, waving frantically at passing traffic. Almost without conscious thought, Sophia found herself flipping on her turn signal and pulling over. She rolled down her window as the man rushed over. "Everything okay?" she asked. "It's my boss," the man said, his voice tight with panic. "He's having a heart attack. The ambulance is stuck in a multi-car accident. Please, can you take us to the hospital?" Sophia hesitated. Letting two strange men into her car, especially in this weather, felt dangerous. Every cautionary tale she'd ever heard flashed through her mind. Seeing her hesitation, the man added urgently, "I promise we're not dangerous. My boss is—" But Sophia was already moving, cutting the engine and stepping out into the downpour. "Just get him to my car, now," she called out as she rushed toward their vehicle. As she got closer, she recognized the distinctive emblem of the black Maybach. Working together, they carefully transferred the elderly man from the luxury sedan into Sophia's more modest car. The old man's lips were tinged with blue, and each ragged breath seemed like a struggle, clear signs of his critical condition. Sliding behind the wheel, Sophia started the car and pulled back onto the road, pushing through the veils of rain. In the backseat, the middle-aged man was a whirlwind of activity on his phone, coordinating with a hospital and alerting the family. Beyond the windows, the storm seemed to intensify, as if trying to match the urgency inside the car. After ensuring everything was in place, the man turned to Sophia with heartfelt appreciation. "You're the only one who stopped in this downpour. We can't thank you enough." A warm smile touched Sophia's lips. "Some things are just meant to be." ***** Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital entrance where medical staff stood ready. The team swiftly transferred the elderly man to a stretcher and hurried him inside for emergency care. Just as Sophia was about to drive away, she spotted a lone leather shoe in the backseat—the one the elderly man had been wearing. After a moment's hesitation, she parked properly and carried the shoe to the reception desk, logging it as a lost item. Sophia was just turning to leave when a group emerged from the hospital's main entrance. At the front of the group was a man whose height and posture commanded attention. He turned his sharp gaze on her, and the intensity in his eyes was so commanding that it felt like a physical pressure. 'That frown means trouble,' Sophia thought. She averted her gaze and continued walking, brushing past the group without a second look. It wasn't until she was back in the driver's seat that she felt the chill of her wet clothes clinging to her skin. As she dried her hair with a towel from the backseat, a notification popped up on her phone while she was opening the navigation app. It was a post from Emily: [Nothing says 'forever' like a soft-boiled egg made with love! My ultimate comfort food.] The post featured two photos—one showed a soft-boiled egg with a ketchup heart, and the other captured a tall man's back as he stood at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Sophia couldn't help but compare. When she was with Lucas, he had acted like even pouring her a glass of water was a significant concession. Cooking a meal was utterly out of the question. The fact that he was now cooking for Emily spoke volumes about where his true affections lay. She closed the page and entered her apartment address into the navigation system before driving out of the parking lot. As she watched the heavy rain outside, a single decisive thought crystallized in her mind—this marriage was over. Chapter 6 Return The Trash To The Dumpster That evening, a text came through from Annabelle Quinn, Sophia's best friend since college, insisting they go out to a lounge. The old Sophia would have declined immediately, conditioned to obey Lucas's rule about her not going out. But now that Sophia was divorcing him, his opinions held no weight. ***** The moment Sophia stepped out of the car, she saw Annabelle waiting by the entrance. "Hope you haven't been waiting long," she said as she approached. "Just got here," Annabelle grinned, looping her arm through Sophia's. "So, what's the special occasion? Did you finally get a night off from your sweetheart?" Sophia struggled to find the words, but she couldn't keep it from her best friend. "I'm getting a divorce," she finally said. "Let me guess," Annabelle said, not one to mince words in front of her best friend. "This is about Emily being back, isn't it?" "It's not just that," Sophia admitted, her voice quiet. It just took seeing the difference for herself to truly see how little her three years of effort had meant. Annabelle threw a supportive arm around Sophia's shoulders. "You should have woken up to this a long time ago." For three years, she had watched Sophia lose herself in a hollow relationship, and it killed Annabelle to see her friend throw everything away for a man who never appreciated her. "Better late than never," Sophia offered with a weak smile. "Damn right it is," Annabelle declared. "Tonight, I'm getting us the best male models in town. You deserve some real attention." They ascended into the pulsating heart of the club, pushing through the glittering crowd toward the exclusive booth Annabelle had booked. As they moved past the entrance to a private booth, a burst of laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway. Amid the noise, Sophia's own name caught her sharp ear. "Got to hand it to Lucas. The minute Emily was back, he moved her right in. Word is, he showed Sophia the door." "Well, she had it coming. Play the simp, and you lose it all. Seriously though, that night in the booth with all the blood? I truly thought a tragedy had occurred, but it was probably just her period." "You're thinking about that? Man, have you had a thing for Sophia all along?" "Who'd pine after some nobody from a backwater? Only Lucas, with his unique preferences, would stick around for three years." "Guess the novelty wore off. Time for a change." Standing in the hallway, Sophia felt a cold stillness settle behind her eyes. The voices clicked into place—Lucas's oldest friends. They had been there that night, spectators to her most shameful moment. Annabelle's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind." But as she moved toward the door, Sophia stopped her with a gentle hand. "This is my battle to fight," Sophia said firmly. With that, Sophia pushed the door open and swept into the room. She settled gracefully onto the sofa, joining their conversation with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you're talking about unique preferences, I top him," she began, her voice deceptively light, "I recycled what Emily threw away. But it looks like I did everyone a favor by returning the trash to the dumpster where it belongs." A stunned silence fell over the room. Every face on the circular sofa stared at her in horrified fascination. Unbeknownst to Sophia, two figures had entered the room behind her during her speech. The guests' eyes darted nervously between Sophia and the newcomers, the air thickening with tension. There stood Lucas and Emily, their expressions dark as storm clouds. Their presence made Sophia turn. Her eyes instantly met the cold, dark stare of Lucas. But she didn't back down. A defiant shrug lifted her shoulders. "Look what the cat dragged in. My trash husband." Emily's eyes instantly glistened with tears. "Sophia, ignore them," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "It's all lies. Lucas and I are just friends." As if to prove her point, she clutched Lucas's arm. "Tell her, Lucas. Make her understand there's nothing going on between us." Sophia's gaze dropped to the hand clinging to Lucas's arm, and a faint, derisive smile touched her mouth. 'Just friends? Did she really expect anyone to believe that?' she thought bitterly. Lucas detached himself from Emily's grip and closed the distance between him and Sophia. The motion broke the tension, stirring his friends into action. "Hey, Lucas, take it easy," one of them said, stepping forward. "She's just reacting to our stupid jokes." "Come on, Sophia, just say you're sorry to Lucas," another one urged. "You know he'll forgive you." The suggestion made Sophia want to laugh bitterly. 'Is this really how they see me? As some lovesick fool who'd come crawling back at the first sign of forgiveness?' she thought. It explained everything—why, for three years, they had shown her phony respect as Lucas's wife while mocking her devotion in private. She had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn't met Lucas seven years ago, if that fateful incident hadn't tied her to him, she would have moved on with her life long ago. "Are you quite done?" Lucas's voice cut through her thoughts as he reached for her arm. She shifted her weight gracefully, letting his hand close on empty air. The rejected gesture hung between them for a beat too long before he withdrew, his features tightening with displeasure. Turning to Emily, who was now dabbing at her eyes, Sophia arched a brow. "There's no need for the waterworks. You're making it look like I'm the one being cruel here." "Sophia, I've treated you like my elder sister. I—" Emily began, trying to defend herself. "Don't," Sophia interrupted, her voice cool. "We arrived minutes apart, and you were first. Let's skip the emotional act." Emily's face turned from pale to deep red as she clenched her jaw in fury. 'Since when has Sophia found this kind of nerve? She used to shrink into silence whenever Lucas was near,' she thought. Despite her three-year absence from the city, Emily had ensured she received every scrap of information about Sophia's life. She knew all about Sophia's pathetic attempts to please Lucas, and she knew exactly how little he cared for his wife. She even knew they kept separate bedrooms, and that on the occasional night Lucas spent with Sophia, he always sent her back to her own room afterward. She knew that to Lucas, Sophia was just a body—convenient, disposable, and utterly unimportant. With a dark expression, Lucas grabbed Sophia's wrist and began pulling her toward the exit. Sophia's answer was a sharp, stinging slap across his cheek. The sound cracked through the air, and a dead silence fell over the room. All eyes were fixed on Sophia in pure shock. Everyone was wondering if she had lost her mind to dare something like that. Lucas slowly worked his jaw, the look in his eyes so dark that it promised retribution. When Sophia resisted, Lucas didn't hesitate. He swept her up onto his shoulder and carried her out of the room. The sight made Emily's heart clench. She'd never seen Lucas be so patient with anyone. Before she knew it, her hand was on his arm. "Lucas..." He didn't turn his head, but some of the tension left his expression. "I'm taking her home," he said firmly. "The driver will return for you when you're ready." Emily could only watch as Lucas walked away with Sophia. She had no right to stop him, but it stung—this was the first time he'd ever left her for another woman, especially one who meant nothing. Her hands tightened at her sides. 'I gave you a chance to walk away quietly, Sophia. You brought this on yourself,' she thought. Sophia's protests echoed down the hallway as she struggled against Lucas's hold. Unsure what was happening between the couple, Annabelle turned away, pretending she hadn't noticed them. Lucas carried Sophia into the elevator and stepped out briskly when it reached the basement level. As the car door opened, Lucas tossed Sophia into the back seat. Struggling upright, she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea from the prolonged time she'd spent upside down. She opened her mouth to curse, but the words died on her lips as the tinted window of a nearby Maybach began to descend. In the shadowy interior, the man's profile was sharp and forbidding. His lips were set in a firm line, and he sat with the imposing stillness of an iceberg, his presence pushing others away. Sensing her gaze, he glanced over, and their eyes locked. Without a word, Sophia averted her gaze and hid her face behind a veil of tangled hair. Chapter 7 Not Her Home Anymore Lucas's black Bentley pulled out of the underground parking garage, but Sophia was still lost in thought about those intense eyes. There was something familiar about them, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen them before. Lucas's voice broke the silence. "Did you follow me here? What are you so concerned about?" "What?" Sophia asked, snapping back to reality. Keeping his eyes on the road, Lucas tried to explain. "You know how my friends are—they never think before they speak. Don't take their words seriously. There's nothing going on between Emily and me." 'If there's really nothing between them, why was he being so protective? He only rushed me out because he was worried I might cause a scene and embarrass Emily,' Sophia thought. "Sure," Sophia said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You and Emily are completely innocent." "I'm trying to explain myself here," Lucas said, his patience wearing thin. "Do you have to be so sarcastic?" Her ungrateful attitude was beginning to irritate him. He remembered how she used to soften at the slightest reassurance. Now, it seemed her patience had worn thin. "Understood," Sophia said, her tone flat. "Is that all?" "I've been clear from the beginning—you are my wife, and that won't change. But if you want this marriage to work, you need to drop your little tricks. I won't play these games." Sophia stayed quiet, struck by his assumption that her mention of divorce was merely a plea for attention. Her silence tightened the air between them. "Don't become someone I resent, Sophia," he said with a frown, his voice low. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips as she turned toward the window, shutting him out completely. Sensing he had pushed too far, Lucas eased his tone. "I had your things moved back to our room. If you want to stay with me, just say so. There's no need for all this." Sophia was left speechless. ***** As the car came to a stop in the courtyard of Nightfall Estate, Sophia stepped out. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the cherry blossom grove in the garden. The sight sent a sharp pang through her chest. She forced her gaze away and continued into the villa. Inside, the decor had been completely redone. The new style, with its unmistakable resemblance to the Evans residence, clearly revealed who had overseen the renovations. She moved through rooms that felt entirely alien to her now, but she kept her thoughts to herself since this was no longer her home. Wendy looked surprised when she saw Sophia. "Mrs. Westwood, you've returned. Have you had your supper?" Sinking into the plush pink sofa, Sophia answered quietly, "Yes, thank you." Wendy offered a tight smile before retreating to her quarters to make a hurried phone call to Helen, reporting the unexpected arrival. Helen had never approved of Sophia, whom she saw as a plain nobody not good enough for her son. The infertility diagnosis hardened Helen's resolve to rush the divorce so Lucas could marry someone worthy of giving her grandchildren. The news of Sophia's sudden return after her dramatic departure kept Helen tossing and turning all night. Lucas had been certain Sophia would confront him about the complete makeover of their home. He stood ready to smooth things over, but she walked through the rooms without comment, her silence leaving him more unsettled than any argument would have. "If the decor isn't to your taste..." Lucas moved to sit beside her, his arms beginning to encircle her. Sophia reached for a throw pillow, tucking it between them as she shifted away from his embrace. The gentle rejection stung, though Lucas reassured himself that this was the same woman who had always adored him. "It's true. I prefer my original choices," she said calmly. "Can you have everything returned to how it was?" The warm, elegant furnishings had vanished, replaced by the overwhelming pinks that Emily favored—a transformation that had turned their home into something resembling a kitschy boutique hotel. Lucas shifted uncomfortably. "Let's not make a big deal out of it. You'll get used to the way things are around here." A faint, knowing smile curved on Sophia's lips as she met his gaze. That smile never failed to get under his skin. "Try to see it from her perspective, Sophia," he said, his voice tightening. "After everything she's been through these past three years, all Emily wants is to feel like she belongs." A wave of exhaustion washed over her. It was like talking to a brick wall. "I know," she said flatly. "You have your entire family backing you up," Lucas shot back, his patience clearly wearing thin. "But Emily? She has nobody else. Is it really so hard for you to be a little more compassionate?" "Funny," Sophia replied, her tone icy. "I was under the impression my adoptive parents were still very much alive." Besides, the Evans family had never once ceased to think about Emily throughout those three years. They made trip after trip to Felarica to celebrate Emily's birthdays and attend her parties. They even missed Sophia's wedding to Lucas because of her. A single social media post from Emily, complaining of her loneliness in Felarica, was all it took for them to drop everything and fly to her side. "Now that you've made it out of that dead-end town, you should be the last person to let Emily sink into it," he shot back. As Sophia looked at him, the last glimmer of hope in her eyes vanished. She knew well enough to stop mentioning divorce. To Lucas, it was just another act—proof that she was the same desperate woman the world thought her to be. If she couldn't get through to Lucas, she was going to find another path. Now, with her infertility diagnosis, she knew Helen would be far more impatient to act on this news. Sophia retreated to the master bedroom. Her possessions had claimed their space, with her clothes occupying half of the vast closet. A sense of normalcy had finally settled between her and Lucas, the kind that belongs to a husband and wife. But it was a fragile peace, already beginning to fray. Lucas was still in the living room when Emily returned. The air around her carried the sharp tang of liquor. Her face was deeply flushed, and she swayed slightly as she walked. He was at her side in an instant, his hand gently steadying her. "You've had far too much to drink," he murmured, his brow furrowed with worry. "This isn't good for you. I don't want to see you like this again." Emily turned into him, her arms finding their way around his neck. "I couldn't help it," she whispered, her voice thick with drink and emotion. "It's the only thing that dulls the ache." Sensing her legs might give way, he simply gathered her into his arms. "Wendy," he said to the housekeeper who had appeared, heading for the stairs. "Would you bring up some electrolyte water for Emily?" "Understood," Wendy replied. Playing the part of the drunken mess, Emily clung to Lucas and sobbed into his chest. "I've always regretted it," she cried. "Letting my pride push you away was the biggest mistake of my life." A long-buried tenderness tugged at Lucas's heart. "Let's try again, Lucas. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice," she whispered, tilting her face up to his. Just as their lips were about to meet, the master bedroom door swung open, and the sudden movement startled the couple in the hallway. Sophia stood in the doorway in her pajamas, watching them with a completely expressionless face. Lucas instantly snapped back to reality, and a rare look of panic flashed across his handsome face. "Sophie, Emily is drunk," he said quickly. "I'm just taking her back to her room." Still draped around him, Emily met Sophia's eyes over Lucas's shoulder. The tears were gone, replaced by a cool, triumphant smirk that held no trace of intoxication. Sophia's mouth curved into a humorless smile as she replied, "Yes, and you're drunk too." Without another word, she stepped back and slammed the door, the turn of the lock echoing decisively behind her. The idea of sleeping next to Lucas made her blood boil. She honestly didn't trust herself to lie beside him all night without her rage getting the better of her. Chapter 8 Divorce Settlement The next morning, as Sophia left her room, the guest room door across the hall opened at the exact same time. Lucas was stepping out, finishing with his tie. He glanced up and went completely still, finding Sophia already watching him from their bedroom doorway. Surprise flashed across his face, and he started with an explanation. "She was a mess last night," he said, his voice low. "I couldn't just leave her." Sophia's eyes dropped to the bright red smudge on his collar. Her eyes were filled with silent scorn as she thought about how filthy it was. She said with icy calm, "Relax, I know perfectly well that nothing would ever happen between you two, even when you don't have a stitch of clothing on." Her words cut off whatever excuse Lucas was about to offer. Anger darkened his features. "Think what you want," he snapped. "My feelings for her are purely brotherly." Sophia's eyes fell to the lipstick stain on his collar again. "So, how does it feel to be so close to your 'sister'?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Following her line of sight, Lucas saw the evidence, and a shadow of guilt crossed his face. "It was an accident," he insisted, his voice tight. "Don't make it sound so sordid." "So filthy," she murmured, shaking her head. As he drew a sharp breath to retaliate, she added with a cold smile, "I mean your shirt." He stared at her, his expression turning to stone. She merely offered a careless shrug and walked away, leaving him fuming in the hallway. Downstairs, Sophia was halfway through her breakfast when her phone vibrated on the table. A quick glance at the screen confirmed it was Helen calling. Just then, Wendy appeared with two additional breakfast plates. Sophia swiped to answer the call, a deliberate smile directed at Wendy. "You're calling so early, Mrs. Westwood." The pointed smile made Wendy's blood run cold, and at the mention of Mrs. Westwood, she was reminded of betraying Sophia by reporting to Helen last night. Stricken with guilt, she almost fumbled the tray. She dropped the plates onto the table and hastily retreated to the safety of the kitchen. A faint, cold smile touched Sophia's lips as Helen's venomous voice filled her ear. "Utterly devoid of manners," Helen sneered. "What else can you expect from someone with such a common background?" Sophia's eyes turned to ice. "Trace any lineage back three generations, Mrs. Westwood, and you'll find humble roots. It's distasteful to scorn your own origins." Helen found herself at a loss for words. Though Lucas's parents both had city roots, his grandparents' generation had all struggled in a backwater. Helen's parents had even lived in a cowshed. So in that regard, Helen was no better than Sophia. "That sharp tongue of yours is exactly why people can't stand you," Helen shot back. Sophia rolled her eyes in contempt. Biting back her anger, Helen forced a calmer tone. "We need to meet. There's a document for you to sign." "What kind of document?" "It'll be clear when you get here." Letting the matter drop, Sophia hung up. As she did, she saw Lucas descending the staircase. He had showered and changed, his hair perfectly styled like a model from the pages of a magazine. She had to admit, he was pleasing to look at. 'With those looks, he certainly has the assets for a career as a gigolo,' Sophia thought wryly. A smug feeling warmed Lucas as her eyes stayed on him. He drew out the chair next to hers and sat down. "Paliston Fashion Week is just around the corner," he offered. "It'll be a good chance for us to get away." In three years of marriage, it was the first time he had ever proposed such a thing. Sophia acknowledged him with a quiet hum, but she felt no spark of happiness or expectation. She saw the offer for what it was—a peace offering, born of the guilt he carried after his betrayal. Her ride showed up shortly after breakfast. Picking up her bag, Sophia walked out the door.
Chapter 1 His First Love Returned Sophia Evans could feel her world beginning to crack the moment she heard the news—the woman her husband, Lucas Westwood, had never gotten over was back. When Sophia arrived at the hotel's VIP suite with a gift, she found Lucas's first love—Emily Evans—being humiliated by his childhood friends. "Lick the wine off my shoe, Emily. I'll give you thirty thousand dollars," one of them said. Emily was forced to kneel on the floor, tears in her defiant eyes as she stared shamefully at Lucas. Lucas watched with a dark expression, saying nothing as he held his temper in check. Sophia halted mid-step, struck by the painful familiarity of the scene. Three years ago, when she had first been welcomed into the Evans family, these same privileged young men had tormented her in exactly the same way to gain Emily's favor. But back then, Lucas hadn't worn this expression of utter heartbreak. "There you are," Lucas said as soon as he spotted Sophia, his arm sliding around her waist in a show of intimacy. Only Sophia could feel the desperate pressure of his grip—a silent testament to the pain he was trying to conceal. Lucas's childhood friends had reserved the entire venue for his birthday celebration. But Sophia had never expected Emily to show up here. Everyone knew Lucas had married Sophia just to spite Emily. Three years ago, Emily's identity as a fake heiress was exposed. She broke up with Lucas then and there and left the Evans family behind. Lucas pursued her to the airport, boarded her departing flight, and forced the plane that had already taken off to turn back. Right there on that plane, he proposed to Emily. To his complete surprise, Emily refused without hesitation, declaring that the arranged marriage should be honored by the Evans family's true heiress. Humiliated and acting out of spite, Lucas married Sophia instead. For three years, Sophia had lived as Emily's stand-in. Everyone whispered that if Emily ever returned, Lucas would discard Sophia without a second thought. Sophia had once believed that too, but something had shifted in these past six months—Lucas seemed to be genuinely falling for her. He made grand declarations of love in the press, showered her with luxury homes and cars, and even replaced the cherry tree he'd planted for Emily with a garden full of red roses. In their most tender moments, he'd whisper against her ear, "Let's have a baby, Sophie. I hope they have your smile." Sophia's hand drifted absently to her stomach as she clutched the gift box a little tighter. Inside was a positive pregnancy test—meant to be Lucas's birthday surprise. But now, the timing of the gift felt all wrong. "You still think you're the Evans family princess, Emily? Lucas only has eyes for Sophia now. Why not be with me? A pretty thing like you deserves to be treated right," one of Lucas's friends, Ryan Shaw, sneered. He dragged Emily onto his lap, his hands already roaming over her. "Get your hands off me!" Emily cried, fighting against Ryan's grip as humiliation burned through her. Her resistance only fueled Ryan's excitement. In one swift motion, he shoved her down onto the couch, his powerful body trapping hers. Horrified that Ryan would assault Emily right in front of Lucas, Sophia jumped up to stop him, only to be shoved aside as Lucas already surged into action. As she stumbled, her hands instinctively reached for Lucas's arm, but he brutally shook her off. She hit the floor hard, a jolt of sharp pain shooting from her tailbone straight to her womb. Through the pain-induced haze, she saw Lucas grab Ryan by the collar, drag him off Emily, and pummel his face with brutal, unforgiving fists. "You've overstepped, Ryan. Emily is mine. Even if I discard her, she'll never be yours to touch," Lucas snapped. His words hung in the air, and the entire room fell silent as if frozen in time. Sophia stared at Lucas in disbelief, wondering where she stood in his life now that he had openly claimed Emily as his woman. All eyes in the room were drawn to the scene. Some watched with malicious delight, while others were simply captivated by the unfolding drama. Doubled over in pain, Sophia felt a warm wetness spreading beneath her. Her face paled as a cold dread gripped her heart. "Honey, my stomach hurts," she turned to Lucas instinctively. "Please, take me to the hospital." Without even glancing her way, Lucas removed his jacket and gently placed it around Emily's shoulders. Nestling into his embrace, Emily whispered, her voice trembling, "Lucas, I'm scared. Please take me away from here." "Don't worry," he murmured, holding her close. "I won't let anyone hurt you." Sweeping Emily into his arms, Lucas carried her out of the room, completely ignoring Sophia's pain-racked form shuddering on the floor. Perched comfortably on his shoulder, Emily gazed down at Sophia's crumpled form on the floor, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. The spectators murmured among themselves, still savoring the drama they'd just witnessed. "Emily's definitely the one for Lucas. He hasn't taken his eyes off her all night." "The way Lucas looks at her... I thought it was hatred, but it's clearly something else entirely." "Who could resist someone like her? I certainly wouldn't be able to stay angry." "Poor Sophia. She was just a side character in their love story." At the mention of Sophia's name, the crowd remembered her presence simultaneously, their attention shifting to where she sat. Sophia was in terrible pain and covered in a cold sweat until someone finally noticed her condition and quickly helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?" the guy asked. She gripped his arm tightly as the room spun around her. "Please take me to the hospital. My stomach hurts terribly," she pleaded. Then everything went dark as she fainted. Through the haze of semi-consciousness, distant screams about blood echoed in her ears. When Sophia regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital room. The sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the air as she lay alone in the quiet ward. A nurse tending to her bandages noticed her awakening. "You're awake," she said softly. Sophia's voice came out weak and fearful. "My baby... Is my baby alright?" "Your baby is fine," the nurse reassured her. "But you'll need to take special care. These first few months are particularly delicate in your condition." Relief washed over Sophia as grateful tears fell. "Thank you," she whispered, overwhelmed that her child was safe. Through the emotional turmoil, Sophia's first thought was to share the news with Lucas immediately. Wiping her tears, she reached for her phone and dialed his number. The phone rang several times before Lucas finally picked up. His voice was edged with impatience as he answered, "Not coming home tonight. Don't wait—" "Lucas, my hair's caught in this zipper," Emily's voice interrupted, floating through the line. "Could you give me a hand?" Sophia's knuckles went white around her phone. "Be right there," he said. The call ended before Sophia could form a response. Overnight, things between her and Lucas had reverted to how they were six months ago. Back then, he'd been all cold shoulders and sharp tones. Even in their most intimate moments, he treated her like just another need to be met. To him, she might as well have been a stranger—or worse, just a convenient body. So when he finally let his guard down, she'd been so grateful for the warmth that she fell harder than she ever meant to. She thought her years of longing had finally paid off. But reality slapped her senseless when Lucas chose Emily's safety over their own child's life. After being discharged from the hospital, Sophia caught a taxi home. Midway through the ride, her phone buzzed with a Twitter alert. It was a tweet from Emily: [You told me you'd hold my hand and never let go—not for the rest of our lives.] The attached photo showed Emily dressed like a princess, complete with a tiny crown, her hand locked tightly with a larger, elegant hand. Around the wrist was a bracelet made of prayer beads—the very one Sophia had prayed for in a church last year, when Lucas was burning up with fever. That day, he squeezed her hand and whispered a promise that he would never leave her side. Chapter 2 Ask Him For A Divorce The taxi stopped outside the Nightfall Estate, where Sophia paid the fare and got out of the vehicle. She was just heading inside when a truck carrying young cherry trees rumbled up the drive and stopped near the garden. Workers carefully unloaded the cherry trees and settled them into the prepared holes. Where a vibrant sea of red roses had bloomed just yesterday, now only upturned earth remained, with the plants piled carelessly to the side. A dull ache spread through Sophia's chest as she gazed at the rose petals strewn like crimson tears across the soil. The familiar purr of a luxury car engine approached from behind. Turning around, Sophia saw Lucas step out of the car. He stood tall and straight, radiating a natural air of calm elegance. "Honey..." Sophia began, but the words died on her lips as he leaned back into the car. With gentle care, he helped a woman step out—it was Emily, who looked radiant in an exquisite designer ensemble that made her complexion glow. Only when Emily was steady did Lucas's gaze finally meet Sophia's, those usually warm eyes now regarding her with detached indifference. "Did you need something?" he asked, his tone flat. The cold unfamiliarity in his look struck Sophia's heart like a physical blow. "Why are you tearing out the roses when they were growing so well?" she asked, desperate for his explanation. Those roses had been his special way of confessing his feelings to her. Lucas barely glanced at the destroyed garden. "Emily's not feeling well. She'll be staying with us for a bit." "What does that have to do with the roses?" she pressed. "She's allergic to the pollen," he said curtly, already turning to guide Emily inside. Sophia stood rooted to the spot, her heart breaking. Emily's delicate voice carried through the air. "Lucas, Sophia seems upset. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have complained about the roses." "She doesn't matter to me," Lucas reassured her. "But I worry she'll resent me. Really, I can manage with allergy medication," Emily offered, her voice dripping with false concern. "Medication always has side effects. Don't suggest things that worry me," he replied. Sophia stood motionless as she watched their figures grow smaller in the distance. A silent tear traced its way down her cheek while overwhelming sorrow washed over her. 'I don't matter to him... Yeah, right,' Sophia murmured with bitter irony, the truth of the words settling like a weight in her heart. He hadn't even asked about her absence last night, and now he had ordered her favorite roses to be torn out. The message was clear—she meant less to him than the slightest thought of Emily. For three years, she had devoted herself to him, offering unwavering love and comfort through difficult times. She had believed her constant warmth could thaw even the coldest heart, but Emily's reappearance had erased everything in an instant. She wondered what their intimacy these past six months had truly meant, and what role she had actually played in his life. A sudden twinge in her lower abdomen made her catch her breath. Pale and unsteady, she turned toward the villa. As Sophia stepped into the living room, she saw Emily nestled against Lucas on the sofa, watching with affectionate amusement as he peeled an orange for her. Lucas gently picked away every bit of white pith from the orange segments before arranging them on a plate for Emily. "For you," he said with a soft smile. "Enjoy, my little foodie." As Emily took the plate, she noticed Sophia entering the room. A triumphant smile graced her lips as she called out, "Sophia, would you like some? Lucas peeled these himself. Something you've never experienced, I'm sure." Sophia's gaze fell upon the perfectly prepared orange segments, and she felt a sudden sting behind her eyes. The painful truth was that in all their time together, Lucas had never once peeled an orange for her. She had always been the one serving him. The realization struck her with perfect clarity—Lucas knew well how to be thoughtful, but he simply reserved his kindness for Emily. Sophia felt her heart breaking into pieces as she finally understood how painful comparison could be. "She's perfectly capable of peeling her own fruit," Lucas said dismissively, barely glancing at Sophia. Then he noticed her pale complexion and added, "Are you alright? You look terribly pale." Sophia's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she debated telling Lucas her secret pregnancy. A fragile hope whispered within her—that this truth might finally soften his heart toward her. "I..." Her voice faltered, the words dying on her lips. "If you're ill, see a doctor. This pathetic act is getting tiresome," Lucas said, impatience flashing across his handsome features. He was annoyed by her wounded expression, which seemed to suggest she was the victim of some terrible injustice. Sophia swallowed her unspoken words, her gaze lingering on the man who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. "I'm fine," she murmured. "I'll just go to my room." As she turned toward the staircase, Lucas felt a surge of irritation. 'I must've been too lenient with her, and now she dared to show me attitude,' he thought, fuming. Sophia had only climbed a few steps when the housekeeper, Wendy, appeared descending the stairs with servants carrying boxes. The items looked familiar, but it was the sight of her stuffed doll in Wendy's arms that made Sophia realize everything they carried was hers. In a swift motion, she stepped forward and snatched the doll. Her voice turned icy as she asked, "Wendy, care to explain this?" "Mr. Westwood's orders," Wendy said quietly. "You're to move to the storage room downstairs." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, leaving her mind reeling. She turned to Lucas, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious." They'd already maintained separate bedrooms, but she never imagined that she'd be banished to a storage room instead of even being offered the guest suite after Emily's return. For a fleeting moment under her gaze, Lucas felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly hardened into resolve. "Emily needs the sunroom for her health," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your room gets the best light. It's better for her recovery." The absurdity of it all drew a bitter laugh from Sophia's lips. She thought his previous cruelty—shoving her while pregnant and replacing her roses with Emily's cherry trees—had been the worst it could get. But this new humiliation surpassed even that. All Lucas had done since Emily's return yesterday was talk about her. In just one day, she had turned Sophia's whole life upside down. Sophia expected to feel rage, but instead found only a hollow emptiness settling in her chest. 'Look at him, Sophia,' Sophia thought bitterly. 'This is the man you gave your heart and soul to. Was any of it worth it?' "If you're so worried about her comfort, why not just move her into your room? The master suite gets the best light anyway," Sophia shot back. Lucas responded sharply, "Sophia, you need to watch your tone." Emily's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I know you don't want me here, Sophia. I'll go. Please don't fight with Lucas over me." Sophia saw right through Emily's act. A humorless laugh escaped her as she spat, "You're not going anywhere. I am." Tightening her grip on the stuffed doll, she turned and headed for the door. "Don't you dare, Sophia." Lucas rose to his feet, his voice cutting through the room. "Walk out that door now, and don't expect to ever come back." Sophia's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "I'll make sure you receive the divorce papers," she said, her voice cold and steady. "See that you sign them." "You're asking me for a divorce?" Lucas's voice was low, thick with barely restrained fury. He added, his tone edged with contempt, "Have you forgotten who gave you this life, Sophia? The luxury, the status—all of it came from me. Without my name, you're just that wide-eyed girl fresh off that forgotten little town. You don't get to leave." Chapter 3 The Replaced Medical Result Sophia didn't need to look back to know the condescending smirk that was surely on Lucas's face. She knew he had always despised her. His proposal three years ago had been motivated only by a desire to fulfill the marriage agreement between their families and to exact revenge on Emily. She had been naive enough to believe his empty promises, offering him her genuine love when he saw her as nothing more than a pawn. To him, she would always be a leech, clinging to his wealth and name for survival. But now, she had reached her limit, and she no longer wanted him in her life. Sophia walked out without a backward glance. As she stepped through the gateway, the sound of shattering porcelain echoed behind her, but she no longer cared. Lucas stood amid the shattered remains, fingers pressed to his temples. His face was a mask of simmering anger. He dismissed the mention of divorce as just another one of her calculated moves, a transparent attempt to get his attention by pulling away. Emily watched him hesitantly. "Maybe I shouldn't be staying here, Lucas. Sophia seemed really upset." "It's nothing," Lucas replied evenly. Seeing how the mention of divorce had affected him, she suggested softly, "You could go after her. Women usually respond well to a little reassurance." "I don't have time for that," Lucas said, turning toward the staircase. With a business trip looming, his mind was elsewhere. 'Let her make a scene if she wants to,' he thought. 'She'll cool off and come crawling back. She always does.' ***** Sophia's home was a beautiful 3,200-square-foot apartment with an open-concept layout and sleek modern decor—all paid for with her own earnings. In her study, she printed the divorce papers and a letter resigning from her position. With a steady hand, she signed both, and then summoned a courier to deliver them directly to the Westwood Group. When she married Lucas three years ago, Sophia had joined his company, hoping to build a genuine connection with him. She started at the very bottom as an assistant and gradually earned her way up to department manager. She had wanted nothing more than to be close to him—in their home and at work. But in the end, her efforts were met with cold indifference. Gazing downward, Sophia softly cradled her stomach. "It's just us now, little one," she whispered. The courier arrived at Westwood headquarters while Lucas was away. His chief executive assistant, Kevin Chapman, received the delivery and signed. The moment Kevin saw the contents, he reached for the phone, dialing Lucas's number in haste. "Mr. Westwood, your wife has sent divorce documents." "Burn it all." On the other side of the ocean, Lucas loosened his tie as an unexpected wave of irritation came over him. "But Mrs. Westwood has even submitted her resignation letter..." Kevin replied, his tone hesitant. "She can't survive without this family." The blue flame from Lucas's lighter highlighted the grim set of his features. "Let her be. She'll come crawling back once reality sets in." Meanwhile, Sophia remained completely unaware of his words. Her morning had begun with a call from her mother-in-law, Helen Westwood. "Where are you? Return at once," Helen commanded in her typically imperious manner, leaving no room for discussion. Complying, Sophia drove back to the estate. No sooner had she stepped inside than a velvet box came hurling toward her head, which she narrowly avoided by stepping aside. Helen's shrill voice pierced the air. "How dare you avoid that? You've got some nerve." Sophia's gaze fell upon the velvet box at her feet, and suddenly, she understood why it seemed familiar. She remembered purchasing that exact box to store her pregnancy test results. On Lucas's birthday, she had intended to present it to him as a gift, but he had accidentally pushed her before she could give it to him, resulting in her hospitalization. Her heart leaped as she turned to face Helen's livid expression. 'Could she know about the pregnancy? But something about her reaction seems strange,' she wondered. For three years, Helen had made no secret of her disapproval of Sophia, someone raised in a small town. Yet every time Sophia visited the Westwood residence with Lucas, Helen would consistently nag Sophia about starting a family soon. If Helen knew Sophia was pregnant, she was supposed to be absolutely delighted instead of reacting like this. Helen clutched a medical report, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared down Sophia. "For three years, I've watched your marriage to Lucas, wondering why you never conceived. Now I understand—he married a barren woman. "If you hadn't left this at the hotel and Lucas's friend hadn't been kind enough to deliver it, I'd still be in the dark about your condition." Heart pounding with shock, Sophia ignored Helen's murderous gaze and snatched the document from her hand. The clinical report lay cold and pale in the morning light. There was her name, clearly printed, alongside the devastating diagnosis: "permanent infertility." 'Permanent infertility? But that's impossible. I'm pregnant. Someone must have switched my test results. But who would do such a thing?' Sophia wondered. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "This isn't my..." Emily, who had remained silent until now, suddenly interrupted, "Sophia, the Westwood lineage has been passed down through a single heir for ten generations. Are you trying to ensure Lucas dies without an heir? To extinguish the family line completely?" "How utterly heartless!" Helen exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Sophia as her anger reached its peak. "We've welcomed you with open arms since you married into this family. Yet you've been hiding this from us? To think you'd let our family line die out—it's truly despicable!" she added. Sophia didn't even attempt to explain herself. If they wanted to believe she was barren, so be it—it would only simplify the divorce proceedings. "I only received the results two days ago. I hadn't found the right moment to share the news," Sophia replied, her voice calm. "This wasn't about finding the right moment. You did this intentionally," Helen retorted, her face contorted with rage. "And you planned to give this to Lucas as a gift? What kind of twisted mind would conceive such a thing?" Sophia maintained her silence. Helen took a measured breath, forcing her anger down. "If you can't conceive naturally, I won't hold it against you. I've spoken with Emily, and she's agreed to donate her eggs so you and Lucas can pursue in vitro fertilization." Sophia stared in disbelief at the unexpected turn. "Could you repeat that?" She believed she had misheard because the suggestion was both preposterous and deeply offensive. "If you can't conceive, that's your problem. Emily is being extraordinarily generous by offering her eggs. The least you could do is show some appreciation instead of this ingratitude," Helen sneered. A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. "Perhaps you'd like to accept this generous offer yourself?" "How dare you speak to me like that!" Helen's eyes flashed with fury. "Sophia, you shouldn't speak to Mrs. Westwood that way. She was suggesting that for your sake," Emily said in a honeyed tone, reaching for the glass. As she moved, she made certain to display the prayer beads circling her delicate wrist. Sophia's breath caught—she would recognize the bracelet anywhere. That was the very ones she had sacrificed so much to obtain while praying for Lucas's recovery. It felt like a personal insult, seeing the bracelet that symbolized her love for Lucas now clasped around Emily's wrist. "For my sake?" Sophia repeated, the words tasting bitter as she caught the sly glint of satisfaction in Emily's eyes. It sent a sharp ache through her. She knew this game all too well. Emily had a gift for twisting people's vulnerabilities to her advantage, a lesson Sophia had learned the hard way three years ago. "I'm infertile. What possible use could I have for your eggs?" Sophia asked, her voice cold. "Do you really think I need a constant reminder of what I can't have?" Emily's smile vanished. For Helen's benefit, she bit her lip, her eyes instantly welling with feigned hurt. "Mrs. Westwood," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "I was only trying to help Sophia." Helen immediately comforted Emily by patting her hand. She then shot Sophia a disapproving look. "How can you be so selfish, Sophia? Are you really determined to let the Westwood family line die out?" Sophia gestured dismissively toward Emily. "Well, if she's so fertile, let her handle the baby-making." The thought of Emily getting to be a mother the easy way turned Sophia's stomach. Chapter 4 Take Back Her Things The color drained from both Helen's and Emily's faces. Helen stepped forward, jabbing a finger toward Sophia. "You think you're better than us? Then you give the Westwood family an heir. Don't blame anyone else for your own useless womb." Sophia bit back the sharp retort on her tongue. She was done with this family, done with Lucas. Arguing now would only prolong the inevitable. "Mrs. Westwood," she began, "I've decided—" Lucas's familiar, deep voice cut through the tension from the doorway. "Decided what?" Sophia turned to see Lucas standing there, his clothes rumpled from travel. His assistant, Kevin, hovered behind him with a suitcase in hand. The air in the room was thick with tension, so Kevin knew better than to stay. He simply left the suitcase by the door and made a quick exit. Loosening his tie, Lucas turned to Helen. "Mom, what brings you here?" "If I hadn't come, you'd have let our family name die out," Helen shot back. She then snatched the medical report from Sophia and flung it at Lucas's chest. "See for yourself," she said coldly, and with that, she swept out of the room. Lucas looked down at the document in his hands, and the words "permanent infertility" caused a faint twitch in his brow. His eyes, when they finally lifted to meet Sophia's, were devoid of warmth. "You'll go back to the hospital tomorrow for a full work-up. I will not have a wife who can't give me an heir." A hollow ache spread through Sophia's chest. Any foolish hope she'd been clinging to finally faded. Lucas had never defended her in three years of his mother's constant belittlement. And now, the ease with which he believed this lie revealed the chilling truth of his character. "I have the divorce papers right here," Sophia said, pulling the documents from her bag. She extended them toward him, her voice steady. "Just sign them, and you'll never have to see me again." Lucas didn't even look at the papers. In one swift motion, his hand closed around her throat, pulling her close. He leaned in until his face was mere inches from hers, and she could feel his warm breath and smell the familiar scent of his cologne. There was a time when this closeness would have made her heart flutter. Now, it only made her skin crawl. It was amazing how easy it was to walk away when all the love had drained away. "Sophia, have I been too soft with you?" Lucas's voice was thick with contempt. "Where exactly do you think you'll go without my protection?" She held his gaze without flinching. "That's really none of your concern anymore." "Still got that sharp tongue," he sneered. He released her with a dismissive shove, as if her defiance meant nothing. "Go make me dinner. I'm hungry." A wave of pain shot through Sophia's lower abdomen as she sank into the sofa, her skin turning clammy with an instant, cold sweat. Across the room, Emily slid her arm through Lucas's with practiced ease. "Don't let Sophia bother you," she murmured. "Her little scene was just a cry for your attention." Lucas pulled his tie free, his stern expression melting away as he focused on Emily. "How are you holding up?" he asked, his tone gentler. "I'm fine," she sighed, putting on a pitiful face. "It's just that the medicine is so awfully bitter." "It's bitter because it's strong. You need to keep taking it," he reminded her. "I picked up those candies you like. They're in my suitcase. Go get them yourself." "I know you always look out for me," Emily said, stretching up to press a light kiss to Lucas's cheek. "Consider that your reward." A look of quiet satisfaction crossed his features at the gesture. "I'm going up to shower," he said. "Go ahead," Emily said sweetly, fluttering a wave at him. She waited until Lucas's footsteps faded up the staircase before turning to the suitcase. They carried on as if Sophia weren't standing right there in the same room. Humming cheerfully, Emily unzipped the luggage. Alongside Lucas's neatly folded clothes sat a jar of shimmering candies and an elegant red velvet box that clearly held something valuable. Her eyes skipped over the candy, going straight to the velvet box. When she lifted the lid, a pink diamond necklace lay gleaming, its facets scattering rainbows in the light. "Oh, it's exquisite. I love it," she whispered, her eyes widening. "So the candy was just a decoy. This necklace is what he really wanted me to find." Draping the necklace against her collarbone, Emily turned to face Sophia, who had risen from the sofa. "Well, Sophia? Don't you think it suits me perfectly?" The pink diamond necklace around Emily's neck struck Sophia as oddly familiar. It came to her a moment later—she had coveted it last month while flipping through a magazine. Lucas had seen her fascination and promised to get it for her. The catch was its exclusivity—a single piece, sourced from Melaria, the country where Lucas had been attending to business. "That was for me," Sophia said, her voice calm. The man was disposable, but her possessions were not. She would reclaim what was rightfully hers. With a swift motion, Emily clasped the necklace. "Finders keepers," she said with a mocking grin. Sophia approached for a closer look. Though the necklace was more exquisite than its photograph, any desire for it had vanished. A wary look crossed Emily's face. "What is this about?" "To take what belongs to me, of course," Sophia said, stepping close and extending her hand. "It's time you returned it." Emily's hands instinctively flew to the diamond necklace at her throat. "Lucas will never stand for this, Sophia. You know what I mean to him." Sophia almost laughed. She knew well that Emily held a special place in Lucas's heart. But that was irrelevant. She was only claiming what was hers. "Give the bracelet back to me," Sophia said coldly. It was a token earned through true devotion, and she wouldn't let its significance be tarnished. Realizing Sophia only wanted the simple bracelet, Emily smiled condescendingly. 'Some shortsighted people have no taste,' she thought. Emily twisted the bracelet around her wrist. "I heard you went to Grace Abbey to beg for this good-luck charm," she said. "You are so hung up on him, aren't you?" The hypocrisy of her words was almost laughable. "Give it back," Sophia said, her voice like ice. Emily's eyes flickered to a point behind Sophia, and a sly smile touched her lips. She lowered her voice. "If you want it so badly, why don't you come and take it?" Sophia didn't stop to think. She grabbed Emily's wrist and tugged the bracelet free. The moment it was off, Emily's demeanor shifted completely. "Sophia, what are you doing?" she cried out, her voice suddenly loud and panicked. "Lucas gave this to me." Before Sophia could even turn around, a powerful hand seized her by the collar and hauled her backwards. The fabric dug sharply into her throat, stealing her breath. Stumbling to regain her footing, Sophia looked up to see Lucas. He was already cradling Emily. "Emily, are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern. Emily buried her face in his chest. "I'm fine," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Please, don't be angry with Sophia. She didn't mean it." Lucas's jaw tightened, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. He took a deep breath and fixed Sophia with an icy stare. "Apologize to Emily." Chapter 5 She Wants A Clean Break A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. She had fooled herself into thinking she was numb to Lucas's coldness. But his command still sent a fresh, sharp pain through her chest. She knew there was no point arguing with a man who had already chosen the other woman's side. "I won't apologize," Sophia said, her fist closing tightly around the bracelet. "What for?" Emily looked up at Lucas with well-practiced vulnerability. "I'm causing trouble here, Lucas. I should go." Lucas caught her wrist before she could take a second step. "You're staying right here." His attention snapped back to Sophia, his expression darkening. "Now, Sophia, apologize to Emily." The room blurred as tears filled Sophia's eyes, twisting his familiar face into a stranger's. She lifted the simple bracelet between them. "This is my stuff in the first place. Since when is taking back what was stolen a crime?" "Your stuff? Since when do you have anything of your own?" Lucas's lips curled in a sneer. "I've paid for every stitch of clothing on your back." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, forcing a bitter laugh from her lips. He knew perfectly well she earned her own living, yet he took every opportunity to demean her. "This bracelet came from Grace Abbey," she countered, her voice trembling. "You didn't pay a cent for it." Lucas's eyes dropped to the simple beads in her palm. "You think I care about some cheap bracelet?" he scoffed. Hot tears streamed down Sophia's face without warning. Wiping them away, Sophia made a silent vow—this would be the last time he reduced her to this. "Fine!" With one sharp motion, she snapped the bracelet's cord, sending beads skittering across the floor. Lucas watched the scattered beads come to rest, his hand curling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. He knew how much that bracelet meant to her, but the moment Emily wanted it, he didn't hesitate to take it off and hand it over. Lucas's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "Sophia!" "I want a divorce," Sophia said, her voice eerily calm. As she opened her hand, the last bead from the bracelet clattered onto the floor between them. "Let's just end this." The sound was small, but in the tense silence, it was deafening, echoing in Lucas's mind. He let out a short laugh, his gaze locked on her. "You think a threat will work? You should know better than that by now." 'This has to be a ploy,' he thought to himself. 'She loves me too much to go through with it. She has accepted her role as Emily's replacement from the beginning and has never once tried to leave. 'She would never have the strength to walk away from me.' "Go make us something to eat, and we can forget this ever happened." Lucas was certain he had thrown Sophia a lifeline. He waited, fully expecting her to be overcome with relief and scurry off to the kitchen. He'd been away on business, and days of unfamiliar rich food had left his stomach unsettled. What he craved was Sophia's cooking—simple, hearty food that tasted like home. It was a flavor he couldn't find anywhere else. "You can go eat your ass," Sophia shot back. She picked up her bag, her lips twisting into a scornful smile, and walked out without a backward glance. That smile grated on Lucas's nerves more than the insult itself. In his frustration, his eyes fell on the string of prayer beads lying scattered on the floor, and he gave them an impatient kick. 'So that's her game. She wants to challenge me? I'd like to see just how long her resolve will hold,' he thought, fuming. ***** Sophia sped away from Nightfall Estate, her phone buzzing relentlessly on the passenger seat. Lucas's name flashed across the screen again and again until she finally grabbed it and blocked his number for good. When she looked up at the road, she blinked, her vision blurring for a moment. She braced for the familiar sting of tears, but when her fingers touched her skin, it was dry. It was only then that she noticed the soft patter against the windshield. A fine drizzle had begun to fall, and a quiet melancholy settled over her, as gray as the sky. Up ahead, the flickering hazard lights of a sleek black car broke the rhythm of the rain. A man in a soaked suit, looking to be in his forties, stood beside it, waving frantically at passing traffic. Almost without conscious thought, Sophia found herself flipping on her turn signal and pulling over. She rolled down her window as the man rushed over. "Everything okay?" she asked. "It's my boss," the man said, his voice tight with panic. "He's having a heart attack. The ambulance is stuck in a multi-car accident. Please, can you take us to the hospital?" Sophia hesitated. Letting two strange men into her car, especially in this weather, felt dangerous. Every cautionary tale she'd ever heard flashed through her mind. Seeing her hesitation, the man added urgently, "I promise we're not dangerous. My boss is—" But Sophia was already moving, cutting the engine and stepping out into the downpour. "Just get him to my car, now," she called out as she rushed toward their vehicle. As she got closer, she recognized the distinctive emblem of the black Maybach. Working together, they carefully transferred the elderly man from the luxury sedan into Sophia's more modest car. The old man's lips were tinged with blue, and each ragged breath seemed like a struggle, clear signs of his critical condition. Sliding behind the wheel, Sophia started the car and pulled back onto the road, pushing through the veils of rain. In the backseat, the middle-aged man was a whirlwind of activity on his phone, coordinating with a hospital and alerting the family. Beyond the windows, the storm seemed to intensify, as if trying to match the urgency inside the car. After ensuring everything was in place, the man turned to Sophia with heartfelt appreciation. "You're the only one who stopped in this downpour. We can't thank you enough." A warm smile touched Sophia's lips. "Some things are just meant to be." ***** Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital entrance where medical staff stood ready. The team swiftly transferred the elderly man to a stretcher and hurried him inside for emergency care. Just as Sophia was about to drive away, she spotted a lone leather shoe in the backseat—the one the elderly man had been wearing. After a moment's hesitation, she parked properly and carried the shoe to the reception desk, logging it as a lost item. Sophia was just turning to leave when a group emerged from the hospital's main entrance. At the front of the group was a man whose height and posture commanded attention. He turned his sharp gaze on her, and the intensity in his eyes was so commanding that it felt like a physical pressure. 'That frown means trouble,' Sophia thought. She averted her gaze and continued walking, brushing past the group without a second look. It wasn't until she was back in the driver's seat that she felt the chill of her wet clothes clinging to her skin. As she dried her hair with a towel from the backseat, a notification popped up on her phone while she was opening the navigation app. It was a post from Emily: [Nothing says 'forever' like a soft-boiled egg made with love! My ultimate comfort food.] The post featured two photos—one showed a soft-boiled egg with a ketchup heart, and the other captured a tall man's back as he stood at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Sophia couldn't help but compare. When she was with Lucas, he had acted like even pouring her a glass of water was a significant concession. Cooking a meal was utterly out of the question. The fact that he was now cooking for Emily spoke volumes about where his true affections lay. She closed the page and entered her apartment address into the navigation system before driving out of the parking lot. As she watched the heavy rain outside, a single decisive thought crystallized in her mind—this marriage was over. Chapter 6 Return The Trash To The Dumpster That evening, a text came through from Annabelle Quinn, Sophia's best friend since college, insisting they go out to a lounge. The old Sophia would have declined immediately, conditioned to obey Lucas's rule about her not going out. But now that Sophia was divorcing him, his opinions held no weight. ***** The moment Sophia stepped out of the car, she saw Annabelle waiting by the entrance. "Hope you haven't been waiting long," she said as she approached. "Just got here," Annabelle grinned, looping her arm through Sophia's. "So, what's the special occasion? Did you finally get a night off from your sweetheart?" Sophia struggled to find the words, but she couldn't keep it from her best friend. "I'm getting a divorce," she finally said. "Let me guess," Annabelle said, not one to mince words in front of her best friend. "This is about Emily being back, isn't it?" "It's not just that," Sophia admitted, her voice quiet. It just took seeing the difference for herself to truly see how little her three years of effort had meant. Annabelle threw a supportive arm around Sophia's shoulders. "You should have woken up to this a long time ago." For three years, she had watched Sophia lose herself in a hollow relationship, and it killed Annabelle to see her friend throw everything away for a man who never appreciated her. "Better late than never," Sophia offered with a weak smile. "Damn right it is," Annabelle declared. "Tonight, I'm getting us the best male models in town. You deserve some real attention." They ascended into the pulsating heart of the club, pushing through the glittering crowd toward the exclusive booth Annabelle had booked. As they moved past the entrance to a private booth, a burst of laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway. Amid the noise, Sophia's own name caught her sharp ear. "Got to hand it to Lucas. The minute Emily was back, he moved her right in. Word is, he showed Sophia the door." "Well, she had it coming. Play the simp, and you lose it all. Seriously though, that night in the booth with all the blood? I truly thought a tragedy had occurred, but it was probably just her period." "You're thinking about that? Man, have you had a thing for Sophia all along?" "Who'd pine after some nobody from a backwater? Only Lucas, with his unique preferences, would stick around for three years." "Guess the novelty wore off. Time for a change." Standing in the hallway, Sophia felt a cold stillness settle behind her eyes. The voices clicked into place—Lucas's oldest friends. They had been there that night, spectators to her most shameful moment. Annabelle's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind." But as she moved toward the door, Sophia stopped her with a gentle hand. "This is my battle to fight," Sophia said firmly. With that, Sophia pushed the door open and swept into the room. She settled gracefully onto the sofa, joining their conversation with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you're talking about unique preferences, I top him," she began, her voice deceptively light, "I recycled what Emily threw away. But it looks like I did everyone a favor by returning the trash to the dumpster where it belongs." A stunned silence fell over the room. Every face on the circular sofa stared at her in horrified fascination. Unbeknownst to Sophia, two figures had entered the room behind her during her speech. The guests' eyes darted nervously between Sophia and the newcomers, the air thickening with tension. There stood Lucas and Emily, their expressions dark as storm clouds. Their presence made Sophia turn. Her eyes instantly met the cold, dark stare of Lucas. But she didn't back down. A defiant shrug lifted her shoulders. "Look what the cat dragged in. My trash husband." Emily's eyes instantly glistened with tears. "Sophia, ignore them," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "It's all lies. Lucas and I are just friends." As if to prove her point, she clutched Lucas's arm. "Tell her, Lucas. Make her understand there's nothing going on between us." Sophia's gaze dropped to the hand clinging to Lucas's arm, and a faint, derisive smile touched her mouth. 'Just friends? Did she really expect anyone to believe that?' she thought bitterly. Lucas detached himself from Emily's grip and closed the distance between him and Sophia. The motion broke the tension, stirring his friends into action. "Hey, Lucas, take it easy," one of them said, stepping forward. "She's just reacting to our stupid jokes." "Come on, Sophia, just say you're sorry to Lucas," another one urged. "You know he'll forgive you." The suggestion made Sophia want to laugh bitterly. 'Is this really how they see me? As some lovesick fool who'd come crawling back at the first sign of forgiveness?' she thought. It explained everything—why, for three years, they had shown her phony respect as Lucas's wife while mocking her devotion in private. She had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn't met Lucas seven years ago, if that fateful incident hadn't tied her to him, she would have moved on with her life long ago. "Are you quite done?" Lucas's voice cut through her thoughts as he reached for her arm. She shifted her weight gracefully, letting his hand close on empty air. The rejected gesture hung between them for a beat too long before he withdrew, his features tightening with displeasure. Turning to Emily, who was now dabbing at her eyes, Sophia arched a brow. "There's no need for the waterworks. You're making it look like I'm the one being cruel here." "Sophia, I've treated you like my elder sister. I—" Emily began, trying to defend herself. "Don't," Sophia interrupted, her voice cool. "We arrived minutes apart, and you were first. Let's skip the emotional act." Emily's face turned from pale to deep red as she clenched her jaw in fury. 'Since when has Sophia found this kind of nerve? She used to shrink into silence whenever Lucas was near,' she thought. Despite her three-year absence from the city, Emily had ensured she received every scrap of information about Sophia's life. She knew all about Sophia's pathetic attempts to please Lucas, and she knew exactly how little he cared for his wife. She even knew they kept separate bedrooms, and that on the occasional night Lucas spent with Sophia, he always sent her back to her own room afterward. She knew that to Lucas, Sophia was just a body—convenient, disposable, and utterly unimportant. With a dark expression, Lucas grabbed Sophia's wrist and began pulling her toward the exit. Sophia's answer was a sharp, stinging slap across his cheek. The sound cracked through the air, and a dead silence fell over the room. All eyes were fixed on Sophia in pure shock. Everyone was wondering if she had lost her mind to dare something like that. Lucas slowly worked his jaw, the look in his eyes so dark that it promised retribution. When Sophia resisted, Lucas didn't hesitate. He swept her up onto his shoulder and carried her out of the room. The sight made Emily's heart clench. She'd never seen Lucas be so patient with anyone. Before she knew it, her hand was on his arm. "Lucas..." He didn't turn his head, but some of the tension left his expression. "I'm taking her home," he said firmly. "The driver will return for you when you're ready." Emily could only watch as Lucas walked away with Sophia. She had no right to stop him, but it stung—this was the first time he'd ever left her for another woman, especially one who meant nothing. Her hands tightened at her sides. 'I gave you a chance to walk away quietly, Sophia. You brought this on yourself,' she thought. Sophia's protests echoed down the hallway as she struggled against Lucas's hold. Unsure what was happening between the couple, Annabelle turned away, pretending she hadn't noticed them. Lucas carried Sophia into the elevator and stepped out briskly when it reached the basement level. As the car door opened, Lucas tossed Sophia into the back seat. Struggling upright, she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea from the prolonged time she'd spent upside down. She opened her mouth to curse, but the words died on her lips as the tinted window of a nearby Maybach began to descend. In the shadowy interior, the man's profile was sharp and forbidding. His lips were set in a firm line, and he sat with the imposing stillness of an iceberg, his presence pushing others away. Sensing her gaze, he glanced over, and their eyes locked. Without a word, Sophia averted her gaze and hid her face behind a veil of tangled hair. Chapter 7 Not Her Home Anymore Lucas's black Bentley pulled out of the underground parking garage, but Sophia was still lost in thought about those intense eyes. There was something familiar about them, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen them before. Lucas's voice broke the silence. "Did you follow me here? What are you so concerned about?" "What?" Sophia asked, snapping back to reality. Keeping his eyes on the road, Lucas tried to explain. "You know how my friends are—they never think before they speak. Don't take their words seriously. There's nothing going on between Emily and me." 'If there's really nothing between them, why was he being so protective? He only rushed me out because he was worried I might cause a scene and embarrass Emily,' Sophia thought. "Sure," Sophia said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You and Emily are completely innocent." "I'm trying to explain myself here," Lucas said, his patience wearing thin. "Do you have to be so sarcastic?" Her ungrateful attitude was beginning to irritate him. He remembered how she used to soften at the slightest reassurance. Now, it seemed her patience had worn thin. "Understood," Sophia said, her tone flat. "Is that all?" "I've been clear from the beginning—you are my wife, and that won't change. But if you want this marriage to work, you need to drop your little tricks. I won't play these games." Sophia stayed quiet, struck by his assumption that her mention of divorce was merely a plea for attention. Her silence tightened the air between them. "Don't become someone I resent, Sophia," he said with a frown, his voice low. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips as she turned toward the window, shutting him out completely. Sensing he had pushed too far, Lucas eased his tone. "I had your things moved back to our room. If you want to stay with me, just say so. There's no need for all this." Sophia was left speechless. ***** As the car came to a stop in the courtyard of Nightfall Estate, Sophia stepped out. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the cherry blossom grove in the garden. The sight sent a sharp pang through her chest. She forced her gaze away and continued into the villa. Inside, the decor had been completely redone. The new style, with its unmistakable resemblance to the Evans residence, clearly revealed who had overseen the renovations. She moved through rooms that felt entirely alien to her now, but she kept her thoughts to herself since this was no longer her home. Wendy looked surprised when she saw Sophia. "Mrs. Westwood, you've returned. Have you had your supper?" Sinking into the plush pink sofa, Sophia answered quietly, "Yes, thank you." Wendy offered a tight smile before retreating to her quarters to make a hurried phone call to Helen, reporting the unexpected arrival. Helen had never approved of Sophia, whom she saw as a plain nobody not good enough for her son. The infertility diagnosis hardened Helen's resolve to rush the divorce so Lucas could marry someone worthy of giving her grandchildren. The news of Sophia's sudden return after her dramatic departure kept Helen tossing and turning all night. Lucas had been certain Sophia would confront him about the complete makeover of their home. He stood ready to smooth things over, but she walked through the rooms without comment, her silence leaving him more unsettled than any argument would have. "If the decor isn't to your taste..." Lucas moved to sit beside her, his arms beginning to encircle her. Sophia reached for a throw pillow, tucking it between them as she shifted away from his embrace. The gentle rejection stung, though Lucas reassured himself that this was the same woman who had always adored him. "It's true. I prefer my original choices," she said calmly. "Can you have everything returned to how it was?" The warm, elegant furnishings had vanished, replaced by the overwhelming pinks that Emily favored—a transformation that had turned their home into something resembling a kitschy boutique hotel. Lucas shifted uncomfortably. "Let's not make a big deal out of it. You'll get used to the way things are around here." A faint, knowing smile curved on Sophia's lips as she met his gaze. That smile never failed to get under his skin. "Try to see it from her perspective, Sophia," he said, his voice tightening. "After everything she's been through these past three years, all Emily wants is to feel like she belongs." A wave of exhaustion washed over her. It was like talking to a brick wall. "I know," she said flatly. "You have your entire family backing you up," Lucas shot back, his patience clearly wearing thin. "But Emily? She has nobody else. Is it really so hard for you to be a little more compassionate?" "Funny," Sophia replied, her tone icy. "I was under the impression my adoptive parents were still very much alive." Besides, the Evans family had never once ceased to think about Emily throughout those three years. They made trip after trip to Felarica to celebrate Emily's birthdays and attend her parties. They even missed Sophia's wedding to Lucas because of her. A single social media post from Emily, complaining of her loneliness in Felarica, was all it took for them to drop everything and fly to her side. "Now that you've made it out of that dead-end town, you should be the last person to let Emily sink into it," he shot back. As Sophia looked at him, the last glimmer of hope in her eyes vanished. She knew well enough to stop mentioning divorce. To Lucas, it was just another act—proof that she was the same desperate woman the world thought her to be. If she couldn't get through to Lucas, she was going to find another path. Now, with her infertility diagnosis, she knew Helen would be far more impatient to act on this news. Sophia retreated to the master bedroom. Her possessions had claimed their space, with her clothes occupying half of the vast closet. A sense of normalcy had finally settled between her and Lucas, the kind that belongs to a husband and wife. But it was a fragile peace, already beginning to fray. Lucas was still in the living room when Emily returned. The air around her carried the sharp tang of liquor. Her face was deeply flushed, and she swayed slightly as she walked. He was at her side in an instant, his hand gently steadying her. "You've had far too much to drink," he murmured, his brow furrowed with worry. "This isn't good for you. I don't want to see you like this again." Emily turned into him, her arms finding their way around his neck. "I couldn't help it," she whispered, her voice thick with drink and emotion. "It's the only thing that dulls the ache." Sensing her legs might give way, he simply gathered her into his arms. "Wendy," he said to the housekeeper who had appeared, heading for the stairs. "Would you bring up some electrolyte water for Emily?" "Understood," Wendy replied. Playing the part of the drunken mess, Emily clung to Lucas and sobbed into his chest. "I've always regretted it," she cried. "Letting my pride push you away was the biggest mistake of my life." A long-buried tenderness tugged at Lucas's heart. "Let's try again, Lucas. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice," she whispered, tilting her face up to his. Just as their lips were about to meet, the master bedroom door swung open, and the sudden movement startled the couple in the hallway. Sophia stood in the doorway in her pajamas, watching them with a completely expressionless face. Lucas instantly snapped back to reality, and a rare look of panic flashed across his handsome face. "Sophie, Emily is drunk," he said quickly. "I'm just taking her back to her room." Still draped around him, Emily met Sophia's eyes over Lucas's shoulder. The tears were gone, replaced by a cool, triumphant smirk that held no trace of intoxication. Sophia's mouth curved into a humorless smile as she replied, "Yes, and you're drunk too." Without another word, she stepped back and slammed the door, the turn of the lock echoing decisively behind her. The idea of sleeping next to Lucas made her blood boil. She honestly didn't trust herself to lie beside him all night without her rage getting the better of her. Chapter 8 Divorce Settlement The next morning, as Sophia left her room, the guest room door across the hall opened at the exact same time. Lucas was stepping out, finishing with his tie. He glanced up and went completely still, finding Sophia already watching him from their bedroom doorway. Surprise flashed across his face, and he started with an explanation. "She was a mess last night," he said, his voice low. "I couldn't just leave her." Sophia's eyes dropped to the bright red smudge on his collar. Her eyes were filled with silent scorn as she thought about how filthy it was. She said with icy calm, "Relax, I know perfectly well that nothing would ever happen between you two, even when you don't have a stitch of clothing on." Her words cut off whatever excuse Lucas was about to offer. Anger darkened his features. "Think what you want," he snapped. "My feelings for her are purely brotherly." Sophia's eyes fell to the lipstick stain on his collar again. "So, how does it feel to be so close to your 'sister'?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Following her line of sight, Lucas saw the evidence, and a shadow of guilt crossed his face. "It was an accident," he insisted, his voice tight. "Don't make it sound so sordid." "So filthy," she murmured, shaking her head. As he drew a sharp breath to retaliate, she added with a cold smile, "I mean your shirt." He stared at her, his expression turning to stone. She merely offered a careless shrug and walked away, leaving him fuming in the hallway. Downstairs, Sophia was halfway through her breakfast when her phone vibrated on the table. A quick glance at the screen confirmed it was Helen calling. Just then, Wendy appeared with two additional breakfast plates. Sophia swiped to answer the call, a deliberate smile directed at Wendy. "You're calling so early, Mrs. Westwood." The pointed smile made Wendy's blood run cold, and at the mention of Mrs. Westwood, she was reminded of betraying Sophia by reporting to Helen last night. Stricken with guilt, she almost fumbled the tray. She dropped the plates onto the table and hastily retreated to the safety of the kitchen. A faint, cold smile touched Sophia's lips as Helen's venomous voice filled her ear. "Utterly devoid of manners," Helen sneered. "What else can you expect from someone with such a common background?" Sophia's eyes turned to ice. "Trace any lineage back three generations, Mrs. Westwood, and you'll find humble roots. It's distasteful to scorn your own origins." Helen found herself at a loss for words. Though Lucas's parents both had city roots, his grandparents' generation had all struggled in a backwater. Helen's parents had even lived in a cowshed. So in that regard, Helen was no better than Sophia. "That sharp tongue of yours is exactly why people can't stand you," Helen shot back. Sophia rolled her eyes in contempt. Biting back her anger, Helen forced a calmer tone. "We need to meet. There's a document for you to sign." "What kind of document?" "It'll be clear when you get here." Letting the matter drop, Sophia hung up. As she did, she saw Lucas descending the staircase. He had showered and changed, his hair perfectly styled like a model from the pages of a magazine. She had to admit, he was pleasing to look at. 'With those looks, he certainly has the assets for a career as a gigolo,' Sophia thought wryly. A smug feeling warmed Lucas as her eyes stayed on him. He drew out the chair next to hers and sat down. "Paliston Fashion Week is just around the corner," he offered. "It'll be a good chance for us to get away." In three years of marriage, it was the first time he had ever proposed such a thing. Sophia acknowledged him with a quiet hum, but she felt no spark of happiness or expectation. She saw the offer for what it was—a peace offering, born of the guilt he carried after his betrayal. Her ride showed up shortly after breakfast. Picking up her bag, Sophia walked out the door.
Chapter 1 His First Love Returned Sophia Evans could feel her world beginning to crack the moment she heard the news—the woman her husband, Lucas Westwood, had never gotten over was back. When Sophia arrived at the hotel's VIP suite with a gift, she found Lucas's first love—Emily Evans—being humiliated by his childhood friends. "Lick the wine off my shoe, Emily. I'll give you thirty thousand dollars," one of them said. Emily was forced to kneel on the floor, tears in her defiant eyes as she stared shamefully at Lucas. Lucas watched with a dark expression, saying nothing as he held his temper in check. Sophia halted mid-step, struck by the painful familiarity of the scene. Three years ago, when she had first been welcomed into the Evans family, these same privileged young men had tormented her in exactly the same way to gain Emily's favor. But back then, Lucas hadn't worn this expression of utter heartbreak. "There you are," Lucas said as soon as he spotted Sophia, his arm sliding around her waist in a show of intimacy. Only Sophia could feel the desperate pressure of his grip—a silent testament to the pain he was trying to conceal. Lucas's childhood friends had reserved the entire venue for his birthday celebration. But Sophia had never expected Emily to show up here. Everyone knew Lucas had married Sophia just to spite Emily. Three years ago, Emily's identity as a fake heiress was exposed. She broke up with Lucas then and there and left the Evans family behind. Lucas pursued her to the airport, boarded her departing flight, and forced the plane that had already taken off to turn back. Right there on that plane, he proposed to Emily. To his complete surprise, Emily refused without hesitation, declaring that the arranged marriage should be honored by the Evans family's true heiress. Humiliated and acting out of spite, Lucas married Sophia instead. For three years, Sophia had lived as Emily's stand-in. Everyone whispered that if Emily ever returned, Lucas would discard Sophia without a second thought. Sophia had once believed that too, but something had shifted in these past six months—Lucas seemed to be genuinely falling for her. He made grand declarations of love in the press, showered her with luxury homes and cars, and even replaced the cherry tree he'd planted for Emily with a garden full of red roses. In their most tender moments, he'd whisper against her ear, "Let's have a baby, Sophie. I hope they have your smile." Sophia's hand drifted absently to her stomach as she clutched the gift box a little tighter. Inside was a positive pregnancy test—meant to be Lucas's birthday surprise. But now, the timing of the gift felt all wrong. "You still think you're the Evans family princess, Emily? Lucas only has eyes for Sophia now. Why not be with me? A pretty thing like you deserves to be treated right," one of Lucas's friends, Ryan Shaw, sneered. He dragged Emily onto his lap, his hands already roaming over her. "Get your hands off me!" Emily cried, fighting against Ryan's grip as humiliation burned through her. Her resistance only fueled Ryan's excitement. In one swift motion, he shoved her down onto the couch, his powerful body trapping hers. Horrified that Ryan would assault Emily right in front of Lucas, Sophia jumped up to stop him, only to be shoved aside as Lucas already surged into action. As she stumbled, her hands instinctively reached for Lucas's arm, but he brutally shook her off. She hit the floor hard, a jolt of sharp pain shooting from her tailbone straight to her womb. Through the pain-induced haze, she saw Lucas grab Ryan by the collar, drag him off Emily, and pummel his face with brutal, unforgiving fists. "You've overstepped, Ryan. Emily is mine. Even if I discard her, she'll never be yours to touch," Lucas snapped. His words hung in the air, and the entire room fell silent as if frozen in time. Sophia stared at Lucas in disbelief, wondering where she stood in his life now that he had openly claimed Emily as his woman. All eyes in the room were drawn to the scene. Some watched with malicious delight, while others were simply captivated by the unfolding drama. Doubled over in pain, Sophia felt a warm wetness spreading beneath her. Her face paled as a cold dread gripped her heart. "Honey, my stomach hurts," she turned to Lucas instinctively. "Please, take me to the hospital." Without even glancing her way, Lucas removed his jacket and gently placed it around Emily's shoulders. Nestling into his embrace, Emily whispered, her voice trembling, "Lucas, I'm scared. Please take me away from here." "Don't worry," he murmured, holding her close. "I won't let anyone hurt you." Sweeping Emily into his arms, Lucas carried her out of the room, completely ignoring Sophia's pain-racked form shuddering on the floor. Perched comfortably on his shoulder, Emily gazed down at Sophia's crumpled form on the floor, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. The spectators murmured among themselves, still savoring the drama they'd just witnessed. "Emily's definitely the one for Lucas. He hasn't taken his eyes off her all night." "The way Lucas looks at her... I thought it was hatred, but it's clearly something else entirely." "Who could resist someone like her? I certainly wouldn't be able to stay angry." "Poor Sophia. She was just a side character in their love story." At the mention of Sophia's name, the crowd remembered her presence simultaneously, their attention shifting to where she sat. Sophia was in terrible pain and covered in a cold sweat until someone finally noticed her condition and quickly helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?" the guy asked. She gripped his arm tightly as the room spun around her. "Please take me to the hospital. My stomach hurts terribly," she pleaded. Then everything went dark as she fainted. Through the haze of semi-consciousness, distant screams about blood echoed in her ears. When Sophia regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital room. The sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the air as she lay alone in the quiet ward. A nurse tending to her bandages noticed her awakening. "You're awake," she said softly. Sophia's voice came out weak and fearful. "My baby... Is my baby alright?" "Your baby is fine," the nurse reassured her. "But you'll need to take special care. These first few months are particularly delicate in your condition." Relief washed over Sophia as grateful tears fell. "Thank you," she whispered, overwhelmed that her child was safe. Through the emotional turmoil, Sophia's first thought was to share the news with Lucas immediately. Wiping her tears, she reached for her phone and dialed his number. The phone rang several times before Lucas finally picked up. His voice was edged with impatience as he answered, "Not coming home tonight. Don't wait—" "Lucas, my hair's caught in this zipper," Emily's voice interrupted, floating through the line. "Could you give me a hand?" Sophia's knuckles went white around her phone. "Be right there," he said. The call ended before Sophia could form a response. Overnight, things between her and Lucas had reverted to how they were six months ago. Back then, he'd been all cold shoulders and sharp tones. Even in their most intimate moments, he treated her like just another need to be met. To him, she might as well have been a stranger—or worse, just a convenient body. So when he finally let his guard down, she'd been so grateful for the warmth that she fell harder than she ever meant to. She thought her years of longing had finally paid off. But reality slapped her senseless when Lucas chose Emily's safety over their own child's life. After being discharged from the hospital, Sophia caught a taxi home. Midway through the ride, her phone buzzed with a Twitter alert. It was a tweet from Emily: [You told me you'd hold my hand and never let go—not for the rest of our lives.] The attached photo showed Emily dressed like a princess, complete with a tiny crown, her hand locked tightly with a larger, elegant hand. Around the wrist was a bracelet made of prayer beads—the very one Sophia had prayed for in a church last year, when Lucas was burning up with fever. That day, he squeezed her hand and whispered a promise that he would never leave her side. Chapter 2 Ask Him For A Divorce The taxi stopped outside the Nightfall Estate, where Sophia paid the fare and got out of the vehicle. She was just heading inside when a truck carrying young cherry trees rumbled up the drive and stopped near the garden. Workers carefully unloaded the cherry trees and settled them into the prepared holes. Where a vibrant sea of red roses had bloomed just yesterday, now only upturned earth remained, with the plants piled carelessly to the side. A dull ache spread through Sophia's chest as she gazed at the rose petals strewn like crimson tears across the soil. The familiar purr of a luxury car engine approached from behind. Turning around, Sophia saw Lucas step out of the car. He stood tall and straight, radiating a natural air of calm elegance. "Honey..." Sophia began, but the words died on her lips as he leaned back into the car. With gentle care, he helped a woman step out—it was Emily, who looked radiant in an exquisite designer ensemble that made her complexion glow. Only when Emily was steady did Lucas's gaze finally meet Sophia's, those usually warm eyes now regarding her with detached indifference. "Did you need something?" he asked, his tone flat. The cold unfamiliarity in his look struck Sophia's heart like a physical blow. "Why are you tearing out the roses when they were growing so well?" she asked, desperate for his explanation. Those roses had been his special way of confessing his feelings to her. Lucas barely glanced at the destroyed garden. "Emily's not feeling well. She'll be staying with us for a bit." "What does that have to do with the roses?" she pressed. "She's allergic to the pollen," he said curtly, already turning to guide Emily inside. Sophia stood rooted to the spot, her heart breaking. Emily's delicate voice carried through the air. "Lucas, Sophia seems upset. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have complained about the roses." "She doesn't matter to me," Lucas reassured her. "But I worry she'll resent me. Really, I can manage with allergy medication," Emily offered, her voice dripping with false concern. "Medication always has side effects. Don't suggest things that worry me," he replied. Sophia stood motionless as she watched their figures grow smaller in the distance. A silent tear traced its way down her cheek while overwhelming sorrow washed over her. 'I don't matter to him... Yeah, right,' Sophia murmured with bitter irony, the truth of the words settling like a weight in her heart. He hadn't even asked about her absence last night, and now he had ordered her favorite roses to be torn out. The message was clear—she meant less to him than the slightest thought of Emily. For three years, she had devoted herself to him, offering unwavering love and comfort through difficult times. She had believed her constant warmth could thaw even the coldest heart, but Emily's reappearance had erased everything in an instant. She wondered what their intimacy these past six months had truly meant, and what role she had actually played in his life. A sudden twinge in her lower abdomen made her catch her breath. Pale and unsteady, she turned toward the villa. As Sophia stepped into the living room, she saw Emily nestled against Lucas on the sofa, watching with affectionate amusement as he peeled an orange for her. Lucas gently picked away every bit of white pith from the orange segments before arranging them on a plate for Emily. "For you," he said with a soft smile. "Enjoy, my little foodie." As Emily took the plate, she noticed Sophia entering the room. A triumphant smile graced her lips as she called out, "Sophia, would you like some? Lucas peeled these himself. Something you've never experienced, I'm sure." Sophia's gaze fell upon the perfectly prepared orange segments, and she felt a sudden sting behind her eyes. The painful truth was that in all their time together, Lucas had never once peeled an orange for her. She had always been the one serving him. The realization struck her with perfect clarity—Lucas knew well how to be thoughtful, but he simply reserved his kindness for Emily. Sophia felt her heart breaking into pieces as she finally understood how painful comparison could be. "She's perfectly capable of peeling her own fruit," Lucas said dismissively, barely glancing at Sophia. Then he noticed her pale complexion and added, "Are you alright? You look terribly pale." Sophia's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she debated telling Lucas her secret pregnancy. A fragile hope whispered within her—that this truth might finally soften his heart toward her. "I..." Her voice faltered, the words dying on her lips. "If you're ill, see a doctor. This pathetic act is getting tiresome," Lucas said, impatience flashing across his handsome features. He was annoyed by her wounded expression, which seemed to suggest she was the victim of some terrible injustice. Sophia swallowed her unspoken words, her gaze lingering on the man who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. "I'm fine," she murmured. "I'll just go to my room." As she turned toward the staircase, Lucas felt a surge of irritation. 'I must've been too lenient with her, and now she dared to show me attitude,' he thought, fuming. Sophia had only climbed a few steps when the housekeeper, Wendy, appeared descending the stairs with servants carrying boxes. The items looked familiar, but it was the sight of her stuffed doll in Wendy's arms that made Sophia realize everything they carried was hers. In a swift motion, she stepped forward and snatched the doll. Her voice turned icy as she asked, "Wendy, care to explain this?" "Mr. Westwood's orders," Wendy said quietly. "You're to move to the storage room downstairs." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, leaving her mind reeling. She turned to Lucas, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious." They'd already maintained separate bedrooms, but she never imagined that she'd be banished to a storage room instead of even being offered the guest suite after Emily's return. For a fleeting moment under her gaze, Lucas felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly hardened into resolve. "Emily needs the sunroom for her health," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your room gets the best light. It's better for her recovery." The absurdity of it all drew a bitter laugh from Sophia's lips. She thought his previous cruelty—shoving her while pregnant and replacing her roses with Emily's cherry trees—had been the worst it could get. But this new humiliation surpassed even that. All Lucas had done since Emily's return yesterday was talk about her. In just one day, she had turned Sophia's whole life upside down. Sophia expected to feel rage, but instead found only a hollow emptiness settling in her chest. 'Look at him, Sophia,' Sophia thought bitterly. 'This is the man you gave your heart and soul to. Was any of it worth it?' "If you're so worried about her comfort, why not just move her into your room? The master suite gets the best light anyway," Sophia shot back. Lucas responded sharply, "Sophia, you need to watch your tone." Emily's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I know you don't want me here, Sophia. I'll go. Please don't fight with Lucas over me." Sophia saw right through Emily's act. A humorless laugh escaped her as she spat, "You're not going anywhere. I am." Tightening her grip on the stuffed doll, she turned and headed for the door. "Don't you dare, Sophia." Lucas rose to his feet, his voice cutting through the room. "Walk out that door now, and don't expect to ever come back." Sophia's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "I'll make sure you receive the divorce papers," she said, her voice cold and steady. "See that you sign them." "You're asking me for a divorce?" Lucas's voice was low, thick with barely restrained fury. He added, his tone edged with contempt, "Have you forgotten who gave you this life, Sophia? The luxury, the status—all of it came from me. Without my name, you're just that wide-eyed girl fresh off that forgotten little town. You don't get to leave." Chapter 3 The Replaced Medical Result Sophia didn't need to look back to know the condescending smirk that was surely on Lucas's face. She knew he had always despised her. His proposal three years ago had been motivated only by a desire to fulfill the marriage agreement between their families and to exact revenge on Emily. She had been naive enough to believe his empty promises, offering him her genuine love when he saw her as nothing more than a pawn. To him, she would always be a leech, clinging to his wealth and name for survival. But now, she had reached her limit, and she no longer wanted him in her life. Sophia walked out without a backward glance. As she stepped through the gateway, the sound of shattering porcelain echoed behind her, but she no longer cared. Lucas stood amid the shattered remains, fingers pressed to his temples. His face was a mask of simmering anger. He dismissed the mention of divorce as just another one of her calculated moves, a transparent attempt to get his attention by pulling away. Emily watched him hesitantly. "Maybe I shouldn't be staying here, Lucas. Sophia seemed really upset." "It's nothing," Lucas replied evenly. Seeing how the mention of divorce had affected him, she suggested softly, "You could go after her. Women usually respond well to a little reassurance." "I don't have time for that," Lucas said, turning toward the staircase. With a business trip looming, his mind was elsewhere. 'Let her make a scene if she wants to,' he thought. 'She'll cool off and come crawling back. She always does.' ***** Sophia's home was a beautiful 3,200-square-foot apartment with an open-concept layout and sleek modern decor—all paid for with her own earnings. In her study, she printed the divorce papers and a letter resigning from her position. With a steady hand, she signed both, and then summoned a courier to deliver them directly to the Westwood Group. When she married Lucas three years ago, Sophia had joined his company, hoping to build a genuine connection with him. She started at the very bottom as an assistant and gradually earned her way up to department manager. She had wanted nothing more than to be close to him—in their home and at work. But in the end, her efforts were met with cold indifference. Gazing downward, Sophia softly cradled her stomach. "It's just us now, little one," she whispered. The courier arrived at Westwood headquarters while Lucas was away. His chief executive assistant, Kevin Chapman, received the delivery and signed. The moment Kevin saw the contents, he reached for the phone, dialing Lucas's number in haste. "Mr. Westwood, your wife has sent divorce documents." "Burn it all." On the other side of the ocean, Lucas loosened his tie as an unexpected wave of irritation came over him. "But Mrs. Westwood has even submitted her resignation letter..." Kevin replied, his tone hesitant. "She can't survive without this family." The blue flame from Lucas's lighter highlighted the grim set of his features. "Let her be. She'll come crawling back once reality sets in." Meanwhile, Sophia remained completely unaware of his words. Her morning had begun with a call from her mother-in-law, Helen Westwood. "Where are you? Return at once," Helen commanded in her typically imperious manner, leaving no room for discussion. Complying, Sophia drove back to the estate. No sooner had she stepped inside than a velvet box came hurling toward her head, which she narrowly avoided by stepping aside. Helen's shrill voice pierced the air. "How dare you avoid that? You've got some nerve." Sophia's gaze fell upon the velvet box at her feet, and suddenly, she understood why it seemed familiar. She remembered purchasing that exact box to store her pregnancy test results. On Lucas's birthday, she had intended to present it to him as a gift, but he had accidentally pushed her before she could give it to him, resulting in her hospitalization. Her heart leaped as she turned to face Helen's livid expression. 'Could she know about the pregnancy? But something about her reaction seems strange,' she wondered. For three years, Helen had made no secret of her disapproval of Sophia, someone raised in a small town. Yet every time Sophia visited the Westwood residence with Lucas, Helen would consistently nag Sophia about starting a family soon. If Helen knew Sophia was pregnant, she was supposed to be absolutely delighted instead of reacting like this. Helen clutched a medical report, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared down Sophia. "For three years, I've watched your marriage to Lucas, wondering why you never conceived. Now I understand—he married a barren woman. "If you hadn't left this at the hotel and Lucas's friend hadn't been kind enough to deliver it, I'd still be in the dark about your condition." Heart pounding with shock, Sophia ignored Helen's murderous gaze and snatched the document from her hand. The clinical report lay cold and pale in the morning light. There was her name, clearly printed, alongside the devastating diagnosis: "permanent infertility." 'Permanent infertility? But that's impossible. I'm pregnant. Someone must have switched my test results. But who would do such a thing?' Sophia wondered. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "This isn't my..." Emily, who had remained silent until now, suddenly interrupted, "Sophia, the Westwood lineage has been passed down through a single heir for ten generations. Are you trying to ensure Lucas dies without an heir? To extinguish the family line completely?" "How utterly heartless!" Helen exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Sophia as her anger reached its peak. "We've welcomed you with open arms since you married into this family. Yet you've been hiding this from us? To think you'd let our family line die out—it's truly despicable!" she added. Sophia didn't even attempt to explain herself. If they wanted to believe she was barren, so be it—it would only simplify the divorce proceedings. "I only received the results two days ago. I hadn't found the right moment to share the news," Sophia replied, her voice calm. "This wasn't about finding the right moment. You did this intentionally," Helen retorted, her face contorted with rage. "And you planned to give this to Lucas as a gift? What kind of twisted mind would conceive such a thing?" Sophia maintained her silence. Helen took a measured breath, forcing her anger down. "If you can't conceive naturally, I won't hold it against you. I've spoken with Emily, and she's agreed to donate her eggs so you and Lucas can pursue in vitro fertilization." Sophia stared in disbelief at the unexpected turn. "Could you repeat that?" She believed she had misheard because the suggestion was both preposterous and deeply offensive. "If you can't conceive, that's your problem. Emily is being extraordinarily generous by offering her eggs. The least you could do is show some appreciation instead of this ingratitude," Helen sneered. A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. "Perhaps you'd like to accept this generous offer yourself?" "How dare you speak to me like that!" Helen's eyes flashed with fury. "Sophia, you shouldn't speak to Mrs. Westwood that way. She was suggesting that for your sake," Emily said in a honeyed tone, reaching for the glass. As she moved, she made certain to display the prayer beads circling her delicate wrist. Sophia's breath caught—she would recognize the bracelet anywhere. That was the very ones she had sacrificed so much to obtain while praying for Lucas's recovery. It felt like a personal insult, seeing the bracelet that symbolized her love for Lucas now clasped around Emily's wrist. "For my sake?" Sophia repeated, the words tasting bitter as she caught the sly glint of satisfaction in Emily's eyes. It sent a sharp ache through her. She knew this game all too well. Emily had a gift for twisting people's vulnerabilities to her advantage, a lesson Sophia had learned the hard way three years ago. "I'm infertile. What possible use could I have for your eggs?" Sophia asked, her voice cold. "Do you really think I need a constant reminder of what I can't have?" Emily's smile vanished. For Helen's benefit, she bit her lip, her eyes instantly welling with feigned hurt. "Mrs. Westwood," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "I was only trying to help Sophia." Helen immediately comforted Emily by patting her hand. She then shot Sophia a disapproving look. "How can you be so selfish, Sophia? Are you really determined to let the Westwood family line die out?" Sophia gestured dismissively toward Emily. "Well, if she's so fertile, let her handle the baby-making." The thought of Emily getting to be a mother the easy way turned Sophia's stomach. Chapter 4 Take Back Her Things The color drained from both Helen's and Emily's faces. Helen stepped forward, jabbing a finger toward Sophia. "You think you're better than us? Then you give the Westwood family an heir. Don't blame anyone else for your own useless womb." Sophia bit back the sharp retort on her tongue. She was done with this family, done with Lucas. Arguing now would only prolong the inevitable. "Mrs. Westwood," she began, "I've decided—" Lucas's familiar, deep voice cut through the tension from the doorway. "Decided what?" Sophia turned to see Lucas standing there, his clothes rumpled from travel. His assistant, Kevin, hovered behind him with a suitcase in hand. The air in the room was thick with tension, so Kevin knew better than to stay. He simply left the suitcase by the door and made a quick exit. Loosening his tie, Lucas turned to Helen. "Mom, what brings you here?" "If I hadn't come, you'd have let our family name die out," Helen shot back. She then snatched the medical report from Sophia and flung it at Lucas's chest. "See for yourself," she said coldly, and with that, she swept out of the room. Lucas looked down at the document in his hands, and the words "permanent infertility" caused a faint twitch in his brow. His eyes, when they finally lifted to meet Sophia's, were devoid of warmth. "You'll go back to the hospital tomorrow for a full work-up. I will not have a wife who can't give me an heir." A hollow ache spread through Sophia's chest. Any foolish hope she'd been clinging to finally faded. Lucas had never defended her in three years of his mother's constant belittlement. And now, the ease with which he believed this lie revealed the chilling truth of his character. "I have the divorce papers right here," Sophia said, pulling the documents from her bag. She extended them toward him, her voice steady. "Just sign them, and you'll never have to see me again." Lucas didn't even look at the papers. In one swift motion, his hand closed around her throat, pulling her close. He leaned in until his face was mere inches from hers, and she could feel his warm breath and smell the familiar scent of his cologne. There was a time when this closeness would have made her heart flutter. Now, it only made her skin crawl. It was amazing how easy it was to walk away when all the love had drained away. "Sophia, have I been too soft with you?" Lucas's voice was thick with contempt. "Where exactly do you think you'll go without my protection?" She held his gaze without flinching. "That's really none of your concern anymore." "Still got that sharp tongue," he sneered. He released her with a dismissive shove, as if her defiance meant nothing. "Go make me dinner. I'm hungry." A wave of pain shot through Sophia's lower abdomen as she sank into the sofa, her skin turning clammy with an instant, cold sweat. Across the room, Emily slid her arm through Lucas's with practiced ease. "Don't let Sophia bother you," she murmured. "Her little scene was just a cry for your attention." Lucas pulled his tie free, his stern expression melting away as he focused on Emily. "How are you holding up?" he asked, his tone gentler. "I'm fine," she sighed, putting on a pitiful face. "It's just that the medicine is so awfully bitter." "It's bitter because it's strong. You need to keep taking it," he reminded her. "I picked up those candies you like. They're in my suitcase. Go get them yourself." "I know you always look out for me," Emily said, stretching up to press a light kiss to Lucas's cheek. "Consider that your reward." A look of quiet satisfaction crossed his features at the gesture. "I'm going up to shower," he said. "Go ahead," Emily said sweetly, fluttering a wave at him. She waited until Lucas's footsteps faded up the staircase before turning to the suitcase. They carried on as if Sophia weren't standing right there in the same room. Humming cheerfully, Emily unzipped the luggage. Alongside Lucas's neatly folded clothes sat a jar of shimmering candies and an elegant red velvet box that clearly held something valuable. Her eyes skipped over the candy, going straight to the velvet box. When she lifted the lid, a pink diamond necklace lay gleaming, its facets scattering rainbows in the light. "Oh, it's exquisite. I love it," she whispered, her eyes widening. "So the candy was just a decoy. This necklace is what he really wanted me to find." Draping the necklace against her collarbone, Emily turned to face Sophia, who had risen from the sofa. "Well, Sophia? Don't you think it suits me perfectly?" The pink diamond necklace around Emily's neck struck Sophia as oddly familiar. It came to her a moment later—she had coveted it last month while flipping through a magazine. Lucas had seen her fascination and promised to get it for her. The catch was its exclusivity—a single piece, sourced from Melaria, the country where Lucas had been attending to business. "That was for me," Sophia said, her voice calm. The man was disposable, but her possessions were not. She would reclaim what was rightfully hers. With a swift motion, Emily clasped the necklace. "Finders keepers," she said with a mocking grin. Sophia approached for a closer look. Though the necklace was more exquisite than its photograph, any desire for it had vanished. A wary look crossed Emily's face. "What is this about?" "To take what belongs to me, of course," Sophia said, stepping close and extending her hand. "It's time you returned it." Emily's hands instinctively flew to the diamond necklace at her throat. "Lucas will never stand for this, Sophia. You know what I mean to him." Sophia almost laughed. She knew well that Emily held a special place in Lucas's heart. But that was irrelevant. She was only claiming what was hers. "Give the bracelet back to me," Sophia said coldly. It was a token earned through true devotion, and she wouldn't let its significance be tarnished. Realizing Sophia only wanted the simple bracelet, Emily smiled condescendingly. 'Some shortsighted people have no taste,' she thought. Emily twisted the bracelet around her wrist. "I heard you went to Grace Abbey to beg for this good-luck charm," she said. "You are so hung up on him, aren't you?" The hypocrisy of her words was almost laughable. "Give it back," Sophia said, her voice like ice. Emily's eyes flickered to a point behind Sophia, and a sly smile touched her lips. She lowered her voice. "If you want it so badly, why don't you come and take it?" Sophia didn't stop to think. She grabbed Emily's wrist and tugged the bracelet free. The moment it was off, Emily's demeanor shifted completely. "Sophia, what are you doing?" she cried out, her voice suddenly loud and panicked. "Lucas gave this to me." Before Sophia could even turn around, a powerful hand seized her by the collar and hauled her backwards. The fabric dug sharply into her throat, stealing her breath. Stumbling to regain her footing, Sophia looked up to see Lucas. He was already cradling Emily. "Emily, are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern. Emily buried her face in his chest. "I'm fine," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Please, don't be angry with Sophia. She didn't mean it." Lucas's jaw tightened, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. He took a deep breath and fixed Sophia with an icy stare. "Apologize to Emily." Chapter 5 She Wants A Clean Break A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. She had fooled herself into thinking she was numb to Lucas's coldness. But his command still sent a fresh, sharp pain through her chest. She knew there was no point arguing with a man who had already chosen the other woman's side. "I won't apologize," Sophia said, her fist closing tightly around the bracelet. "What for?" Emily looked up at Lucas with well-practiced vulnerability. "I'm causing trouble here, Lucas. I should go." Lucas caught her wrist before she could take a second step. "You're staying right here." His attention snapped back to Sophia, his expression darkening. "Now, Sophia, apologize to Emily." The room blurred as tears filled Sophia's eyes, twisting his familiar face into a stranger's. She lifted the simple bracelet between them. "This is my stuff in the first place. Since when is taking back what was stolen a crime?" "Your stuff? Since when do you have anything of your own?" Lucas's lips curled in a sneer. "I've paid for every stitch of clothing on your back." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, forcing a bitter laugh from her lips. He knew perfectly well she earned her own living, yet he took every opportunity to demean her. "This bracelet came from Grace Abbey," she countered, her voice trembling. "You didn't pay a cent for it." Lucas's eyes dropped to the simple beads in her palm. "You think I care about some cheap bracelet?" he scoffed. Hot tears streamed down Sophia's face without warning. Wiping them away, Sophia made a silent vow—this would be the last time he reduced her to this. "Fine!" With one sharp motion, she snapped the bracelet's cord, sending beads skittering across the floor. Lucas watched the scattered beads come to rest, his hand curling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. He knew how much that bracelet meant to her, but the moment Emily wanted it, he didn't hesitate to take it off and hand it over. Lucas's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "Sophia!" "I want a divorce," Sophia said, her voice eerily calm. As she opened her hand, the last bead from the bracelet clattered onto the floor between them. "Let's just end this." The sound was small, but in the tense silence, it was deafening, echoing in Lucas's mind. He let out a short laugh, his gaze locked on her. "You think a threat will work? You should know better than that by now." 'This has to be a ploy,' he thought to himself. 'She loves me too much to go through with it. She has accepted her role as Emily's replacement from the beginning and has never once tried to leave. 'She would never have the strength to walk away from me.' "Go make us something to eat, and we can forget this ever happened." Lucas was certain he had thrown Sophia a lifeline. He waited, fully expecting her to be overcome with relief and scurry off to the kitchen. He'd been away on business, and days of unfamiliar rich food had left his stomach unsettled. What he craved was Sophia's cooking—simple, hearty food that tasted like home. It was a flavor he couldn't find anywhere else. "You can go eat your ass," Sophia shot back. She picked up her bag, her lips twisting into a scornful smile, and walked out without a backward glance. That smile grated on Lucas's nerves more than the insult itself. In his frustration, his eyes fell on the string of prayer beads lying scattered on the floor, and he gave them an impatient kick. 'So that's her game. She wants to challenge me? I'd like to see just how long her resolve will hold,' he thought, fuming. ***** Sophia sped away from Nightfall Estate, her phone buzzing relentlessly on the passenger seat. Lucas's name flashed across the screen again and again until she finally grabbed it and blocked his number for good. When she looked up at the road, she blinked, her vision blurring for a moment. She braced for the familiar sting of tears, but when her fingers touched her skin, it was dry. It was only then that she noticed the soft patter against the windshield. A fine drizzle had begun to fall, and a quiet melancholy settled over her, as gray as the sky. Up ahead, the flickering hazard lights of a sleek black car broke the rhythm of the rain. A man in a soaked suit, looking to be in his forties, stood beside it, waving frantically at passing traffic. Almost without conscious thought, Sophia found herself flipping on her turn signal and pulling over. She rolled down her window as the man rushed over. "Everything okay?" she asked. "It's my boss," the man said, his voice tight with panic. "He's having a heart attack. The ambulance is stuck in a multi-car accident. Please, can you take us to the hospital?" Sophia hesitated. Letting two strange men into her car, especially in this weather, felt dangerous. Every cautionary tale she'd ever heard flashed through her mind. Seeing her hesitation, the man added urgently, "I promise we're not dangerous. My boss is—" But Sophia was already moving, cutting the engine and stepping out into the downpour. "Just get him to my car, now," she called out as she rushed toward their vehicle. As she got closer, she recognized the distinctive emblem of the black Maybach. Working together, they carefully transferred the elderly man from the luxury sedan into Sophia's more modest car. The old man's lips were tinged with blue, and each ragged breath seemed like a struggle, clear signs of his critical condition. Sliding behind the wheel, Sophia started the car and pulled back onto the road, pushing through the veils of rain. In the backseat, the middle-aged man was a whirlwind of activity on his phone, coordinating with a hospital and alerting the family. Beyond the windows, the storm seemed to intensify, as if trying to match the urgency inside the car. After ensuring everything was in place, the man turned to Sophia with heartfelt appreciation. "You're the only one who stopped in this downpour. We can't thank you enough." A warm smile touched Sophia's lips. "Some things are just meant to be." ***** Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital entrance where medical staff stood ready. The team swiftly transferred the elderly man to a stretcher and hurried him inside for emergency care. Just as Sophia was about to drive away, she spotted a lone leather shoe in the backseat—the one the elderly man had been wearing. After a moment's hesitation, she parked properly and carried the shoe to the reception desk, logging it as a lost item. Sophia was just turning to leave when a group emerged from the hospital's main entrance. At the front of the group was a man whose height and posture commanded attention. He turned his sharp gaze on her, and the intensity in his eyes was so commanding that it felt like a physical pressure. 'That frown means trouble,' Sophia thought. She averted her gaze and continued walking, brushing past the group without a second look. It wasn't until she was back in the driver's seat that she felt the chill of her wet clothes clinging to her skin. As she dried her hair with a towel from the backseat, a notification popped up on her phone while she was opening the navigation app. It was a post from Emily: [Nothing says 'forever' like a soft-boiled egg made with love! My ultimate comfort food.] The post featured two photos—one showed a soft-boiled egg with a ketchup heart, and the other captured a tall man's back as he stood at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Sophia couldn't help but compare. When she was with Lucas, he had acted like even pouring her a glass of water was a significant concession. Cooking a meal was utterly out of the question. The fact that he was now cooking for Emily spoke volumes about where his true affections lay. She closed the page and entered her apartment address into the navigation system before driving out of the parking lot. As she watched the heavy rain outside, a single decisive thought crystallized in her mind—this marriage was over. Chapter 6 Return The Trash To The Dumpster That evening, a text came through from Annabelle Quinn, Sophia's best friend since college, insisting they go out to a lounge. The old Sophia would have declined immediately, conditioned to obey Lucas's rule about her not going out. But now that Sophia was divorcing him, his opinions held no weight. ***** The moment Sophia stepped out of the car, she saw Annabelle waiting by the entrance. "Hope you haven't been waiting long," she said as she approached. "Just got here," Annabelle grinned, looping her arm through Sophia's. "So, what's the special occasion? Did you finally get a night off from your sweetheart?" Sophia struggled to find the words, but she couldn't keep it from her best friend. "I'm getting a divorce," she finally said. "Let me guess," Annabelle said, not one to mince words in front of her best friend. "This is about Emily being back, isn't it?" "It's not just that," Sophia admitted, her voice quiet. It just took seeing the difference for herself to truly see how little her three years of effort had meant. Annabelle threw a supportive arm around Sophia's shoulders. "You should have woken up to this a long time ago." For three years, she had watched Sophia lose herself in a hollow relationship, and it killed Annabelle to see her friend throw everything away for a man who never appreciated her. "Better late than never," Sophia offered with a weak smile. "Damn right it is," Annabelle declared. "Tonight, I'm getting us the best male models in town. You deserve some real attention." They ascended into the pulsating heart of the club, pushing through the glittering crowd toward the exclusive booth Annabelle had booked. As they moved past the entrance to a private booth, a burst of laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway. Amid the noise, Sophia's own name caught her sharp ear. "Got to hand it to Lucas. The minute Emily was back, he moved her right in. Word is, he showed Sophia the door." "Well, she had it coming. Play the simp, and you lose it all. Seriously though, that night in the booth with all the blood? I truly thought a tragedy had occurred, but it was probably just her period." "You're thinking about that? Man, have you had a thing for Sophia all along?" "Who'd pine after some nobody from a backwater? Only Lucas, with his unique preferences, would stick around for three years." "Guess the novelty wore off. Time for a change." Standing in the hallway, Sophia felt a cold stillness settle behind her eyes. The voices clicked into place—Lucas's oldest friends. They had been there that night, spectators to her most shameful moment. Annabelle's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind." But as she moved toward the door, Sophia stopped her with a gentle hand. "This is my battle to fight," Sophia said firmly. With that, Sophia pushed the door open and swept into the room. She settled gracefully onto the sofa, joining their conversation with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you're talking about unique preferences, I top him," she began, her voice deceptively light, "I recycled what Emily threw away. But it looks like I did everyone a favor by returning the trash to the dumpster where it belongs." A stunned silence fell over the room. Every face on the circular sofa stared at her in horrified fascination. Unbeknownst to Sophia, two figures had entered the room behind her during her speech. The guests' eyes darted nervously between Sophia and the newcomers, the air thickening with tension. There stood Lucas and Emily, their expressions dark as storm clouds. Their presence made Sophia turn. Her eyes instantly met the cold, dark stare of Lucas. But she didn't back down. A defiant shrug lifted her shoulders. "Look what the cat dragged in. My trash husband." Emily's eyes instantly glistened with tears. "Sophia, ignore them," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "It's all lies. Lucas and I are just friends." As if to prove her point, she clutched Lucas's arm. "Tell her, Lucas. Make her understand there's nothing going on between us." Sophia's gaze dropped to the hand clinging to Lucas's arm, and a faint, derisive smile touched her mouth. 'Just friends? Did she really expect anyone to believe that?' she thought bitterly. Lucas detached himself from Emily's grip and closed the distance between him and Sophia. The motion broke the tension, stirring his friends into action. "Hey, Lucas, take it easy," one of them said, stepping forward. "She's just reacting to our stupid jokes." "Come on, Sophia, just say you're sorry to Lucas," another one urged. "You know he'll forgive you." The suggestion made Sophia want to laugh bitterly. 'Is this really how they see me? As some lovesick fool who'd come crawling back at the first sign of forgiveness?' she thought. It explained everything—why, for three years, they had shown her phony respect as Lucas's wife while mocking her devotion in private. She had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn't met Lucas seven years ago, if that fateful incident hadn't tied her to him, she would have moved on with her life long ago. "Are you quite done?" Lucas's voice cut through her thoughts as he reached for her arm. She shifted her weight gracefully, letting his hand close on empty air. The rejected gesture hung between them for a beat too long before he withdrew, his features tightening with displeasure. Turning to Emily, who was now dabbing at her eyes, Sophia arched a brow. "There's no need for the waterworks. You're making it look like I'm the one being cruel here." "Sophia, I've treated you like my elder sister. I—" Emily began, trying to defend herself. "Don't," Sophia interrupted, her voice cool. "We arrived minutes apart, and you were first. Let's skip the emotional act." Emily's face turned from pale to deep red as she clenched her jaw in fury. 'Since when has Sophia found this kind of nerve? She used to shrink into silence whenever Lucas was near,' she thought. Despite her three-year absence from the city, Emily had ensured she received every scrap of information about Sophia's life. She knew all about Sophia's pathetic attempts to please Lucas, and she knew exactly how little he cared for his wife. She even knew they kept separate bedrooms, and that on the occasional night Lucas spent with Sophia, he always sent her back to her own room afterward. She knew that to Lucas, Sophia was just a body—convenient, disposable, and utterly unimportant. With a dark expression, Lucas grabbed Sophia's wrist and began pulling her toward the exit. Sophia's answer was a sharp, stinging slap across his cheek. The sound cracked through the air, and a dead silence fell over the room. All eyes were fixed on Sophia in pure shock. Everyone was wondering if she had lost her mind to dare something like that. Lucas slowly worked his jaw, the look in his eyes so dark that it promised retribution. When Sophia resisted, Lucas didn't hesitate. He swept her up onto his shoulder and carried her out of the room. The sight made Emily's heart clench. She'd never seen Lucas be so patient with anyone. Before she knew it, her hand was on his arm. "Lucas..." He didn't turn his head, but some of the tension left his expression. "I'm taking her home," he said firmly. "The driver will return for you when you're ready." Emily could only watch as Lucas walked away with Sophia. She had no right to stop him, but it stung—this was the first time he'd ever left her for another woman, especially one who meant nothing. Her hands tightened at her sides. 'I gave you a chance to walk away quietly, Sophia. You brought this on yourself,' she thought. Sophia's protests echoed down the hallway as she struggled against Lucas's hold. Unsure what was happening between the couple, Annabelle turned away, pretending she hadn't noticed them. Lucas carried Sophia into the elevator and stepped out briskly when it reached the basement level. As the car door opened, Lucas tossed Sophia into the back seat. Struggling upright, she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea from the prolonged time she'd spent upside down. She opened her mouth to curse, but the words died on her lips as the tinted window of a nearby Maybach began to descend. In the shadowy interior, the man's profile was sharp and forbidding. His lips were set in a firm line, and he sat with the imposing stillness of an iceberg, his presence pushing others away. Sensing her gaze, he glanced over, and their eyes locked. Without a word, Sophia averted her gaze and hid her face behind a veil of tangled hair. Chapter 7 Not Her Home Anymore Lucas's black Bentley pulled out of the underground parking garage, but Sophia was still lost in thought about those intense eyes. There was something familiar about them, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen them before. Lucas's voice broke the silence. "Did you follow me here? What are you so concerned about?" "What?" Sophia asked, snapping back to reality. Keeping his eyes on the road, Lucas tried to explain. "You know how my friends are—they never think before they speak. Don't take their words seriously. There's nothing going on between Emily and me." 'If there's really nothing between them, why was he being so protective? He only rushed me out because he was worried I might cause a scene and embarrass Emily,' Sophia thought. "Sure," Sophia said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You and Emily are completely innocent." "I'm trying to explain myself here," Lucas said, his patience wearing thin. "Do you have to be so sarcastic?" Her ungrateful attitude was beginning to irritate him. He remembered how she used to soften at the slightest reassurance. Now, it seemed her patience had worn thin. "Understood," Sophia said, her tone flat. "Is that all?" "I've been clear from the beginning—you are my wife, and that won't change. But if you want this marriage to work, you need to drop your little tricks. I won't play these games." Sophia stayed quiet, struck by his assumption that her mention of divorce was merely a plea for attention. Her silence tightened the air between them. "Don't become someone I resent, Sophia," he said with a frown, his voice low. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips as she turned toward the window, shutting him out completely. Sensing he had pushed too far, Lucas eased his tone. "I had your things moved back to our room. If you want to stay with me, just say so. There's no need for all this." Sophia was left speechless. ***** As the car came to a stop in the courtyard of Nightfall Estate, Sophia stepped out. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the cherry blossom grove in the garden. The sight sent a sharp pang through her chest. She forced her gaze away and continued into the villa. Inside, the decor had been completely redone. The new style, with its unmistakable resemblance to the Evans residence, clearly revealed who had overseen the renovations. She moved through rooms that felt entirely alien to her now, but she kept her thoughts to herself since this was no longer her home. Wendy looked surprised when she saw Sophia. "Mrs. Westwood, you've returned. Have you had your supper?" Sinking into the plush pink sofa, Sophia answered quietly, "Yes, thank you." Wendy offered a tight smile before retreating to her quarters to make a hurried phone call to Helen, reporting the unexpected arrival. Helen had never approved of Sophia, whom she saw as a plain nobody not good enough for her son. The infertility diagnosis hardened Helen's resolve to rush the divorce so Lucas could marry someone worthy of giving her grandchildren. The news of Sophia's sudden return after her dramatic departure kept Helen tossing and turning all night. Lucas had been certain Sophia would confront him about the complete makeover of their home. He stood ready to smooth things over, but she walked through the rooms without comment, her silence leaving him more unsettled than any argument would have. "If the decor isn't to your taste..." Lucas moved to sit beside her, his arms beginning to encircle her. Sophia reached for a throw pillow, tucking it between them as she shifted away from his embrace. The gentle rejection stung, though Lucas reassured himself that this was the same woman who had always adored him. "It's true. I prefer my original choices," she said calmly. "Can you have everything returned to how it was?" The warm, elegant furnishings had vanished, replaced by the overwhelming pinks that Emily favored—a transformation that had turned their home into something resembling a kitschy boutique hotel. Lucas shifted uncomfortably. "Let's not make a big deal out of it. You'll get used to the way things are around here." A faint, knowing smile curved on Sophia's lips as she met his gaze. That smile never failed to get under his skin. "Try to see it from her perspective, Sophia," he said, his voice tightening. "After everything she's been through these past three years, all Emily wants is to feel like she belongs." A wave of exhaustion washed over her. It was like talking to a brick wall. "I know," she said flatly. "You have your entire family backing you up," Lucas shot back, his patience clearly wearing thin. "But Emily? She has nobody else. Is it really so hard for you to be a little more compassionate?" "Funny," Sophia replied, her tone icy. "I was under the impression my adoptive parents were still very much alive." Besides, the Evans family had never once ceased to think about Emily throughout those three years. They made trip after trip to Felarica to celebrate Emily's birthdays and attend her parties. They even missed Sophia's wedding to Lucas because of her. A single social media post from Emily, complaining of her loneliness in Felarica, was all it took for them to drop everything and fly to her side. "Now that you've made it out of that dead-end town, you should be the last person to let Emily sink into it," he shot back. As Sophia looked at him, the last glimmer of hope in her eyes vanished. She knew well enough to stop mentioning divorce. To Lucas, it was just another act—proof that she was the same desperate woman the world thought her to be. If she couldn't get through to Lucas, she was going to find another path. Now, with her infertility diagnosis, she knew Helen would be far more impatient to act on this news. Sophia retreated to the master bedroom. Her possessions had claimed their space, with her clothes occupying half of the vast closet. A sense of normalcy had finally settled between her and Lucas, the kind that belongs to a husband and wife. But it was a fragile peace, already beginning to fray. Lucas was still in the living room when Emily returned. The air around her carried the sharp tang of liquor. Her face was deeply flushed, and she swayed slightly as she walked. He was at her side in an instant, his hand gently steadying her. "You've had far too much to drink," he murmured, his brow furrowed with worry. "This isn't good for you. I don't want to see you like this again." Emily turned into him, her arms finding their way around his neck. "I couldn't help it," she whispered, her voice thick with drink and emotion. "It's the only thing that dulls the ache." Sensing her legs might give way, he simply gathered her into his arms. "Wendy," he said to the housekeeper who had appeared, heading for the stairs. "Would you bring up some electrolyte water for Emily?" "Understood," Wendy replied. Playing the part of the drunken mess, Emily clung to Lucas and sobbed into his chest. "I've always regretted it," she cried. "Letting my pride push you away was the biggest mistake of my life." A long-buried tenderness tugged at Lucas's heart. "Let's try again, Lucas. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice," she whispered, tilting her face up to his. Just as their lips were about to meet, the master bedroom door swung open, and the sudden movement startled the couple in the hallway. Sophia stood in the doorway in her pajamas, watching them with a completely expressionless face. Lucas instantly snapped back to reality, and a rare look of panic flashed across his handsome face. "Sophie, Emily is drunk," he said quickly. "I'm just taking her back to her room." Still draped around him, Emily met Sophia's eyes over Lucas's shoulder. The tears were gone, replaced by a cool, triumphant smirk that held no trace of intoxication. Sophia's mouth curved into a humorless smile as she replied, "Yes, and you're drunk too." Without another word, she stepped back and slammed the door, the turn of the lock echoing decisively behind her. The idea of sleeping next to Lucas made her blood boil. She honestly didn't trust herself to lie beside him all night without her rage getting the better of her. Chapter 8 Divorce Settlement The next morning, as Sophia left her room, the guest room door across the hall opened at the exact same time. Lucas was stepping out, finishing with his tie. He glanced up and went completely still, finding Sophia already watching him from their bedroom doorway. Surprise flashed across his face, and he started with an explanation. "She was a mess last night," he said, his voice low. "I couldn't just leave her." Sophia's eyes dropped to the bright red smudge on his collar. Her eyes were filled with silent scorn as she thought about how filthy it was. She said with icy calm, "Relax, I know perfectly well that nothing would ever happen between you two, even when you don't have a stitch of clothing on." Her words cut off whatever excuse Lucas was about to offer. Anger darkened his features. "Think what you want," he snapped. "My feelings for her are purely brotherly." Sophia's eyes fell to the lipstick stain on his collar again. "So, how does it feel to be so close to your 'sister'?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Following her line of sight, Lucas saw the evidence, and a shadow of guilt crossed his face. "It was an accident," he insisted, his voice tight. "Don't make it sound so sordid." "So filthy," she murmured, shaking her head. As he drew a sharp breath to retaliate, she added with a cold smile, "I mean your shirt." He stared at her, his expression turning to stone. She merely offered a careless shrug and walked away, leaving him fuming in the hallway. Downstairs, Sophia was halfway through her breakfast when her phone vibrated on the table. A quick glance at the screen confirmed it was Helen calling. Just then, Wendy appeared with two additional breakfast plates. Sophia swiped to answer the call, a deliberate smile directed at Wendy. "You're calling so early, Mrs. Westwood." The pointed smile made Wendy's blood run cold, and at the mention of Mrs. Westwood, she was reminded of betraying Sophia by reporting to Helen last night. Stricken with guilt, she almost fumbled the tray. She dropped the plates onto the table and hastily retreated to the safety of the kitchen. A faint, cold smile touched Sophia's lips as Helen's venomous voice filled her ear. "Utterly devoid of manners," Helen sneered. "What else can you expect from someone with such a common background?" Sophia's eyes turned to ice. "Trace any lineage back three generations, Mrs. Westwood, and you'll find humble roots. It's distasteful to scorn your own origins." Helen found herself at a loss for words. Though Lucas's parents both had city roots, his grandparents' generation had all struggled in a backwater. Helen's parents had even lived in a cowshed. So in that regard, Helen was no better than Sophia. "That sharp tongue of yours is exactly why people can't stand you," Helen shot back. Sophia rolled her eyes in contempt. Biting back her anger, Helen forced a calmer tone. "We need to meet. There's a document for you to sign." "What kind of document?" "It'll be clear when you get here." Letting the matter drop, Sophia hung up. As she did, she saw Lucas descending the staircase. He had showered and changed, his hair perfectly styled like a model from the pages of a magazine. She had to admit, he was pleasing to look at. 'With those looks, he certainly has the assets for a career as a gigolo,' Sophia thought wryly. A smug feeling warmed Lucas as her eyes stayed on him. He drew out the chair next to hers and sat down. "Paliston Fashion Week is just around the corner," he offered. "It'll be a good chance for us to get away." In three years of marriage, it was the first time he had ever proposed such a thing. Sophia acknowledged him with a quiet hum, but she felt no spark of happiness or expectation. She saw the offer for what it was—a peace offering, born of the guilt he carried after his betrayal. Her ride showed up shortly after breakfast. Picking up her bag, Sophia walked out the door.
Chapter 1 His First Love Returned Sophia Evans could feel her world beginning to crack the moment she heard the news—the woman her husband, Lucas Westwood, had never gotten over was back. When Sophia arrived at the hotel's VIP suite with a gift, she found Lucas's first love—Emily Evans—being humiliated by his childhood friends. "Lick the wine off my shoe, Emily. I'll give you thirty thousand dollars," one of them said. Emily was forced to kneel on the floor, tears in her defiant eyes as she stared shamefully at Lucas. Lucas watched with a dark expression, saying nothing as he held his temper in check. Sophia halted mid-step, struck by the painful familiarity of the scene. Three years ago, when she had first been welcomed into the Evans family, these same privileged young men had tormented her in exactly the same way to gain Emily's favor. But back then, Lucas hadn't worn this expression of utter heartbreak. "There you are," Lucas said as soon as he spotted Sophia, his arm sliding around her waist in a show of intimacy. Only Sophia could feel the desperate pressure of his grip—a silent testament to the pain he was trying to conceal. Lucas's childhood friends had reserved the entire venue for his birthday celebration. But Sophia had never expected Emily to show up here. Everyone knew Lucas had married Sophia just to spite Emily. Three years ago, Emily's identity as a fake heiress was exposed. She broke up with Lucas then and there and left the Evans family behind. Lucas pursued her to the airport, boarded her departing flight, and forced the plane that had already taken off to turn back. Right there on that plane, he proposed to Emily. To his complete surprise, Emily refused without hesitation, declaring that the arranged marriage should be honored by the Evans family's true heiress. Humiliated and acting out of spite, Lucas married Sophia instead. For three years, Sophia had lived as Emily's stand-in. Everyone whispered that if Emily ever returned, Lucas would discard Sophia without a second thought. Sophia had once believed that too, but something had shifted in these past six months—Lucas seemed to be genuinely falling for her. He made grand declarations of love in the press, showered her with luxury homes and cars, and even replaced the cherry tree he'd planted for Emily with a garden full of red roses. In their most tender moments, he'd whisper against her ear, "Let's have a baby, Sophie. I hope they have your smile." Sophia's hand drifted absently to her stomach as she clutched the gift box a little tighter. Inside was a positive pregnancy test—meant to be Lucas's birthday surprise. But now, the timing of the gift felt all wrong. "You still think you're the Evans family princess, Emily? Lucas only has eyes for Sophia now. Why not be with me? A pretty thing like you deserves to be treated right," one of Lucas's friends, Ryan Shaw, sneered. He dragged Emily onto his lap, his hands already roaming over her. "Get your hands off me!" Emily cried, fighting against Ryan's grip as humiliation burned through her. Her resistance only fueled Ryan's excitement. In one swift motion, he shoved her down onto the couch, his powerful body trapping hers. Horrified that Ryan would assault Emily right in front of Lucas, Sophia jumped up to stop him, only to be shoved aside as Lucas already surged into action. As she stumbled, her hands instinctively reached for Lucas's arm, but he brutally shook her off. She hit the floor hard, a jolt of sharp pain shooting from her tailbone straight to her womb. Through the pain-induced haze, she saw Lucas grab Ryan by the collar, drag him off Emily, and pummel his face with brutal, unforgiving fists. "You've overstepped, Ryan. Emily is mine. Even if I discard her, she'll never be yours to touch," Lucas snapped. His words hung in the air, and the entire room fell silent as if frozen in time. Sophia stared at Lucas in disbelief, wondering where she stood in his life now that he had openly claimed Emily as his woman. All eyes in the room were drawn to the scene. Some watched with malicious delight, while others were simply captivated by the unfolding drama. Doubled over in pain, Sophia felt a warm wetness spreading beneath her. Her face paled as a cold dread gripped her heart. "Honey, my stomach hurts," she turned to Lucas instinctively. "Please, take me to the hospital." Without even glancing her way, Lucas removed his jacket and gently placed it around Emily's shoulders. Nestling into his embrace, Emily whispered, her voice trembling, "Lucas, I'm scared. Please take me away from here." "Don't worry," he murmured, holding her close. "I won't let anyone hurt you." Sweeping Emily into his arms, Lucas carried her out of the room, completely ignoring Sophia's pain-racked form shuddering on the floor. Perched comfortably on his shoulder, Emily gazed down at Sophia's crumpled form on the floor, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. The spectators murmured among themselves, still savoring the drama they'd just witnessed. "Emily's definitely the one for Lucas. He hasn't taken his eyes off her all night." "The way Lucas looks at her... I thought it was hatred, but it's clearly something else entirely." "Who could resist someone like her? I certainly wouldn't be able to stay angry." "Poor Sophia. She was just a side character in their love story." At the mention of Sophia's name, the crowd remembered her presence simultaneously, their attention shifting to where she sat. Sophia was in terrible pain and covered in a cold sweat until someone finally noticed her condition and quickly helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?" the guy asked. She gripped his arm tightly as the room spun around her. "Please take me to the hospital. My stomach hurts terribly," she pleaded. Then everything went dark as she fainted. Through the haze of semi-consciousness, distant screams about blood echoed in her ears. When Sophia regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital room. The sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the air as she lay alone in the quiet ward. A nurse tending to her bandages noticed her awakening. "You're awake," she said softly. Sophia's voice came out weak and fearful. "My baby... Is my baby alright?" "Your baby is fine," the nurse reassured her. "But you'll need to take special care. These first few months are particularly delicate in your condition." Relief washed over Sophia as grateful tears fell. "Thank you," she whispered, overwhelmed that her child was safe. Through the emotional turmoil, Sophia's first thought was to share the news with Lucas immediately. Wiping her tears, she reached for her phone and dialed his number. The phone rang several times before Lucas finally picked up. His voice was edged with impatience as he answered, "Not coming home tonight. Don't wait—" "Lucas, my hair's caught in this zipper," Emily's voice interrupted, floating through the line. "Could you give me a hand?" Sophia's knuckles went white around her phone. "Be right there," he said. The call ended before Sophia could form a response. Overnight, things between her and Lucas had reverted to how they were six months ago. Back then, he'd been all cold shoulders and sharp tones. Even in their most intimate moments, he treated her like just another need to be met. To him, she might as well have been a stranger—or worse, just a convenient body. So when he finally let his guard down, she'd been so grateful for the warmth that she fell harder than she ever meant to. She thought her years of longing had finally paid off. But reality slapped her senseless when Lucas chose Emily's safety over their own child's life. After being discharged from the hospital, Sophia caught a taxi home. Midway through the ride, her phone buzzed with a Twitter alert. It was a tweet from Emily: [You told me you'd hold my hand and never let go—not for the rest of our lives.] The attached photo showed Emily dressed like a princess, complete with a tiny crown, her hand locked tightly with a larger, elegant hand. Around the wrist was a bracelet made of prayer beads—the very one Sophia had prayed for in a church last year, when Lucas was burning up with fever. That day, he squeezed her hand and whispered a promise that he would never leave her side. Chapter 2 Ask Him For A Divorce The taxi stopped outside the Nightfall Estate, where Sophia paid the fare and got out of the vehicle. She was just heading inside when a truck carrying young cherry trees rumbled up the drive and stopped near the garden. Workers carefully unloaded the cherry trees and settled them into the prepared holes. Where a vibrant sea of red roses had bloomed just yesterday, now only upturned earth remained, with the plants piled carelessly to the side. A dull ache spread through Sophia's chest as she gazed at the rose petals strewn like crimson tears across the soil. The familiar purr of a luxury car engine approached from behind. Turning around, Sophia saw Lucas step out of the car. He stood tall and straight, radiating a natural air of calm elegance. "Honey..." Sophia began, but the words died on her lips as he leaned back into the car. With gentle care, he helped a woman step out—it was Emily, who looked radiant in an exquisite designer ensemble that made her complexion glow. Only when Emily was steady did Lucas's gaze finally meet Sophia's, those usually warm eyes now regarding her with detached indifference. "Did you need something?" he asked, his tone flat. The cold unfamiliarity in his look struck Sophia's heart like a physical blow. "Why are you tearing out the roses when they were growing so well?" she asked, desperate for his explanation. Those roses had been his special way of confessing his feelings to her. Lucas barely glanced at the destroyed garden. "Emily's not feeling well. She'll be staying with us for a bit." "What does that have to do with the roses?" she pressed. "She's allergic to the pollen," he said curtly, already turning to guide Emily inside. Sophia stood rooted to the spot, her heart breaking. Emily's delicate voice carried through the air. "Lucas, Sophia seems upset. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have complained about the roses." "She doesn't matter to me," Lucas reassured her. "But I worry she'll resent me. Really, I can manage with allergy medication," Emily offered, her voice dripping with false concern. "Medication always has side effects. Don't suggest things that worry me," he replied. Sophia stood motionless as she watched their figures grow smaller in the distance. A silent tear traced its way down her cheek while overwhelming sorrow washed over her. 'I don't matter to him... Yeah, right,' Sophia murmured with bitter irony, the truth of the words settling like a weight in her heart. He hadn't even asked about her absence last night, and now he had ordered her favorite roses to be torn out. The message was clear—she meant less to him than the slightest thought of Emily. For three years, she had devoted herself to him, offering unwavering love and comfort through difficult times. She had believed her constant warmth could thaw even the coldest heart, but Emily's reappearance had erased everything in an instant. She wondered what their intimacy these past six months had truly meant, and what role she had actually played in his life. A sudden twinge in her lower abdomen made her catch her breath. Pale and unsteady, she turned toward the villa. As Sophia stepped into the living room, she saw Emily nestled against Lucas on the sofa, watching with affectionate amusement as he peeled an orange for her. Lucas gently picked away every bit of white pith from the orange segments before arranging them on a plate for Emily. "For you," he said with a soft smile. "Enjoy, my little foodie." As Emily took the plate, she noticed Sophia entering the room. A triumphant smile graced her lips as she called out, "Sophia, would you like some? Lucas peeled these himself. Something you've never experienced, I'm sure." Sophia's gaze fell upon the perfectly prepared orange segments, and she felt a sudden sting behind her eyes. The painful truth was that in all their time together, Lucas had never once peeled an orange for her. She had always been the one serving him. The realization struck her with perfect clarity—Lucas knew well how to be thoughtful, but he simply reserved his kindness for Emily. Sophia felt her heart breaking into pieces as she finally understood how painful comparison could be. "She's perfectly capable of peeling her own fruit," Lucas said dismissively, barely glancing at Sophia. Then he noticed her pale complexion and added, "Are you alright? You look terribly pale." Sophia's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she debated telling Lucas her secret pregnancy. A fragile hope whispered within her—that this truth might finally soften his heart toward her. "I..." Her voice faltered, the words dying on her lips. "If you're ill, see a doctor. This pathetic act is getting tiresome," Lucas said, impatience flashing across his handsome features. He was annoyed by her wounded expression, which seemed to suggest she was the victim of some terrible injustice. Sophia swallowed her unspoken words, her gaze lingering on the man who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. "I'm fine," she murmured. "I'll just go to my room." As she turned toward the staircase, Lucas felt a surge of irritation. 'I must've been too lenient with her, and now she dared to show me attitude,' he thought, fuming. Sophia had only climbed a few steps when the housekeeper, Wendy, appeared descending the stairs with servants carrying boxes. The items looked familiar, but it was the sight of her stuffed doll in Wendy's arms that made Sophia realize everything they carried was hers. In a swift motion, she stepped forward and snatched the doll. Her voice turned icy as she asked, "Wendy, care to explain this?" "Mr. Westwood's orders," Wendy said quietly. "You're to move to the storage room downstairs." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, leaving her mind reeling. She turned to Lucas, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious." They'd already maintained separate bedrooms, but she never imagined that she'd be banished to a storage room instead of even being offered the guest suite after Emily's return. For a fleeting moment under her gaze, Lucas felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly hardened into resolve. "Emily needs the sunroom for her health," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your room gets the best light. It's better for her recovery." The absurdity of it all drew a bitter laugh from Sophia's lips. She thought his previous cruelty—shoving her while pregnant and replacing her roses with Emily's cherry trees—had been the worst it could get. But this new humiliation surpassed even that. All Lucas had done since Emily's return yesterday was talk about her. In just one day, she had turned Sophia's whole life upside down. Sophia expected to feel rage, but instead found only a hollow emptiness settling in her chest. 'Look at him, Sophia,' Sophia thought bitterly. 'This is the man you gave your heart and soul to. Was any of it worth it?' "If you're so worried about her comfort, why not just move her into your room? The master suite gets the best light anyway," Sophia shot back. Lucas responded sharply, "Sophia, you need to watch your tone." Emily's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I know you don't want me here, Sophia. I'll go. Please don't fight with Lucas over me." Sophia saw right through Emily's act. A humorless laugh escaped her as she spat, "You're not going anywhere. I am." Tightening her grip on the stuffed doll, she turned and headed for the door. "Don't you dare, Sophia." Lucas rose to his feet, his voice cutting through the room. "Walk out that door now, and don't expect to ever come back." Sophia's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "I'll make sure you receive the divorce papers," she said, her voice cold and steady. "See that you sign them." "You're asking me for a divorce?" Lucas's voice was low, thick with barely restrained fury. He added, his tone edged with contempt, "Have you forgotten who gave you this life, Sophia? The luxury, the status—all of it came from me. Without my name, you're just that wide-eyed girl fresh off that forgotten little town. You don't get to leave." Chapter 3 The Replaced Medical Result Sophia didn't need to look back to know the condescending smirk that was surely on Lucas's face. She knew he had always despised her. His proposal three years ago had been motivated only by a desire to fulfill the marriage agreement between their families and to exact revenge on Emily. She had been naive enough to believe his empty promises, offering him her genuine love when he saw her as nothing more than a pawn. To him, she would always be a leech, clinging to his wealth and name for survival. But now, she had reached her limit, and she no longer wanted him in her life. Sophia walked out without a backward glance. As she stepped through the gateway, the sound of shattering porcelain echoed behind her, but she no longer cared. Lucas stood amid the shattered remains, fingers pressed to his temples. His face was a mask of simmering anger. He dismissed the mention of divorce as just another one of her calculated moves, a transparent attempt to get his attention by pulling away. Emily watched him hesitantly. "Maybe I shouldn't be staying here, Lucas. Sophia seemed really upset." "It's nothing," Lucas replied evenly. Seeing how the mention of divorce had affected him, she suggested softly, "You could go after her. Women usually respond well to a little reassurance." "I don't have time for that," Lucas said, turning toward the staircase. With a business trip looming, his mind was elsewhere. 'Let her make a scene if she wants to,' he thought. 'She'll cool off and come crawling back. She always does.' ***** Sophia's home was a beautiful 3,200-square-foot apartment with an open-concept layout and sleek modern decor—all paid for with her own earnings. In her study, she printed the divorce papers and a letter resigning from her position. With a steady hand, she signed both, and then summoned a courier to deliver them directly to the Westwood Group. When she married Lucas three years ago, Sophia had joined his company, hoping to build a genuine connection with him. She started at the very bottom as an assistant and gradually earned her way up to department manager. She had wanted nothing more than to be close to him—in their home and at work. But in the end, her efforts were met with cold indifference. Gazing downward, Sophia softly cradled her stomach. "It's just us now, little one," she whispered. The courier arrived at Westwood headquarters while Lucas was away. His chief executive assistant, Kevin Chapman, received the delivery and signed. The moment Kevin saw the contents, he reached for the phone, dialing Lucas's number in haste. "Mr. Westwood, your wife has sent divorce documents." "Burn it all." On the other side of the ocean, Lucas loosened his tie as an unexpected wave of irritation came over him. "But Mrs. Westwood has even submitted her resignation letter..." Kevin replied, his tone hesitant. "She can't survive without this family." The blue flame from Lucas's lighter highlighted the grim set of his features. "Let her be. She'll come crawling back once reality sets in." Meanwhile, Sophia remained completely unaware of his words. Her morning had begun with a call from her mother-in-law, Helen Westwood. "Where are you? Return at once," Helen commanded in her typically imperious manner, leaving no room for discussion. Complying, Sophia drove back to the estate. No sooner had she stepped inside than a velvet box came hurling toward her head, which she narrowly avoided by stepping aside. Helen's shrill voice pierced the air. "How dare you avoid that? You've got some nerve." Sophia's gaze fell upon the velvet box at her feet, and suddenly, she understood why it seemed familiar. She remembered purchasing that exact box to store her pregnancy test results. On Lucas's birthday, she had intended to present it to him as a gift, but he had accidentally pushed her before she could give it to him, resulting in her hospitalization. Her heart leaped as she turned to face Helen's livid expression. 'Could she know about the pregnancy? But something about her reaction seems strange,' she wondered. For three years, Helen had made no secret of her disapproval of Sophia, someone raised in a small town. Yet every time Sophia visited the Westwood residence with Lucas, Helen would consistently nag Sophia about starting a family soon. If Helen knew Sophia was pregnant, she was supposed to be absolutely delighted instead of reacting like this. Helen clutched a medical report, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared down Sophia. "For three years, I've watched your marriage to Lucas, wondering why you never conceived. Now I understand—he married a barren woman. "If you hadn't left this at the hotel and Lucas's friend hadn't been kind enough to deliver it, I'd still be in the dark about your condition." Heart pounding with shock, Sophia ignored Helen's murderous gaze and snatched the document from her hand. The clinical report lay cold and pale in the morning light. There was her name, clearly printed, alongside the devastating diagnosis: "permanent infertility." 'Permanent infertility? But that's impossible. I'm pregnant. Someone must have switched my test results. But who would do such a thing?' Sophia wondered. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "This isn't my..." Emily, who had remained silent until now, suddenly interrupted, "Sophia, the Westwood lineage has been passed down through a single heir for ten generations. Are you trying to ensure Lucas dies without an heir? To extinguish the family line completely?" "How utterly heartless!" Helen exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Sophia as her anger reached its peak. "We've welcomed you with open arms since you married into this family. Yet you've been hiding this from us? To think you'd let our family line die out—it's truly despicable!" she added. Sophia didn't even attempt to explain herself. If they wanted to believe she was barren, so be it—it would only simplify the divorce proceedings. "I only received the results two days ago. I hadn't found the right moment to share the news," Sophia replied, her voice calm. "This wasn't about finding the right moment. You did this intentionally," Helen retorted, her face contorted with rage. "And you planned to give this to Lucas as a gift? What kind of twisted mind would conceive such a thing?" Sophia maintained her silence. Helen took a measured breath, forcing her anger down. "If you can't conceive naturally, I won't hold it against you. I've spoken with Emily, and she's agreed to donate her eggs so you and Lucas can pursue in vitro fertilization." Sophia stared in disbelief at the unexpected turn. "Could you repeat that?" She believed she had misheard because the suggestion was both preposterous and deeply offensive. "If you can't conceive, that's your problem. Emily is being extraordinarily generous by offering her eggs. The least you could do is show some appreciation instead of this ingratitude," Helen sneered. A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. "Perhaps you'd like to accept this generous offer yourself?" "How dare you speak to me like that!" Helen's eyes flashed with fury. "Sophia, you shouldn't speak to Mrs. Westwood that way. She was suggesting that for your sake," Emily said in a honeyed tone, reaching for the glass. As she moved, she made certain to display the prayer beads circling her delicate wrist. Sophia's breath caught—she would recognize the bracelet anywhere. That was the very ones she had sacrificed so much to obtain while praying for Lucas's recovery. It felt like a personal insult, seeing the bracelet that symbolized her love for Lucas now clasped around Emily's wrist. "For my sake?" Sophia repeated, the words tasting bitter as she caught the sly glint of satisfaction in Emily's eyes. It sent a sharp ache through her. She knew this game all too well. Emily had a gift for twisting people's vulnerabilities to her advantage, a lesson Sophia had learned the hard way three years ago. "I'm infertile. What possible use could I have for your eggs?" Sophia asked, her voice cold. "Do you really think I need a constant reminder of what I can't have?" Emily's smile vanished. For Helen's benefit, she bit her lip, her eyes instantly welling with feigned hurt. "Mrs. Westwood," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "I was only trying to help Sophia." Helen immediately comforted Emily by patting her hand. She then shot Sophia a disapproving look. "How can you be so selfish, Sophia? Are you really determined to let the Westwood family line die out?" Sophia gestured dismissively toward Emily. "Well, if she's so fertile, let her handle the baby-making." The thought of Emily getting to be a mother the easy way turned Sophia's stomach. Chapter 4 Take Back Her Things The color drained from both Helen's and Emily's faces. Helen stepped forward, jabbing a finger toward Sophia. "You think you're better than us? Then you give the Westwood family an heir. Don't blame anyone else for your own useless womb." Sophia bit back the sharp retort on her tongue. She was done with this family, done with Lucas. Arguing now would only prolong the inevitable. "Mrs. Westwood," she began, "I've decided—" Lucas's familiar, deep voice cut through the tension from the doorway. "Decided what?" Sophia turned to see Lucas standing there, his clothes rumpled from travel. His assistant, Kevin, hovered behind him with a suitcase in hand. The air in the room was thick with tension, so Kevin knew better than to stay. He simply left the suitcase by the door and made a quick exit. Loosening his tie, Lucas turned to Helen. "Mom, what brings you here?" "If I hadn't come, you'd have let our family name die out," Helen shot back. She then snatched the medical report from Sophia and flung it at Lucas's chest. "See for yourself," she said coldly, and with that, she swept out of the room. Lucas looked down at the document in his hands, and the words "permanent infertility" caused a faint twitch in his brow. His eyes, when they finally lifted to meet Sophia's, were devoid of warmth. "You'll go back to the hospital tomorrow for a full work-up. I will not have a wife who can't give me an heir." A hollow ache spread through Sophia's chest. Any foolish hope she'd been clinging to finally faded. Lucas had never defended her in three years of his mother's constant belittlement. And now, the ease with which he believed this lie revealed the chilling truth of his character. "I have the divorce papers right here," Sophia said, pulling the documents from her bag. She extended them toward him, her voice steady. "Just sign them, and you'll never have to see me again." Lucas didn't even look at the papers. In one swift motion, his hand closed around her throat, pulling her close. He leaned in until his face was mere inches from hers, and she could feel his warm breath and smell the familiar scent of his cologne. There was a time when this closeness would have made her heart flutter. Now, it only made her skin crawl. It was amazing how easy it was to walk away when all the love had drained away. "Sophia, have I been too soft with you?" Lucas's voice was thick with contempt. "Where exactly do you think you'll go without my protection?" She held his gaze without flinching. "That's really none of your concern anymore." "Still got that sharp tongue," he sneered. He released her with a dismissive shove, as if her defiance meant nothing. "Go make me dinner. I'm hungry." A wave of pain shot through Sophia's lower abdomen as she sank into the sofa, her skin turning clammy with an instant, cold sweat. Across the room, Emily slid her arm through Lucas's with practiced ease. "Don't let Sophia bother you," she murmured. "Her little scene was just a cry for your attention." Lucas pulled his tie free, his stern expression melting away as he focused on Emily. "How are you holding up?" he asked, his tone gentler. "I'm fine," she sighed, putting on a pitiful face. "It's just that the medicine is so awfully bitter." "It's bitter because it's strong. You need to keep taking it," he reminded her. "I picked up those candies you like. They're in my suitcase. Go get them yourself." "I know you always look out for me," Emily said, stretching up to press a light kiss to Lucas's cheek. "Consider that your reward." A look of quiet satisfaction crossed his features at the gesture. "I'm going up to shower," he said. "Go ahead," Emily said sweetly, fluttering a wave at him. She waited until Lucas's footsteps faded up the staircase before turning to the suitcase. They carried on as if Sophia weren't standing right there in the same room. Humming cheerfully, Emily unzipped the luggage. Alongside Lucas's neatly folded clothes sat a jar of shimmering candies and an elegant red velvet box that clearly held something valuable. Her eyes skipped over the candy, going straight to the velvet box. When she lifted the lid, a pink diamond necklace lay gleaming, its facets scattering rainbows in the light. "Oh, it's exquisite. I love it," she whispered, her eyes widening. "So the candy was just a decoy. This necklace is what he really wanted me to find." Draping the necklace against her collarbone, Emily turned to face Sophia, who had risen from the sofa. "Well, Sophia? Don't you think it suits me perfectly?" The pink diamond necklace around Emily's neck struck Sophia as oddly familiar. It came to her a moment later—she had coveted it last month while flipping through a magazine. Lucas had seen her fascination and promised to get it for her. The catch was its exclusivity—a single piece, sourced from Melaria, the country where Lucas had been attending to business. "That was for me," Sophia said, her voice calm. The man was disposable, but her possessions were not. She would reclaim what was rightfully hers. With a swift motion, Emily clasped the necklace. "Finders keepers," she said with a mocking grin. Sophia approached for a closer look. Though the necklace was more exquisite than its photograph, any desire for it had vanished. A wary look crossed Emily's face. "What is this about?" "To take what belongs to me, of course," Sophia said, stepping close and extending her hand. "It's time you returned it." Emily's hands instinctively flew to the diamond necklace at her throat. "Lucas will never stand for this, Sophia. You know what I mean to him." Sophia almost laughed. She knew well that Emily held a special place in Lucas's heart. But that was irrelevant. She was only claiming what was hers. "Give the bracelet back to me," Sophia said coldly. It was a token earned through true devotion, and she wouldn't let its significance be tarnished. Realizing Sophia only wanted the simple bracelet, Emily smiled condescendingly. 'Some shortsighted people have no taste,' she thought. Emily twisted the bracelet around her wrist. "I heard you went to Grace Abbey to beg for this good-luck charm," she said. "You are so hung up on him, aren't you?" The hypocrisy of her words was almost laughable. "Give it back," Sophia said, her voice like ice. Emily's eyes flickered to a point behind Sophia, and a sly smile touched her lips. She lowered her voice. "If you want it so badly, why don't you come and take it?" Sophia didn't stop to think. She grabbed Emily's wrist and tugged the bracelet free. The moment it was off, Emily's demeanor shifted completely. "Sophia, what are you doing?" she cried out, her voice suddenly loud and panicked. "Lucas gave this to me." Before Sophia could even turn around, a powerful hand seized her by the collar and hauled her backwards. The fabric dug sharply into her throat, stealing her breath. Stumbling to regain her footing, Sophia looked up to see Lucas. He was already cradling Emily. "Emily, are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern. Emily buried her face in his chest. "I'm fine," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Please, don't be angry with Sophia. She didn't mean it." Lucas's jaw tightened, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. He took a deep breath and fixed Sophia with an icy stare. "Apologize to Emily." Chapter 5 She Wants A Clean Break A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. She had fooled herself into thinking she was numb to Lucas's coldness. But his command still sent a fresh, sharp pain through her chest. She knew there was no point arguing with a man who had already chosen the other woman's side. "I won't apologize," Sophia said, her fist closing tightly around the bracelet. "What for?" Emily looked up at Lucas with well-practiced vulnerability. "I'm causing trouble here, Lucas. I should go." Lucas caught her wrist before she could take a second step. "You're staying right here." His attention snapped back to Sophia, his expression darkening. "Now, Sophia, apologize to Emily." The room blurred as tears filled Sophia's eyes, twisting his familiar face into a stranger's. She lifted the simple bracelet between them. "This is my stuff in the first place. Since when is taking back what was stolen a crime?" "Your stuff? Since when do you have anything of your own?" Lucas's lips curled in a sneer. "I've paid for every stitch of clothing on your back." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, forcing a bitter laugh from her lips. He knew perfectly well she earned her own living, yet he took every opportunity to demean her. "This bracelet came from Grace Abbey," she countered, her voice trembling. "You didn't pay a cent for it." Lucas's eyes dropped to the simple beads in her palm. "You think I care about some cheap bracelet?" he scoffed. Hot tears streamed down Sophia's face without warning. Wiping them away, Sophia made a silent vow—this would be the last time he reduced her to this. "Fine!" With one sharp motion, she snapped the bracelet's cord, sending beads skittering across the floor. Lucas watched the scattered beads come to rest, his hand curling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. He knew how much that bracelet meant to her, but the moment Emily wanted it, he didn't hesitate to take it off and hand it over. Lucas's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "Sophia!" "I want a divorce," Sophia said, her voice eerily calm. As she opened her hand, the last bead from the bracelet clattered onto the floor between them. "Let's just end this." The sound was small, but in the tense silence, it was deafening, echoing in Lucas's mind. He let out a short laugh, his gaze locked on her. "You think a threat will work? You should know better than that by now." 'This has to be a ploy,' he thought to himself. 'She loves me too much to go through with it. She has accepted her role as Emily's replacement from the beginning and has never once tried to leave. 'She would never have the strength to walk away from me.' "Go make us something to eat, and we can forget this ever happened." Lucas was certain he had thrown Sophia a lifeline. He waited, fully expecting her to be overcome with relief and scurry off to the kitchen. He'd been away on business, and days of unfamiliar rich food had left his stomach unsettled. What he craved was Sophia's cooking—simple, hearty food that tasted like home. It was a flavor he couldn't find anywhere else. "You can go eat your ass," Sophia shot back. She picked up her bag, her lips twisting into a scornful smile, and walked out without a backward glance. That smile grated on Lucas's nerves more than the insult itself. In his frustration, his eyes fell on the string of prayer beads lying scattered on the floor, and he gave them an impatient kick. 'So that's her game. She wants to challenge me? I'd like to see just how long her resolve will hold,' he thought, fuming. ***** Sophia sped away from Nightfall Estate, her phone buzzing relentlessly on the passenger seat. Lucas's name flashed across the screen again and again until she finally grabbed it and blocked his number for good. When she looked up at the road, she blinked, her vision blurring for a moment. She braced for the familiar sting of tears, but when her fingers touched her skin, it was dry. It was only then that she noticed the soft patter against the windshield. A fine drizzle had begun to fall, and a quiet melancholy settled over her, as gray as the sky. Up ahead, the flickering hazard lights of a sleek black car broke the rhythm of the rain. A man in a soaked suit, looking to be in his forties, stood beside it, waving frantically at passing traffic. Almost without conscious thought, Sophia found herself flipping on her turn signal and pulling over. She rolled down her window as the man rushed over. "Everything okay?" she asked. "It's my boss," the man said, his voice tight with panic. "He's having a heart attack. The ambulance is stuck in a multi-car accident. Please, can you take us to the hospital?" Sophia hesitated. Letting two strange men into her car, especially in this weather, felt dangerous. Every cautionary tale she'd ever heard flashed through her mind. Seeing her hesitation, the man added urgently, "I promise we're not dangerous. My boss is—" But Sophia was already moving, cutting the engine and stepping out into the downpour. "Just get him to my car, now," she called out as she rushed toward their vehicle. As she got closer, she recognized the distinctive emblem of the black Maybach. Working together, they carefully transferred the elderly man from the luxury sedan into Sophia's more modest car. The old man's lips were tinged with blue, and each ragged breath seemed like a struggle, clear signs of his critical condition. Sliding behind the wheel, Sophia started the car and pulled back onto the road, pushing through the veils of rain. In the backseat, the middle-aged man was a whirlwind of activity on his phone, coordinating with a hospital and alerting the family. Beyond the windows, the storm seemed to intensify, as if trying to match the urgency inside the car. After ensuring everything was in place, the man turned to Sophia with heartfelt appreciation. "You're the only one who stopped in this downpour. We can't thank you enough." A warm smile touched Sophia's lips. "Some things are just meant to be." ***** Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital entrance where medical staff stood ready. The team swiftly transferred the elderly man to a stretcher and hurried him inside for emergency care. Just as Sophia was about to drive away, she spotted a lone leather shoe in the backseat—the one the elderly man had been wearing. After a moment's hesitation, she parked properly and carried the shoe to the reception desk, logging it as a lost item. Sophia was just turning to leave when a group emerged from the hospital's main entrance. At the front of the group was a man whose height and posture commanded attention. He turned his sharp gaze on her, and the intensity in his eyes was so commanding that it felt like a physical pressure. 'That frown means trouble,' Sophia thought. She averted her gaze and continued walking, brushing past the group without a second look. It wasn't until she was back in the driver's seat that she felt the chill of her wet clothes clinging to her skin. As she dried her hair with a towel from the backseat, a notification popped up on her phone while she was opening the navigation app. It was a post from Emily: [Nothing says 'forever' like a soft-boiled egg made with love! My ultimate comfort food.] The post featured two photos—one showed a soft-boiled egg with a ketchup heart, and the other captured a tall man's back as he stood at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Sophia couldn't help but compare. When she was with Lucas, he had acted like even pouring her a glass of water was a significant concession. Cooking a meal was utterly out of the question. The fact that he was now cooking for Emily spoke volumes about where his true affections lay. She closed the page and entered her apartment address into the navigation system before driving out of the parking lot. As she watched the heavy rain outside, a single decisive thought crystallized in her mind—this marriage was over. Chapter 6 Return The Trash To The Dumpster That evening, a text came through from Annabelle Quinn, Sophia's best friend since college, insisting they go out to a lounge. The old Sophia would have declined immediately, conditioned to obey Lucas's rule about her not going out. But now that Sophia was divorcing him, his opinions held no weight. ***** The moment Sophia stepped out of the car, she saw Annabelle waiting by the entrance. "Hope you haven't been waiting long," she said as she approached. "Just got here," Annabelle grinned, looping her arm through Sophia's. "So, what's the special occasion? Did you finally get a night off from your sweetheart?" Sophia struggled to find the words, but she couldn't keep it from her best friend. "I'm getting a divorce," she finally said. "Let me guess," Annabelle said, not one to mince words in front of her best friend. "This is about Emily being back, isn't it?" "It's not just that," Sophia admitted, her voice quiet. It just took seeing the difference for herself to truly see how little her three years of effort had meant. Annabelle threw a supportive arm around Sophia's shoulders. "You should have woken up to this a long time ago." For three years, she had watched Sophia lose herself in a hollow relationship, and it killed Annabelle to see her friend throw everything away for a man who never appreciated her. "Better late than never," Sophia offered with a weak smile. "Damn right it is," Annabelle declared. "Tonight, I'm getting us the best male models in town. You deserve some real attention." They ascended into the pulsating heart of the club, pushing through the glittering crowd toward the exclusive booth Annabelle had booked. As they moved past the entrance to a private booth, a burst of laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway. Amid the noise, Sophia's own name caught her sharp ear. "Got to hand it to Lucas. The minute Emily was back, he moved her right in. Word is, he showed Sophia the door." "Well, she had it coming. Play the simp, and you lose it all. Seriously though, that night in the booth with all the blood? I truly thought a tragedy had occurred, but it was probably just her period." "You're thinking about that? Man, have you had a thing for Sophia all along?" "Who'd pine after some nobody from a backwater? Only Lucas, with his unique preferences, would stick around for three years." "Guess the novelty wore off. Time for a change." Standing in the hallway, Sophia felt a cold stillness settle behind her eyes. The voices clicked into place—Lucas's oldest friends. They had been there that night, spectators to her most shameful moment. Annabelle's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind." But as she moved toward the door, Sophia stopped her with a gentle hand. "This is my battle to fight," Sophia said firmly. With that, Sophia pushed the door open and swept into the room. She settled gracefully onto the sofa, joining their conversation with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you're talking about unique preferences, I top him," she began, her voice deceptively light, "I recycled what Emily threw away. But it looks like I did everyone a favor by returning the trash to the dumpster where it belongs." A stunned silence fell over the room. Every face on the circular sofa stared at her in horrified fascination. Unbeknownst to Sophia, two figures had entered the room behind her during her speech. The guests' eyes darted nervously between Sophia and the newcomers, the air thickening with tension. There stood Lucas and Emily, their expressions dark as storm clouds. Their presence made Sophia turn. Her eyes instantly met the cold, dark stare of Lucas. But she didn't back down. A defiant shrug lifted her shoulders. "Look what the cat dragged in. My trash husband." Emily's eyes instantly glistened with tears. "Sophia, ignore them," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "It's all lies. Lucas and I are just friends." As if to prove her point, she clutched Lucas's arm. "Tell her, Lucas. Make her understand there's nothing going on between us." Sophia's gaze dropped to the hand clinging to Lucas's arm, and a faint, derisive smile touched her mouth. 'Just friends? Did she really expect anyone to believe that?' she thought bitterly. Lucas detached himself from Emily's grip and closed the distance between him and Sophia. The motion broke the tension, stirring his friends into action. "Hey, Lucas, take it easy," one of them said, stepping forward. "She's just reacting to our stupid jokes." "Come on, Sophia, just say you're sorry to Lucas," another one urged. "You know he'll forgive you." The suggestion made Sophia want to laugh bitterly. 'Is this really how they see me? As some lovesick fool who'd come crawling back at the first sign of forgiveness?' she thought. It explained everything—why, for three years, they had shown her phony respect as Lucas's wife while mocking her devotion in private. She had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn't met Lucas seven years ago, if that fateful incident hadn't tied her to him, she would have moved on with her life long ago. "Are you quite done?" Lucas's voice cut through her thoughts as he reached for her arm. She shifted her weight gracefully, letting his hand close on empty air. The rejected gesture hung between them for a beat too long before he withdrew, his features tightening with displeasure. Turning to Emily, who was now dabbing at her eyes, Sophia arched a brow. "There's no need for the waterworks. You're making it look like I'm the one being cruel here." "Sophia, I've treated you like my elder sister. I—" Emily began, trying to defend herself. "Don't," Sophia interrupted, her voice cool. "We arrived minutes apart, and you were first. Let's skip the emotional act." Emily's face turned from pale to deep red as she clenched her jaw in fury. 'Since when has Sophia found this kind of nerve? She used to shrink into silence whenever Lucas was near,' she thought. Despite her three-year absence from the city, Emily had ensured she received every scrap of information about Sophia's life. She knew all about Sophia's pathetic attempts to please Lucas, and she knew exactly how little he cared for his wife. She even knew they kept separate bedrooms, and that on the occasional night Lucas spent with Sophia, he always sent her back to her own room afterward. She knew that to Lucas, Sophia was just a body—convenient, disposable, and utterly unimportant. With a dark expression, Lucas grabbed Sophia's wrist and began pulling her toward the exit. Sophia's answer was a sharp, stinging slap across his cheek. The sound cracked through the air, and a dead silence fell over the room. All eyes were fixed on Sophia in pure shock. Everyone was wondering if she had lost her mind to dare something like that. Lucas slowly worked his jaw, the look in his eyes so dark that it promised retribution. When Sophia resisted, Lucas didn't hesitate. He swept her up onto his shoulder and carried her out of the room. The sight made Emily's heart clench. She'd never seen Lucas be so patient with anyone. Before she knew it, her hand was on his arm. "Lucas..." He didn't turn his head, but some of the tension left his expression. "I'm taking her home," he said firmly. "The driver will return for you when you're ready." Emily could only watch as Lucas walked away with Sophia. She had no right to stop him, but it stung—this was the first time he'd ever left her for another woman, especially one who meant nothing. Her hands tightened at her sides. 'I gave you a chance to walk away quietly, Sophia. You brought this on yourself,' she thought. Sophia's protests echoed down the hallway as she struggled against Lucas's hold. Unsure what was happening between the couple, Annabelle turned away, pretending she hadn't noticed them. Lucas carried Sophia into the elevator and stepped out briskly when it reached the basement level. As the car door opened, Lucas tossed Sophia into the back seat. Struggling upright, she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea from the prolonged time she'd spent upside down. She opened her mouth to curse, but the words died on her lips as the tinted window of a nearby Maybach began to descend. In the shadowy interior, the man's profile was sharp and forbidding. His lips were set in a firm line, and he sat with the imposing stillness of an iceberg, his presence pushing others away. Sensing her gaze, he glanced over, and their eyes locked. Without a word, Sophia averted her gaze and hid her face behind a veil of tangled hair. Chapter 7 Not Her Home Anymore Lucas's black Bentley pulled out of the underground parking garage, but Sophia was still lost in thought about those intense eyes. There was something familiar about them, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen them before. Lucas's voice broke the silence. "Did you follow me here? What are you so concerned about?" "What?" Sophia asked, snapping back to reality. Keeping his eyes on the road, Lucas tried to explain. "You know how my friends are—they never think before they speak. Don't take their words seriously. There's nothing going on between Emily and me." 'If there's really nothing between them, why was he being so protective? He only rushed me out because he was worried I might cause a scene and embarrass Emily,' Sophia thought. "Sure," Sophia said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You and Emily are completely innocent." "I'm trying to explain myself here," Lucas said, his patience wearing thin. "Do you have to be so sarcastic?" Her ungrateful attitude was beginning to irritate him. He remembered how she used to soften at the slightest reassurance. Now, it seemed her patience had worn thin. "Understood," Sophia said, her tone flat. "Is that all?" "I've been clear from the beginning—you are my wife, and that won't change. But if you want this marriage to work, you need to drop your little tricks. I won't play these games." Sophia stayed quiet, struck by his assumption that her mention of divorce was merely a plea for attention. Her silence tightened the air between them. "Don't become someone I resent, Sophia," he said with a frown, his voice low. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips as she turned toward the window, shutting him out completely. Sensing he had pushed too far, Lucas eased his tone. "I had your things moved back to our room. If you want to stay with me, just say so. There's no need for all this." Sophia was left speechless. ***** As the car came to a stop in the courtyard of Nightfall Estate, Sophia stepped out. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the cherry blossom grove in the garden. The sight sent a sharp pang through her chest. She forced her gaze away and continued into the villa. Inside, the decor had been completely redone. The new style, with its unmistakable resemblance to the Evans residence, clearly revealed who had overseen the renovations. She moved through rooms that felt entirely alien to her now, but she kept her thoughts to herself since this was no longer her home. Wendy looked surprised when she saw Sophia. "Mrs. Westwood, you've returned. Have you had your supper?" Sinking into the plush pink sofa, Sophia answered quietly, "Yes, thank you." Wendy offered a tight smile before retreating to her quarters to make a hurried phone call to Helen, reporting the unexpected arrival. Helen had never approved of Sophia, whom she saw as a plain nobody not good enough for her son. The infertility diagnosis hardened Helen's resolve to rush the divorce so Lucas could marry someone worthy of giving her grandchildren. The news of Sophia's sudden return after her dramatic departure kept Helen tossing and turning all night. Lucas had been certain Sophia would confront him about the complete makeover of their home. He stood ready to smooth things over, but she walked through the rooms without comment, her silence leaving him more unsettled than any argument would have. "If the decor isn't to your taste..." Lucas moved to sit beside her, his arms beginning to encircle her. Sophia reached for a throw pillow, tucking it between them as she shifted away from his embrace. The gentle rejection stung, though Lucas reassured himself that this was the same woman who had always adored him. "It's true. I prefer my original choices," she said calmly. "Can you have everything returned to how it was?" The warm, elegant furnishings had vanished, replaced by the overwhelming pinks that Emily favored—a transformation that had turned their home into something resembling a kitschy boutique hotel. Lucas shifted uncomfortably. "Let's not make a big deal out of it. You'll get used to the way things are around here." A faint, knowing smile curved on Sophia's lips as she met his gaze. That smile never failed to get under his skin. "Try to see it from her perspective, Sophia," he said, his voice tightening. "After everything she's been through these past three years, all Emily wants is to feel like she belongs." A wave of exhaustion washed over her. It was like talking to a brick wall. "I know," she said flatly. "You have your entire family backing you up," Lucas shot back, his patience clearly wearing thin. "But Emily? She has nobody else. Is it really so hard for you to be a little more compassionate?" "Funny," Sophia replied, her tone icy. "I was under the impression my adoptive parents were still very much alive." Besides, the Evans family had never once ceased to think about Emily throughout those three years. They made trip after trip to Felarica to celebrate Emily's birthdays and attend her parties. They even missed Sophia's wedding to Lucas because of her. A single social media post from Emily, complaining of her loneliness in Felarica, was all it took for them to drop everything and fly to her side. "Now that you've made it out of that dead-end town, you should be the last person to let Emily sink into it," he shot back. As Sophia looked at him, the last glimmer of hope in her eyes vanished. She knew well enough to stop mentioning divorce. To Lucas, it was just another act—proof that she was the same desperate woman the world thought her to be. If she couldn't get through to Lucas, she was going to find another path. Now, with her infertility diagnosis, she knew Helen would be far more impatient to act on this news. Sophia retreated to the master bedroom. Her possessions had claimed their space, with her clothes occupying half of the vast closet. A sense of normalcy had finally settled between her and Lucas, the kind that belongs to a husband and wife. But it was a fragile peace, already beginning to fray. Lucas was still in the living room when Emily returned. The air around her carried the sharp tang of liquor. Her face was deeply flushed, and she swayed slightly as she walked. He was at her side in an instant, his hand gently steadying her. "You've had far too much to drink," he murmured, his brow furrowed with worry. "This isn't good for you. I don't want to see you like this again." Emily turned into him, her arms finding their way around his neck. "I couldn't help it," she whispered, her voice thick with drink and emotion. "It's the only thing that dulls the ache." Sensing her legs might give way, he simply gathered her into his arms. "Wendy," he said to the housekeeper who had appeared, heading for the stairs. "Would you bring up some electrolyte water for Emily?" "Understood," Wendy replied. Playing the part of the drunken mess, Emily clung to Lucas and sobbed into his chest. "I've always regretted it," she cried. "Letting my pride push you away was the biggest mistake of my life." A long-buried tenderness tugged at Lucas's heart. "Let's try again, Lucas. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice," she whispered, tilting her face up to his. Just as their lips were about to meet, the master bedroom door swung open, and the sudden movement startled the couple in the hallway. Sophia stood in the doorway in her pajamas, watching them with a completely expressionless face. Lucas instantly snapped back to reality, and a rare look of panic flashed across his handsome face. "Sophie, Emily is drunk," he said quickly. "I'm just taking her back to her room." Still draped around him, Emily met Sophia's eyes over Lucas's shoulder. The tears were gone, replaced by a cool, triumphant smirk that held no trace of intoxication. Sophia's mouth curved into a humorless smile as she replied, "Yes, and you're drunk too." Without another word, she stepped back and slammed the door, the turn of the lock echoing decisively behind her. The idea of sleeping next to Lucas made her blood boil. She honestly didn't trust herself to lie beside him all night without her rage getting the better of her. Chapter 8 Divorce Settlement The next morning, as Sophia left her room, the guest room door across the hall opened at the exact same time. Lucas was stepping out, finishing with his tie. He glanced up and went completely still, finding Sophia already watching him from their bedroom doorway. Surprise flashed across his face, and he started with an explanation. "She was a mess last night," he said, his voice low. "I couldn't just leave her." Sophia's eyes dropped to the bright red smudge on his collar. Her eyes were filled with silent scorn as she thought about how filthy it was. She said with icy calm, "Relax, I know perfectly well that nothing would ever happen between you two, even when you don't have a stitch of clothing on." Her words cut off whatever excuse Lucas was about to offer. Anger darkened his features. "Think what you want," he snapped. "My feelings for her are purely brotherly." Sophia's eyes fell to the lipstick stain on his collar again. "So, how does it feel to be so close to your 'sister'?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Following her line of sight, Lucas saw the evidence, and a shadow of guilt crossed his face. "It was an accident," he insisted, his voice tight. "Don't make it sound so sordid." "So filthy," she murmured, shaking her head. As he drew a sharp breath to retaliate, she added with a cold smile, "I mean your shirt." He stared at her, his expression turning to stone. She merely offered a careless shrug and walked away, leaving him fuming in the hallway. Downstairs, Sophia was halfway through her breakfast when her phone vibrated on the table. A quick glance at the screen confirmed it was Helen calling. Just then, Wendy appeared with two additional breakfast plates. Sophia swiped to answer the call, a deliberate smile directed at Wendy. "You're calling so early, Mrs. Westwood." The pointed smile made Wendy's blood run cold, and at the mention of Mrs. Westwood, she was reminded of betraying Sophia by reporting to Helen last night. Stricken with guilt, she almost fumbled the tray. She dropped the plates onto the table and hastily retreated to the safety of the kitchen. A faint, cold smile touched Sophia's lips as Helen's venomous voice filled her ear. "Utterly devoid of manners," Helen sneered. "What else can you expect from someone with such a common background?" Sophia's eyes turned to ice. "Trace any lineage back three generations, Mrs. Westwood, and you'll find humble roots. It's distasteful to scorn your own origins." Helen found herself at a loss for words. Though Lucas's parents both had city roots, his grandparents' generation had all struggled in a backwater. Helen's parents had even lived in a cowshed. So in that regard, Helen was no better than Sophia. "That sharp tongue of yours is exactly why people can't stand you," Helen shot back. Sophia rolled her eyes in contempt. Biting back her anger, Helen forced a calmer tone. "We need to meet. There's a document for you to sign." "What kind of document?" "It'll be clear when you get here." Letting the matter drop, Sophia hung up. As she did, she saw Lucas descending the staircase. He had showered and changed, his hair perfectly styled like a model from the pages of a magazine. She had to admit, he was pleasing to look at. 'With those looks, he certainly has the assets for a career as a gigolo,' Sophia thought wryly. A smug feeling warmed Lucas as her eyes stayed on him. He drew out the chair next to hers and sat down. "Paliston Fashion Week is just around the corner," he offered. "It'll be a good chance for us to get away." In three years of marriage, it was the first time he had ever proposed such a thing. Sophia acknowledged him with a quiet hum, but she felt no spark of happiness or expectation. She saw the offer for what it was—a peace offering, born of the guilt he carried after his betrayal. Her ride showed up shortly after breakfast. Picking up her bag, Sophia walked out the door.
Chapter 1 His First Love Returned Sophia Evans could feel her world beginning to crack the moment she heard the news—the woman her husband, Lucas Westwood, had never gotten over was back. When Sophia arrived at the hotel's VIP suite with a gift, she found Lucas's first love—Emily Evans—being humiliated by his childhood friends. "Lick the wine off my shoe, Emily. I'll give you thirty thousand dollars," one of them said. Emily was forced to kneel on the floor, tears in her defiant eyes as she stared shamefully at Lucas. Lucas watched with a dark expression, saying nothing as he held his temper in check. Sophia halted mid-step, struck by the painful familiarity of the scene. Three years ago, when she had first been welcomed into the Evans family, these same privileged young men had tormented her in exactly the same way to gain Emily's favor. But back then, Lucas hadn't worn this expression of utter heartbreak. "There you are," Lucas said as soon as he spotted Sophia, his arm sliding around her waist in a show of intimacy. Only Sophia could feel the desperate pressure of his grip—a silent testament to the pain he was trying to conceal. Lucas's childhood friends had reserved the entire venue for his birthday celebration. But Sophia had never expected Emily to show up here. Everyone knew Lucas had married Sophia just to spite Emily. Three years ago, Emily's identity as a fake heiress was exposed. She broke up with Lucas then and there and left the Evans family behind. Lucas pursued her to the airport, boarded her departing flight, and forced the plane that had already taken off to turn back. Right there on that plane, he proposed to Emily. To his complete surprise, Emily refused without hesitation, declaring that the arranged marriage should be honored by the Evans family's true heiress. Humiliated and acting out of spite, Lucas married Sophia instead. For three years, Sophia had lived as Emily's stand-in. Everyone whispered that if Emily ever returned, Lucas would discard Sophia without a second thought. Sophia had once believed that too, but something had shifted in these past six months—Lucas seemed to be genuinely falling for her. He made grand declarations of love in the press, showered her with luxury homes and cars, and even replaced the cherry tree he'd planted for Emily with a garden full of red roses. In their most tender moments, he'd whisper against her ear, "Let's have a baby, Sophie. I hope they have your smile." Sophia's hand drifted absently to her stomach as she clutched the gift box a little tighter. Inside was a positive pregnancy test—meant to be Lucas's birthday surprise. But now, the timing of the gift felt all wrong. "You still think you're the Evans family princess, Emily? Lucas only has eyes for Sophia now. Why not be with me? A pretty thing like you deserves to be treated right," one of Lucas's friends, Ryan Shaw, sneered. He dragged Emily onto his lap, his hands already roaming over her. "Get your hands off me!" Emily cried, fighting against Ryan's grip as humiliation burned through her. Her resistance only fueled Ryan's excitement. In one swift motion, he shoved her down onto the couch, his powerful body trapping hers. Horrified that Ryan would assault Emily right in front of Lucas, Sophia jumped up to stop him, only to be shoved aside as Lucas already surged into action. As she stumbled, her hands instinctively reached for Lucas's arm, but he brutally shook her off. She hit the floor hard, a jolt of sharp pain shooting from her tailbone straight to her womb. Through the pain-induced haze, she saw Lucas grab Ryan by the collar, drag him off Emily, and pummel his face with brutal, unforgiving fists. "You've overstepped, Ryan. Emily is mine. Even if I discard her, she'll never be yours to touch," Lucas snapped. His words hung in the air, and the entire room fell silent as if frozen in time. Sophia stared at Lucas in disbelief, wondering where she stood in his life now that he had openly claimed Emily as his woman. All eyes in the room were drawn to the scene. Some watched with malicious delight, while others were simply captivated by the unfolding drama. Doubled over in pain, Sophia felt a warm wetness spreading beneath her. Her face paled as a cold dread gripped her heart. "Honey, my stomach hurts," she turned to Lucas instinctively. "Please, take me to the hospital." Without even glancing her way, Lucas removed his jacket and gently placed it around Emily's shoulders. Nestling into his embrace, Emily whispered, her voice trembling, "Lucas, I'm scared. Please take me away from here." "Don't worry," he murmured, holding her close. "I won't let anyone hurt you." Sweeping Emily into his arms, Lucas carried her out of the room, completely ignoring Sophia's pain-racked form shuddering on the floor. Perched comfortably on his shoulder, Emily gazed down at Sophia's crumpled form on the floor, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. The spectators murmured among themselves, still savoring the drama they'd just witnessed. "Emily's definitely the one for Lucas. He hasn't taken his eyes off her all night." "The way Lucas looks at her... I thought it was hatred, but it's clearly something else entirely." "Who could resist someone like her? I certainly wouldn't be able to stay angry." "Poor Sophia. She was just a side character in their love story." At the mention of Sophia's name, the crowd remembered her presence simultaneously, their attention shifting to where she sat. Sophia was in terrible pain and covered in a cold sweat until someone finally noticed her condition and quickly helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?" the guy asked. She gripped his arm tightly as the room spun around her. "Please take me to the hospital. My stomach hurts terribly," she pleaded. Then everything went dark as she fainted. Through the haze of semi-consciousness, distant screams about blood echoed in her ears. When Sophia regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital room. The sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the air as she lay alone in the quiet ward. A nurse tending to her bandages noticed her awakening. "You're awake," she said softly. Sophia's voice came out weak and fearful. "My baby... Is my baby alright?" "Your baby is fine," the nurse reassured her. "But you'll need to take special care. These first few months are particularly delicate in your condition." Relief washed over Sophia as grateful tears fell. "Thank you," she whispered, overwhelmed that her child was safe. Through the emotional turmoil, Sophia's first thought was to share the news with Lucas immediately. Wiping her tears, she reached for her phone and dialed his number. The phone rang several times before Lucas finally picked up. His voice was edged with impatience as he answered, "Not coming home tonight. Don't wait—" "Lucas, my hair's caught in this zipper," Emily's voice interrupted, floating through the line. "Could you give me a hand?" Sophia's knuckles went white around her phone. "Be right there," he said. The call ended before Sophia could form a response. Overnight, things between her and Lucas had reverted to how they were six months ago. Back then, he'd been all cold shoulders and sharp tones. Even in their most intimate moments, he treated her like just another need to be met. To him, she might as well have been a stranger—or worse, just a convenient body. So when he finally let his guard down, she'd been so grateful for the warmth that she fell harder than she ever meant to. She thought her years of longing had finally paid off. But reality slapped her senseless when Lucas chose Emily's safety over their own child's life. After being discharged from the hospital, Sophia caught a taxi home. Midway through the ride, her phone buzzed with a Twitter alert. It was a tweet from Emily: [You told me you'd hold my hand and never let go—not for the rest of our lives.] The attached photo showed Emily dressed like a princess, complete with a tiny crown, her hand locked tightly with a larger, elegant hand. Around the wrist was a bracelet made of prayer beads—the very one Sophia had prayed for in a church last year, when Lucas was burning up with fever. That day, he squeezed her hand and whispered a promise that he would never leave her side. Chapter 2 Ask Him For A Divorce The taxi stopped outside the Nightfall Estate, where Sophia paid the fare and got out of the vehicle. She was just heading inside when a truck carrying young cherry trees rumbled up the drive and stopped near the garden. Workers carefully unloaded the cherry trees and settled them into the prepared holes. Where a vibrant sea of red roses had bloomed just yesterday, now only upturned earth remained, with the plants piled carelessly to the side. A dull ache spread through Sophia's chest as she gazed at the rose petals strewn like crimson tears across the soil. The familiar purr of a luxury car engine approached from behind. Turning around, Sophia saw Lucas step out of the car. He stood tall and straight, radiating a natural air of calm elegance. "Honey..." Sophia began, but the words died on her lips as he leaned back into the car. With gentle care, he helped a woman step out—it was Emily, who looked radiant in an exquisite designer ensemble that made her complexion glow. Only when Emily was steady did Lucas's gaze finally meet Sophia's, those usually warm eyes now regarding her with detached indifference. "Did you need something?" he asked, his tone flat. The cold unfamiliarity in his look struck Sophia's heart like a physical blow. "Why are you tearing out the roses when they were growing so well?" she asked, desperate for his explanation. Those roses had been his special way of confessing his feelings to her. Lucas barely glanced at the destroyed garden. "Emily's not feeling well. She'll be staying with us for a bit." "What does that have to do with the roses?" she pressed. "She's allergic to the pollen," he said curtly, already turning to guide Emily inside. Sophia stood rooted to the spot, her heart breaking. Emily's delicate voice carried through the air. "Lucas, Sophia seems upset. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have complained about the roses." "She doesn't matter to me," Lucas reassured her. "But I worry she'll resent me. Really, I can manage with allergy medication," Emily offered, her voice dripping with false concern. "Medication always has side effects. Don't suggest things that worry me," he replied. Sophia stood motionless as she watched their figures grow smaller in the distance. A silent tear traced its way down her cheek while overwhelming sorrow washed over her. 'I don't matter to him... Yeah, right,' Sophia murmured with bitter irony, the truth of the words settling like a weight in her heart. He hadn't even asked about her absence last night, and now he had ordered her favorite roses to be torn out. The message was clear—she meant less to him than the slightest thought of Emily. For three years, she had devoted herself to him, offering unwavering love and comfort through difficult times. She had believed her constant warmth could thaw even the coldest heart, but Emily's reappearance had erased everything in an instant. She wondered what their intimacy these past six months had truly meant, and what role she had actually played in his life. A sudden twinge in her lower abdomen made her catch her breath. Pale and unsteady, she turned toward the villa. As Sophia stepped into the living room, she saw Emily nestled against Lucas on the sofa, watching with affectionate amusement as he peeled an orange for her. Lucas gently picked away every bit of white pith from the orange segments before arranging them on a plate for Emily. "For you," he said with a soft smile. "Enjoy, my little foodie." As Emily took the plate, she noticed Sophia entering the room. A triumphant smile graced her lips as she called out, "Sophia, would you like some? Lucas peeled these himself. Something you've never experienced, I'm sure." Sophia's gaze fell upon the perfectly prepared orange segments, and she felt a sudden sting behind her eyes. The painful truth was that in all their time together, Lucas had never once peeled an orange for her. She had always been the one serving him. The realization struck her with perfect clarity—Lucas knew well how to be thoughtful, but he simply reserved his kindness for Emily. Sophia felt her heart breaking into pieces as she finally understood how painful comparison could be. "She's perfectly capable of peeling her own fruit," Lucas said dismissively, barely glancing at Sophia. Then he noticed her pale complexion and added, "Are you alright? You look terribly pale." Sophia's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she debated telling Lucas her secret pregnancy. A fragile hope whispered within her—that this truth might finally soften his heart toward her. "I..." Her voice faltered, the words dying on her lips. "If you're ill, see a doctor. This pathetic act is getting tiresome," Lucas said, impatience flashing across his handsome features. He was annoyed by her wounded expression, which seemed to suggest she was the victim of some terrible injustice. Sophia swallowed her unspoken words, her gaze lingering on the man who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. "I'm fine," she murmured. "I'll just go to my room." As she turned toward the staircase, Lucas felt a surge of irritation. 'I must've been too lenient with her, and now she dared to show me attitude,' he thought, fuming. Sophia had only climbed a few steps when the housekeeper, Wendy, appeared descending the stairs with servants carrying boxes. The items looked familiar, but it was the sight of her stuffed doll in Wendy's arms that made Sophia realize everything they carried was hers. In a swift motion, she stepped forward and snatched the doll. Her voice turned icy as she asked, "Wendy, care to explain this?" "Mr. Westwood's orders," Wendy said quietly. "You're to move to the storage room downstairs." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, leaving her mind reeling. She turned to Lucas, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious." They'd already maintained separate bedrooms, but she never imagined that she'd be banished to a storage room instead of even being offered the guest suite after Emily's return. For a fleeting moment under her gaze, Lucas felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly hardened into resolve. "Emily needs the sunroom for her health," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your room gets the best light. It's better for her recovery." The absurdity of it all drew a bitter laugh from Sophia's lips. She thought his previous cruelty—shoving her while pregnant and replacing her roses with Emily's cherry trees—had been the worst it could get. But this new humiliation surpassed even that. All Lucas had done since Emily's return yesterday was talk about her. In just one day, she had turned Sophia's whole life upside down. Sophia expected to feel rage, but instead found only a hollow emptiness settling in her chest. 'Look at him, Sophia,' Sophia thought bitterly. 'This is the man you gave your heart and soul to. Was any of it worth it?' "If you're so worried about her comfort, why not just move her into your room? The master suite gets the best light anyway," Sophia shot back. Lucas responded sharply, "Sophia, you need to watch your tone." Emily's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I know you don't want me here, Sophia. I'll go. Please don't fight with Lucas over me." Sophia saw right through Emily's act. A humorless laugh escaped her as she spat, "You're not going anywhere. I am." Tightening her grip on the stuffed doll, she turned and headed for the door. "Don't you dare, Sophia." Lucas rose to his feet, his voice cutting through the room. "Walk out that door now, and don't expect to ever come back." Sophia's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "I'll make sure you receive the divorce papers," she said, her voice cold and steady. "See that you sign them." "You're asking me for a divorce?" Lucas's voice was low, thick with barely restrained fury. He added, his tone edged with contempt, "Have you forgotten who gave you this life, Sophia? The luxury, the status—all of it came from me. Without my name, you're just that wide-eyed girl fresh off that forgotten little town. You don't get to leave." Chapter 3 The Replaced Medical Result Sophia didn't need to look back to know the condescending smirk that was surely on Lucas's face. She knew he had always despised her. His proposal three years ago had been motivated only by a desire to fulfill the marriage agreement between their families and to exact revenge on Emily. She had been naive enough to believe his empty promises, offering him her genuine love when he saw her as nothing more than a pawn. To him, she would always be a leech, clinging to his wealth and name for survival. But now, she had reached her limit, and she no longer wanted him in her life. Sophia walked out without a backward glance. As she stepped through the gateway, the sound of shattering porcelain echoed behind her, but she no longer cared. Lucas stood amid the shattered remains, fingers pressed to his temples. His face was a mask of simmering anger. He dismissed the mention of divorce as just another one of her calculated moves, a transparent attempt to get his attention by pulling away. Emily watched him hesitantly. "Maybe I shouldn't be staying here, Lucas. Sophia seemed really upset." "It's nothing," Lucas replied evenly. Seeing how the mention of divorce had affected him, she suggested softly, "You could go after her. Women usually respond well to a little reassurance." "I don't have time for that," Lucas said, turning toward the staircase. With a business trip looming, his mind was elsewhere. 'Let her make a scene if she wants to,' he thought. 'She'll cool off and come crawling back. She always does.' ***** Sophia's home was a beautiful 3,200-square-foot apartment with an open-concept layout and sleek modern decor—all paid for with her own earnings. In her study, she printed the divorce papers and a letter resigning from her position. With a steady hand, she signed both, and then summoned a courier to deliver them directly to the Westwood Group. When she married Lucas three years ago, Sophia had joined his company, hoping to build a genuine connection with him. She started at the very bottom as an assistant and gradually earned her way up to department manager. She had wanted nothing more than to be close to him—in their home and at work. But in the end, her efforts were met with cold indifference. Gazing downward, Sophia softly cradled her stomach. "It's just us now, little one," she whispered. The courier arrived at Westwood headquarters while Lucas was away. His chief executive assistant, Kevin Chapman, received the delivery and signed. The moment Kevin saw the contents, he reached for the phone, dialing Lucas's number in haste. "Mr. Westwood, your wife has sent divorce documents." "Burn it all." On the other side of the ocean, Lucas loosened his tie as an unexpected wave of irritation came over him. "But Mrs. Westwood has even submitted her resignation letter..." Kevin replied, his tone hesitant. "She can't survive without this family." The blue flame from Lucas's lighter highlighted the grim set of his features. "Let her be. She'll come crawling back once reality sets in." Meanwhile, Sophia remained completely unaware of his words. Her morning had begun with a call from her mother-in-law, Helen Westwood. "Where are you? Return at once," Helen commanded in her typically imperious manner, leaving no room for discussion. Complying, Sophia drove back to the estate. No sooner had she stepped inside than a velvet box came hurling toward her head, which she narrowly avoided by stepping aside. Helen's shrill voice pierced the air. "How dare you avoid that? You've got some nerve." Sophia's gaze fell upon the velvet box at her feet, and suddenly, she understood why it seemed familiar. She remembered purchasing that exact box to store her pregnancy test results. On Lucas's birthday, she had intended to present it to him as a gift, but he had accidentally pushed her before she could give it to him, resulting in her hospitalization. Her heart leaped as she turned to face Helen's livid expression. 'Could she know about the pregnancy? But something about her reaction seems strange,' she wondered. For three years, Helen had made no secret of her disapproval of Sophia, someone raised in a small town. Yet every time Sophia visited the Westwood residence with Lucas, Helen would consistently nag Sophia about starting a family soon. If Helen knew Sophia was pregnant, she was supposed to be absolutely delighted instead of reacting like this. Helen clutched a medical report, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared down Sophia. "For three years, I've watched your marriage to Lucas, wondering why you never conceived. Now I understand—he married a barren woman. "If you hadn't left this at the hotel and Lucas's friend hadn't been kind enough to deliver it, I'd still be in the dark about your condition." Heart pounding with shock, Sophia ignored Helen's murderous gaze and snatched the document from her hand. The clinical report lay cold and pale in the morning light. There was her name, clearly printed, alongside the devastating diagnosis: "permanent infertility." 'Permanent infertility? But that's impossible. I'm pregnant. Someone must have switched my test results. But who would do such a thing?' Sophia wondered. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "This isn't my..." Emily, who had remained silent until now, suddenly interrupted, "Sophia, the Westwood lineage has been passed down through a single heir for ten generations. Are you trying to ensure Lucas dies without an heir? To extinguish the family line completely?" "How utterly heartless!" Helen exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Sophia as her anger reached its peak. "We've welcomed you with open arms since you married into this family. Yet you've been hiding this from us? To think you'd let our family line die out—it's truly despicable!" she added. Sophia didn't even attempt to explain herself. If they wanted to believe she was barren, so be it—it would only simplify the divorce proceedings. "I only received the results two days ago. I hadn't found the right moment to share the news," Sophia replied, her voice calm. "This wasn't about finding the right moment. You did this intentionally," Helen retorted, her face contorted with rage. "And you planned to give this to Lucas as a gift? What kind of twisted mind would conceive such a thing?" Sophia maintained her silence. Helen took a measured breath, forcing her anger down. "If you can't conceive naturally, I won't hold it against you. I've spoken with Emily, and she's agreed to donate her eggs so you and Lucas can pursue in vitro fertilization." Sophia stared in disbelief at the unexpected turn. "Could you repeat that?" She believed she had misheard because the suggestion was both preposterous and deeply offensive. "If you can't conceive, that's your problem. Emily is being extraordinarily generous by offering her eggs. The least you could do is show some appreciation instead of this ingratitude," Helen sneered. A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. "Perhaps you'd like to accept this generous offer yourself?" "How dare you speak to me like that!" Helen's eyes flashed with fury. "Sophia, you shouldn't speak to Mrs. Westwood that way. She was suggesting that for your sake," Emily said in a honeyed tone, reaching for the glass. As she moved, she made certain to display the prayer beads circling her delicate wrist. Sophia's breath caught—she would recognize the bracelet anywhere. That was the very ones she had sacrificed so much to obtain while praying for Lucas's recovery. It felt like a personal insult, seeing the bracelet that symbolized her love for Lucas now clasped around Emily's wrist. "For my sake?" Sophia repeated, the words tasting bitter as she caught the sly glint of satisfaction in Emily's eyes. It sent a sharp ache through her. She knew this game all too well. Emily had a gift for twisting people's vulnerabilities to her advantage, a lesson Sophia had learned the hard way three years ago. "I'm infertile. What possible use could I have for your eggs?" Sophia asked, her voice cold. "Do you really think I need a constant reminder of what I can't have?" Emily's smile vanished. For Helen's benefit, she bit her lip, her eyes instantly welling with feigned hurt. "Mrs. Westwood," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "I was only trying to help Sophia." Helen immediately comforted Emily by patting her hand. She then shot Sophia a disapproving look. "How can you be so selfish, Sophia? Are you really determined to let the Westwood family line die out?" Sophia gestured dismissively toward Emily. "Well, if she's so fertile, let her handle the baby-making." The thought of Emily getting to be a mother the easy way turned Sophia's stomach. Chapter 4 Take Back Her Things The color drained from both Helen's and Emily's faces. Helen stepped forward, jabbing a finger toward Sophia. "You think you're better than us? Then you give the Westwood family an heir. Don't blame anyone else for your own useless womb." Sophia bit back the sharp retort on her tongue. She was done with this family, done with Lucas. Arguing now would only prolong the inevitable. "Mrs. Westwood," she began, "I've decided—" Lucas's familiar, deep voice cut through the tension from the doorway. "Decided what?" Sophia turned to see Lucas standing there, his clothes rumpled from travel. His assistant, Kevin, hovered behind him with a suitcase in hand. The air in the room was thick with tension, so Kevin knew better than to stay. He simply left the suitcase by the door and made a quick exit. Loosening his tie, Lucas turned to Helen. "Mom, what brings you here?" "If I hadn't come, you'd have let our family name die out," Helen shot back. She then snatched the medical report from Sophia and flung it at Lucas's chest. "See for yourself," she said coldly, and with that, she swept out of the room. Lucas looked down at the document in his hands, and the words "permanent infertility" caused a faint twitch in his brow. His eyes, when they finally lifted to meet Sophia's, were devoid of warmth. "You'll go back to the hospital tomorrow for a full work-up. I will not have a wife who can't give me an heir." A hollow ache spread through Sophia's chest. Any foolish hope she'd been clinging to finally faded. Lucas had never defended her in three years of his mother's constant belittlement. And now, the ease with which he believed this lie revealed the chilling truth of his character. "I have the divorce papers right here," Sophia said, pulling the documents from her bag. She extended them toward him, her voice steady. "Just sign them, and you'll never have to see me again." Lucas didn't even look at the papers. In one swift motion, his hand closed around her throat, pulling her close. He leaned in until his face was mere inches from hers, and she could feel his warm breath and smell the familiar scent of his cologne. There was a time when this closeness would have made her heart flutter. Now, it only made her skin crawl. It was amazing how easy it was to walk away when all the love had drained away. "Sophia, have I been too soft with you?" Lucas's voice was thick with contempt. "Where exactly do you think you'll go without my protection?" She held his gaze without flinching. "That's really none of your concern anymore." "Still got that sharp tongue," he sneered. He released her with a dismissive shove, as if her defiance meant nothing. "Go make me dinner. I'm hungry." A wave of pain shot through Sophia's lower abdomen as she sank into the sofa, her skin turning clammy with an instant, cold sweat. Across the room, Emily slid her arm through Lucas's with practiced ease. "Don't let Sophia bother you," she murmured. "Her little scene was just a cry for your attention." Lucas pulled his tie free, his stern expression melting away as he focused on Emily. "How are you holding up?" he asked, his tone gentler. "I'm fine," she sighed, putting on a pitiful face. "It's just that the medicine is so awfully bitter." "It's bitter because it's strong. You need to keep taking it," he reminded her. "I picked up those candies you like. They're in my suitcase. Go get them yourself." "I know you always look out for me," Emily said, stretching up to press a light kiss to Lucas's cheek. "Consider that your reward." A look of quiet satisfaction crossed his features at the gesture. "I'm going up to shower," he said. "Go ahead," Emily said sweetly, fluttering a wave at him. She waited until Lucas's footsteps faded up the staircase before turning to the suitcase. They carried on as if Sophia weren't standing right there in the same room. Humming cheerfully, Emily unzipped the luggage. Alongside Lucas's neatly folded clothes sat a jar of shimmering candies and an elegant red velvet box that clearly held something valuable. Her eyes skipped over the candy, going straight to the velvet box. When she lifted the lid, a pink diamond necklace lay gleaming, its facets scattering rainbows in the light. "Oh, it's exquisite. I love it," she whispered, her eyes widening. "So the candy was just a decoy. This necklace is what he really wanted me to find." Draping the necklace against her collarbone, Emily turned to face Sophia, who had risen from the sofa. "Well, Sophia? Don't you think it suits me perfectly?" The pink diamond necklace around Emily's neck struck Sophia as oddly familiar. It came to her a moment later—she had coveted it last month while flipping through a magazine. Lucas had seen her fascination and promised to get it for her. The catch was its exclusivity—a single piece, sourced from Melaria, the country where Lucas had been attending to business. "That was for me," Sophia said, her voice calm. The man was disposable, but her possessions were not. She would reclaim what was rightfully hers. With a swift motion, Emily clasped the necklace. "Finders keepers," she said with a mocking grin. Sophia approached for a closer look. Though the necklace was more exquisite than its photograph, any desire for it had vanished. A wary look crossed Emily's face. "What is this about?" "To take what belongs to me, of course," Sophia said, stepping close and extending her hand. "It's time you returned it." Emily's hands instinctively flew to the diamond necklace at her throat. "Lucas will never stand for this, Sophia. You know what I mean to him." Sophia almost laughed. She knew well that Emily held a special place in Lucas's heart. But that was irrelevant. She was only claiming what was hers. "Give the bracelet back to me," Sophia said coldly. It was a token earned through true devotion, and she wouldn't let its significance be tarnished. Realizing Sophia only wanted the simple bracelet, Emily smiled condescendingly. 'Some shortsighted people have no taste,' she thought. Emily twisted the bracelet around her wrist. "I heard you went to Grace Abbey to beg for this good-luck charm," she said. "You are so hung up on him, aren't you?" The hypocrisy of her words was almost laughable. "Give it back," Sophia said, her voice like ice. Emily's eyes flickered to a point behind Sophia, and a sly smile touched her lips. She lowered her voice. "If you want it so badly, why don't you come and take it?" Sophia didn't stop to think. She grabbed Emily's wrist and tugged the bracelet free. The moment it was off, Emily's demeanor shifted completely. "Sophia, what are you doing?" she cried out, her voice suddenly loud and panicked. "Lucas gave this to me." Before Sophia could even turn around, a powerful hand seized her by the collar and hauled her backwards. The fabric dug sharply into her throat, stealing her breath. Stumbling to regain her footing, Sophia looked up to see Lucas. He was already cradling Emily. "Emily, are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern. Emily buried her face in his chest. "I'm fine," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Please, don't be angry with Sophia. She didn't mean it." Lucas's jaw tightened, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. He took a deep breath and fixed Sophia with an icy stare. "Apologize to Emily." Chapter 5 She Wants A Clean Break A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. She had fooled herself into thinking she was numb to Lucas's coldness. But his command still sent a fresh, sharp pain through her chest. She knew there was no point arguing with a man who had already chosen the other woman's side. "I won't apologize," Sophia said, her fist closing tightly around the bracelet. "What for?" Emily looked up at Lucas with well-practiced vulnerability. "I'm causing trouble here, Lucas. I should go." Lucas caught her wrist before she could take a second step. "You're staying right here." His attention snapped back to Sophia, his expression darkening. "Now, Sophia, apologize to Emily." The room blurred as tears filled Sophia's eyes, twisting his familiar face into a stranger's. She lifted the simple bracelet between them. "This is my stuff in the first place. Since when is taking back what was stolen a crime?" "Your stuff? Since when do you have anything of your own?" Lucas's lips curled in a sneer. "I've paid for every stitch of clothing on your back." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, forcing a bitter laugh from her lips. He knew perfectly well she earned her own living, yet he took every opportunity to demean her. "This bracelet came from Grace Abbey," she countered, her voice trembling. "You didn't pay a cent for it." Lucas's eyes dropped to the simple beads in her palm. "You think I care about some cheap bracelet?" he scoffed. Hot tears streamed down Sophia's face without warning. Wiping them away, Sophia made a silent vow—this would be the last time he reduced her to this. "Fine!" With one sharp motion, she snapped the bracelet's cord, sending beads skittering across the floor. Lucas watched the scattered beads come to rest, his hand curling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. He knew how much that bracelet meant to her, but the moment Emily wanted it, he didn't hesitate to take it off and hand it over. Lucas's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "Sophia!" "I want a divorce," Sophia said, her voice eerily calm. As she opened her hand, the last bead from the bracelet clattered onto the floor between them. "Let's just end this." The sound was small, but in the tense silence, it was deafening, echoing in Lucas's mind. He let out a short laugh, his gaze locked on her. "You think a threat will work? You should know better than that by now." 'This has to be a ploy,' he thought to himself. 'She loves me too much to go through with it. She has accepted her role as Emily's replacement from the beginning and has never once tried to leave. 'She would never have the strength to walk away from me.' "Go make us something to eat, and we can forget this ever happened." Lucas was certain he had thrown Sophia a lifeline. He waited, fully expecting her to be overcome with relief and scurry off to the kitchen. He'd been away on business, and days of unfamiliar rich food had left his stomach unsettled. What he craved was Sophia's cooking—simple, hearty food that tasted like home. It was a flavor he couldn't find anywhere else. "You can go eat your ass," Sophia shot back. She picked up her bag, her lips twisting into a scornful smile, and walked out without a backward glance. That smile grated on Lucas's nerves more than the insult itself. In his frustration, his eyes fell on the string of prayer beads lying scattered on the floor, and he gave them an impatient kick. 'So that's her game. She wants to challenge me? I'd like to see just how long her resolve will hold,' he thought, fuming. ***** Sophia sped away from Nightfall Estate, her phone buzzing relentlessly on the passenger seat. Lucas's name flashed across the screen again and again until she finally grabbed it and blocked his number for good. When she looked up at the road, she blinked, her vision blurring for a moment. She braced for the familiar sting of tears, but when her fingers touched her skin, it was dry. It was only then that she noticed the soft patter against the windshield. A fine drizzle had begun to fall, and a quiet melancholy settled over her, as gray as the sky. Up ahead, the flickering hazard lights of a sleek black car broke the rhythm of the rain. A man in a soaked suit, looking to be in his forties, stood beside it, waving frantically at passing traffic. Almost without conscious thought, Sophia found herself flipping on her turn signal and pulling over. She rolled down her window as the man rushed over. "Everything okay?" she asked. "It's my boss," the man said, his voice tight with panic. "He's having a heart attack. The ambulance is stuck in a multi-car accident. Please, can you take us to the hospital?" Sophia hesitated. Letting two strange men into her car, especially in this weather, felt dangerous. Every cautionary tale she'd ever heard flashed through her mind. Seeing her hesitation, the man added urgently, "I promise we're not dangerous. My boss is—" But Sophia was already moving, cutting the engine and stepping out into the downpour. "Just get him to my car, now," she called out as she rushed toward their vehicle. As she got closer, she recognized the distinctive emblem of the black Maybach. Working together, they carefully transferred the elderly man from the luxury sedan into Sophia's more modest car. The old man's lips were tinged with blue, and each ragged breath seemed like a struggle, clear signs of his critical condition. Sliding behind the wheel, Sophia started the car and pulled back onto the road, pushing through the veils of rain. In the backseat, the middle-aged man was a whirlwind of activity on his phone, coordinating with a hospital and alerting the family. Beyond the windows, the storm seemed to intensify, as if trying to match the urgency inside the car. After ensuring everything was in place, the man turned to Sophia with heartfelt appreciation. "You're the only one who stopped in this downpour. We can't thank you enough." A warm smile touched Sophia's lips. "Some things are just meant to be." ***** Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital entrance where medical staff stood ready. The team swiftly transferred the elderly man to a stretcher and hurried him inside for emergency care. Just as Sophia was about to drive away, she spotted a lone leather shoe in the backseat—the one the elderly man had been wearing. After a moment's hesitation, she parked properly and carried the shoe to the reception desk, logging it as a lost item. Sophia was just turning to leave when a group emerged from the hospital's main entrance. At the front of the group was a man whose height and posture commanded attention. He turned his sharp gaze on her, and the intensity in his eyes was so commanding that it felt like a physical pressure. 'That frown means trouble,' Sophia thought. She averted her gaze and continued walking, brushing past the group without a second look. It wasn't until she was back in the driver's seat that she felt the chill of her wet clothes clinging to her skin. As she dried her hair with a towel from the backseat, a notification popped up on her phone while she was opening the navigation app. It was a post from Emily: [Nothing says 'forever' like a soft-boiled egg made with love! My ultimate comfort food.] The post featured two photos—one showed a soft-boiled egg with a ketchup heart, and the other captured a tall man's back as he stood at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Sophia couldn't help but compare. When she was with Lucas, he had acted like even pouring her a glass of water was a significant concession. Cooking a meal was utterly out of the question. The fact that he was now cooking for Emily spoke volumes about where his true affections lay. She closed the page and entered her apartment address into the navigation system before driving out of the parking lot. As she watched the heavy rain outside, a single decisive thought crystallized in her mind—this marriage was over. Chapter 6 Return The Trash To The Dumpster That evening, a text came through from Annabelle Quinn, Sophia's best friend since college, insisting they go out to a lounge. The old Sophia would have declined immediately, conditioned to obey Lucas's rule about her not going out. But now that Sophia was divorcing him, his opinions held no weight. ***** The moment Sophia stepped out of the car, she saw Annabelle waiting by the entrance. "Hope you haven't been waiting long," she said as she approached. "Just got here," Annabelle grinned, looping her arm through Sophia's. "So, what's the special occasion? Did you finally get a night off from your sweetheart?" Sophia struggled to find the words, but she couldn't keep it from her best friend. "I'm getting a divorce," she finally said. "Let me guess," Annabelle said, not one to mince words in front of her best friend. "This is about Emily being back, isn't it?" "It's not just that," Sophia admitted, her voice quiet. It just took seeing the difference for herself to truly see how little her three years of effort had meant. Annabelle threw a supportive arm around Sophia's shoulders. "You should have woken up to this a long time ago." For three years, she had watched Sophia lose herself in a hollow relationship, and it killed Annabelle to see her friend throw everything away for a man who never appreciated her. "Better late than never," Sophia offered with a weak smile. "Damn right it is," Annabelle declared. "Tonight, I'm getting us the best male models in town. You deserve some real attention." They ascended into the pulsating heart of the club, pushing through the glittering crowd toward the exclusive booth Annabelle had booked. As they moved past the entrance to a private booth, a burst of laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway. Amid the noise, Sophia's own name caught her sharp ear. "Got to hand it to Lucas. The minute Emily was back, he moved her right in. Word is, he showed Sophia the door." "Well, she had it coming. Play the simp, and you lose it all. Seriously though, that night in the booth with all the blood? I truly thought a tragedy had occurred, but it was probably just her period." "You're thinking about that? Man, have you had a thing for Sophia all along?" "Who'd pine after some nobody from a backwater? Only Lucas, with his unique preferences, would stick around for three years." "Guess the novelty wore off. Time for a change." Standing in the hallway, Sophia felt a cold stillness settle behind her eyes. The voices clicked into place—Lucas's oldest friends. They had been there that night, spectators to her most shameful moment. Annabelle's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind." But as she moved toward the door, Sophia stopped her with a gentle hand. "This is my battle to fight," Sophia said firmly. With that, Sophia pushed the door open and swept into the room. She settled gracefully onto the sofa, joining their conversation with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you're talking about unique preferences, I top him," she began, her voice deceptively light, "I recycled what Emily threw away. But it looks like I did everyone a favor by returning the trash to the dumpster where it belongs." A stunned silence fell over the room. Every face on the circular sofa stared at her in horrified fascination. Unbeknownst to Sophia, two figures had entered the room behind her during her speech. The guests' eyes darted nervously between Sophia and the newcomers, the air thickening with tension. There stood Lucas and Emily, their expressions dark as storm clouds. Their presence made Sophia turn. Her eyes instantly met the cold, dark stare of Lucas. But she didn't back down. A defiant shrug lifted her shoulders. "Look what the cat dragged in. My trash husband." Emily's eyes instantly glistened with tears. "Sophia, ignore them," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "It's all lies. Lucas and I are just friends." As if to prove her point, she clutched Lucas's arm. "Tell her, Lucas. Make her understand there's nothing going on between us." Sophia's gaze dropped to the hand clinging to Lucas's arm, and a faint, derisive smile touched her mouth. 'Just friends? Did she really expect anyone to believe that?' she thought bitterly. Lucas detached himself from Emily's grip and closed the distance between him and Sophia. The motion broke the tension, stirring his friends into action. "Hey, Lucas, take it easy," one of them said, stepping forward. "She's just reacting to our stupid jokes." "Come on, Sophia, just say you're sorry to Lucas," another one urged. "You know he'll forgive you." The suggestion made Sophia want to laugh bitterly. 'Is this really how they see me? As some lovesick fool who'd come crawling back at the first sign of forgiveness?' she thought. It explained everything—why, for three years, they had shown her phony respect as Lucas's wife while mocking her devotion in private. She had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn't met Lucas seven years ago, if that fateful incident hadn't tied her to him, she would have moved on with her life long ago. "Are you quite done?" Lucas's voice cut through her thoughts as he reached for her arm. She shifted her weight gracefully, letting his hand close on empty air. The rejected gesture hung between them for a beat too long before he withdrew, his features tightening with displeasure. Turning to Emily, who was now dabbing at her eyes, Sophia arched a brow. "There's no need for the waterworks. You're making it look like I'm the one being cruel here." "Sophia, I've treated you like my elder sister. I—" Emily began, trying to defend herself. "Don't," Sophia interrupted, her voice cool. "We arrived minutes apart, and you were first. Let's skip the emotional act." Emily's face turned from pale to deep red as she clenched her jaw in fury. 'Since when has Sophia found this kind of nerve? She used to shrink into silence whenever Lucas was near,' she thought. Despite her three-year absence from the city, Emily had ensured she received every scrap of information about Sophia's life. She knew all about Sophia's pathetic attempts to please Lucas, and she knew exactly how little he cared for his wife. She even knew they kept separate bedrooms, and that on the occasional night Lucas spent with Sophia, he always sent her back to her own room afterward. She knew that to Lucas, Sophia was just a body—convenient, disposable, and utterly unimportant. With a dark expression, Lucas grabbed Sophia's wrist and began pulling her toward the exit. Sophia's answer was a sharp, stinging slap across his cheek. The sound cracked through the air, and a dead silence fell over the room. All eyes were fixed on Sophia in pure shock. Everyone was wondering if she had lost her mind to dare something like that. Lucas slowly worked his jaw, the look in his eyes so dark that it promised retribution. When Sophia resisted, Lucas didn't hesitate. He swept her up onto his shoulder and carried her out of the room. The sight made Emily's heart clench. She'd never seen Lucas be so patient with anyone. Before she knew it, her hand was on his arm. "Lucas..." He didn't turn his head, but some of the tension left his expression. "I'm taking her home," he said firmly. "The driver will return for you when you're ready." Emily could only watch as Lucas walked away with Sophia. She had no right to stop him, but it stung—this was the first time he'd ever left her for another woman, especially one who meant nothing. Her hands tightened at her sides. 'I gave you a chance to walk away quietly, Sophia. You brought this on yourself,' she thought. Sophia's protests echoed down the hallway as she struggled against Lucas's hold. Unsure what was happening between the couple, Annabelle turned away, pretending she hadn't noticed them. Lucas carried Sophia into the elevator and stepped out briskly when it reached the basement level. As the car door opened, Lucas tossed Sophia into the back seat. Struggling upright, she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea from the prolonged time she'd spent upside down. She opened her mouth to curse, but the words died on her lips as the tinted window of a nearby Maybach began to descend. In the shadowy interior, the man's profile was sharp and forbidding. His lips were set in a firm line, and he sat with the imposing stillness of an iceberg, his presence pushing others away. Sensing her gaze, he glanced over, and their eyes locked. Without a word, Sophia averted her gaze and hid her face behind a veil of tangled hair. Chapter 7 Not Her Home Anymore Lucas's black Bentley pulled out of the underground parking garage, but Sophia was still lost in thought about those intense eyes. There was something familiar about them, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen them before. Lucas's voice broke the silence. "Did you follow me here? What are you so concerned about?" "What?" Sophia asked, snapping back to reality. Keeping his eyes on the road, Lucas tried to explain. "You know how my friends are—they never think before they speak. Don't take their words seriously. There's nothing going on between Emily and me." 'If there's really nothing between them, why was he being so protective? He only rushed me out because he was worried I might cause a scene and embarrass Emily,' Sophia thought. "Sure," Sophia said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You and Emily are completely innocent." "I'm trying to explain myself here," Lucas said, his patience wearing thin. "Do you have to be so sarcastic?" Her ungrateful attitude was beginning to irritate him. He remembered how she used to soften at the slightest reassurance. Now, it seemed her patience had worn thin. "Understood," Sophia said, her tone flat. "Is that all?" "I've been clear from the beginning—you are my wife, and that won't change. But if you want this marriage to work, you need to drop your little tricks. I won't play these games." Sophia stayed quiet, struck by his assumption that her mention of divorce was merely a plea for attention. Her silence tightened the air between them. "Don't become someone I resent, Sophia," he said with a frown, his voice low. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips as she turned toward the window, shutting him out completely. Sensing he had pushed too far, Lucas eased his tone. "I had your things moved back to our room. If you want to stay with me, just say so. There's no need for all this." Sophia was left speechless. ***** As the car came to a stop in the courtyard of Nightfall Estate, Sophia stepped out. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the cherry blossom grove in the garden. The sight sent a sharp pang through her chest. She forced her gaze away and continued into the villa. Inside, the decor had been completely redone. The new style, with its unmistakable resemblance to the Evans residence, clearly revealed who had overseen the renovations. She moved through rooms that felt entirely alien to her now, but she kept her thoughts to herself since this was no longer her home. Wendy looked surprised when she saw Sophia. "Mrs. Westwood, you've returned. Have you had your supper?" Sinking into the plush pink sofa, Sophia answered quietly, "Yes, thank you." Wendy offered a tight smile before retreating to her quarters to make a hurried phone call to Helen, reporting the unexpected arrival. Helen had never approved of Sophia, whom she saw as a plain nobody not good enough for her son. The infertility diagnosis hardened Helen's resolve to rush the divorce so Lucas could marry someone worthy of giving her grandchildren. The news of Sophia's sudden return after her dramatic departure kept Helen tossing and turning all night. Lucas had been certain Sophia would confront him about the complete makeover of their home. He stood ready to smooth things over, but she walked through the rooms without comment, her silence leaving him more unsettled than any argument would have. "If the decor isn't to your taste..." Lucas moved to sit beside her, his arms beginning to encircle her. Sophia reached for a throw pillow, tucking it between them as she shifted away from his embrace. The gentle rejection stung, though Lucas reassured himself that this was the same woman who had always adored him. "It's true. I prefer my original choices," she said calmly. "Can you have everything returned to how it was?" The warm, elegant furnishings had vanished, replaced by the overwhelming pinks that Emily favored—a transformation that had turned their home into something resembling a kitschy boutique hotel. Lucas shifted uncomfortably. "Let's not make a big deal out of it. You'll get used to the way things are around here." A faint, knowing smile curved on Sophia's lips as she met his gaze. That smile never failed to get under his skin. "Try to see it from her perspective, Sophia," he said, his voice tightening. "After everything she's been through these past three years, all Emily wants is to feel like she belongs." A wave of exhaustion washed over her. It was like talking to a brick wall. "I know," she said flatly. "You have your entire family backing you up," Lucas shot back, his patience clearly wearing thin. "But Emily? She has nobody else. Is it really so hard for you to be a little more compassionate?" "Funny," Sophia replied, her tone icy. "I was under the impression my adoptive parents were still very much alive." Besides, the Evans family had never once ceased to think about Emily throughout those three years. They made trip after trip to Felarica to celebrate Emily's birthdays and attend her parties. They even missed Sophia's wedding to Lucas because of her. A single social media post from Emily, complaining of her loneliness in Felarica, was all it took for them to drop everything and fly to her side. "Now that you've made it out of that dead-end town, you should be the last person to let Emily sink into it," he shot back. As Sophia looked at him, the last glimmer of hope in her eyes vanished. She knew well enough to stop mentioning divorce. To Lucas, it was just another act—proof that she was the same desperate woman the world thought her to be. If she couldn't get through to Lucas, she was going to find another path. Now, with her infertility diagnosis, she knew Helen would be far more impatient to act on this news. Sophia retreated to the master bedroom. Her possessions had claimed their space, with her clothes occupying half of the vast closet. A sense of normalcy had finally settled between her and Lucas, the kind that belongs to a husband and wife. But it was a fragile peace, already beginning to fray. Lucas was still in the living room when Emily returned. The air around her carried the sharp tang of liquor. Her face was deeply flushed, and she swayed slightly as she walked. He was at her side in an instant, his hand gently steadying her. "You've had far too much to drink," he murmured, his brow furrowed with worry. "This isn't good for you. I don't want to see you like this again." Emily turned into him, her arms finding their way around his neck. "I couldn't help it," she whispered, her voice thick with drink and emotion. "It's the only thing that dulls the ache." Sensing her legs might give way, he simply gathered her into his arms. "Wendy," he said to the housekeeper who had appeared, heading for the stairs. "Would you bring up some electrolyte water for Emily?" "Understood," Wendy replied. Playing the part of the drunken mess, Emily clung to Lucas and sobbed into his chest. "I've always regretted it," she cried. "Letting my pride push you away was the biggest mistake of my life." A long-buried tenderness tugged at Lucas's heart. "Let's try again, Lucas. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice," she whispered, tilting her face up to his. Just as their lips were about to meet, the master bedroom door swung open, and the sudden movement startled the couple in the hallway. Sophia stood in the doorway in her pajamas, watching them with a completely expressionless face. Lucas instantly snapped back to reality, and a rare look of panic flashed across his handsome face. "Sophie, Emily is drunk," he said quickly. "I'm just taking her back to her room." Still draped around him, Emily met Sophia's eyes over Lucas's shoulder. The tears were gone, replaced by a cool, triumphant smirk that held no trace of intoxication. Sophia's mouth curved into a humorless smile as she replied, "Yes, and you're drunk too." Without another word, she stepped back and slammed the door, the turn of the lock echoing decisively behind her. The idea of sleeping next to Lucas made her blood boil. She honestly didn't trust herself to lie beside him all night without her rage getting the better of her. Chapter 8 Divorce Settlement The next morning, as Sophia left her room, the guest room door across the hall opened at the exact same time. Lucas was stepping out, finishing with his tie. He glanced up and went completely still, finding Sophia already watching him from their bedroom doorway. Surprise flashed across his face, and he started with an explanation. "She was a mess last night," he said, his voice low. "I couldn't just leave her." Sophia's eyes dropped to the bright red smudge on his collar. Her eyes were filled with silent scorn as she thought about how filthy it was. She said with icy calm, "Relax, I know perfectly well that nothing would ever happen between you two, even when you don't have a stitch of clothing on." Her words cut off whatever excuse Lucas was about to offer. Anger darkened his features. "Think what you want," he snapped. "My feelings for her are purely brotherly." Sophia's eyes fell to the lipstick stain on his collar again. "So, how does it feel to be so close to your 'sister'?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Following her line of sight, Lucas saw the evidence, and a shadow of guilt crossed his face. "It was an accident," he insisted, his voice tight. "Don't make it sound so sordid." "So filthy," she murmured, shaking her head. As he drew a sharp breath to retaliate, she added with a cold smile, "I mean your shirt." He stared at her, his expression turning to stone. She merely offered a careless shrug and walked away, leaving him fuming in the hallway. Downstairs, Sophia was halfway through her breakfast when her phone vibrated on the table. A quick glance at the screen confirmed it was Helen calling. Just then, Wendy appeared with two additional breakfast plates. Sophia swiped to answer the call, a deliberate smile directed at Wendy. "You're calling so early, Mrs. Westwood." The pointed smile made Wendy's blood run cold, and at the mention of Mrs. Westwood, she was reminded of betraying Sophia by reporting to Helen last night. Stricken with guilt, she almost fumbled the tray. She dropped the plates onto the table and hastily retreated to the safety of the kitchen. A faint, cold smile touched Sophia's lips as Helen's venomous voice filled her ear. "Utterly devoid of manners," Helen sneered. "What else can you expect from someone with such a common background?" Sophia's eyes turned to ice. "Trace any lineage back three generations, Mrs. Westwood, and you'll find humble roots. It's distasteful to scorn your own origins." Helen found herself at a loss for words. Though Lucas's parents both had city roots, his grandparents' generation had all struggled in a backwater. Helen's parents had even lived in a cowshed. So in that regard, Helen was no better than Sophia. "That sharp tongue of yours is exactly why people can't stand you," Helen shot back. Sophia rolled her eyes in contempt. Biting back her anger, Helen forced a calmer tone. "We need to meet. There's a document for you to sign." "What kind of document?" "It'll be clear when you get here." Letting the matter drop, Sophia hung up. As she did, she saw Lucas descending the staircase. He had showered and changed, his hair perfectly styled like a model from the pages of a magazine. She had to admit, he was pleasing to look at. 'With those looks, he certainly has the assets for a career as a gigolo,' Sophia thought wryly. A smug feeling warmed Lucas as her eyes stayed on him. He drew out the chair next to hers and sat down. "Paliston Fashion Week is just around the corner," he offered. "It'll be a good chance for us to get away." In three years of marriage, it was the first time he had ever proposed such a thing. Sophia acknowledged him with a quiet hum, but she felt no spark of happiness or expectation. She saw the offer for what it was—a peace offering, born of the guilt he carried after his betrayal. Her ride showed up shortly after breakfast. Picking up her bag, Sophia walked out the door.
Chapter 1 His First Love Returned Sophia Evans could feel her world beginning to crack the moment she heard the news—the woman her husband, Lucas Westwood, had never gotten over was back. When Sophia arrived at the hotel's VIP suite with a gift, she found Lucas's first love—Emily Evans—being humiliated by his childhood friends. "Lick the wine off my shoe, Emily. I'll give you thirty thousand dollars," one of them said. Emily was forced to kneel on the floor, tears in her defiant eyes as she stared shamefully at Lucas. Lucas watched with a dark expression, saying nothing as he held his temper in check. Sophia halted mid-step, struck by the painful familiarity of the scene. Three years ago, when she had first been welcomed into the Evans family, these same privileged young men had tormented her in exactly the same way to gain Emily's favor. But back then, Lucas hadn't worn this expression of utter heartbreak. "There you are," Lucas said as soon as he spotted Sophia, his arm sliding around her waist in a show of intimacy. Only Sophia could feel the desperate pressure of his grip—a silent testament to the pain he was trying to conceal. Lucas's childhood friends had reserved the entire venue for his birthday celebration. But Sophia had never expected Emily to show up here. Everyone knew Lucas had married Sophia just to spite Emily. Three years ago, Emily's identity as a fake heiress was exposed. She broke up with Lucas then and there and left the Evans family behind. Lucas pursued her to the airport, boarded her departing flight, and forced the plane that had already taken off to turn back. Right there on that plane, he proposed to Emily. To his complete surprise, Emily refused without hesitation, declaring that the arranged marriage should be honored by the Evans family's true heiress. Humiliated and acting out of spite, Lucas married Sophia instead. For three years, Sophia had lived as Emily's stand-in. Everyone whispered that if Emily ever returned, Lucas would discard Sophia without a second thought. Sophia had once believed that too, but something had shifted in these past six months—Lucas seemed to be genuinely falling for her. He made grand declarations of love in the press, showered her with luxury homes and cars, and even replaced the cherry tree he'd planted for Emily with a garden full of red roses. In their most tender moments, he'd whisper against her ear, "Let's have a baby, Sophie. I hope they have your smile." Sophia's hand drifted absently to her stomach as she clutched the gift box a little tighter. Inside was a positive pregnancy test—meant to be Lucas's birthday surprise. But now, the timing of the gift felt all wrong. "You still think you're the Evans family princess, Emily? Lucas only has eyes for Sophia now. Why not be with me? A pretty thing like you deserves to be treated right," one of Lucas's friends, Ryan Shaw, sneered. He dragged Emily onto his lap, his hands already roaming over her. "Get your hands off me!" Emily cried, fighting against Ryan's grip as humiliation burned through her. Her resistance only fueled Ryan's excitement. In one swift motion, he shoved her down onto the couch, his powerful body trapping hers. Horrified that Ryan would assault Emily right in front of Lucas, Sophia jumped up to stop him, only to be shoved aside as Lucas already surged into action. As she stumbled, her hands instinctively reached for Lucas's arm, but he brutally shook her off. She hit the floor hard, a jolt of sharp pain shooting from her tailbone straight to her womb. Through the pain-induced haze, she saw Lucas grab Ryan by the collar, drag him off Emily, and pummel his face with brutal, unforgiving fists. "You've overstepped, Ryan. Emily is mine. Even if I discard her, she'll never be yours to touch," Lucas snapped. His words hung in the air, and the entire room fell silent as if frozen in time. Sophia stared at Lucas in disbelief, wondering where she stood in his life now that he had openly claimed Emily as his woman. All eyes in the room were drawn to the scene. Some watched with malicious delight, while others were simply captivated by the unfolding drama. Doubled over in pain, Sophia felt a warm wetness spreading beneath her. Her face paled as a cold dread gripped her heart. "Honey, my stomach hurts," she turned to Lucas instinctively. "Please, take me to the hospital." Without even glancing her way, Lucas removed his jacket and gently placed it around Emily's shoulders. Nestling into his embrace, Emily whispered, her voice trembling, "Lucas, I'm scared. Please take me away from here." "Don't worry," he murmured, holding her close. "I won't let anyone hurt you." Sweeping Emily into his arms, Lucas carried her out of the room, completely ignoring Sophia's pain-racked form shuddering on the floor. Perched comfortably on his shoulder, Emily gazed down at Sophia's crumpled form on the floor, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. The spectators murmured among themselves, still savoring the drama they'd just witnessed. "Emily's definitely the one for Lucas. He hasn't taken his eyes off her all night." "The way Lucas looks at her... I thought it was hatred, but it's clearly something else entirely." "Who could resist someone like her? I certainly wouldn't be able to stay angry." "Poor Sophia. She was just a side character in their love story." At the mention of Sophia's name, the crowd remembered her presence simultaneously, their attention shifting to where she sat. Sophia was in terrible pain and covered in a cold sweat until someone finally noticed her condition and quickly helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?" the guy asked. She gripped his arm tightly as the room spun around her. "Please take me to the hospital. My stomach hurts terribly," she pleaded. Then everything went dark as she fainted. Through the haze of semi-consciousness, distant screams about blood echoed in her ears. When Sophia regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital room. The sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the air as she lay alone in the quiet ward. A nurse tending to her bandages noticed her awakening. "You're awake," she said softly. Sophia's voice came out weak and fearful. "My baby... Is my baby alright?" "Your baby is fine," the nurse reassured her. "But you'll need to take special care. These first few months are particularly delicate in your condition." Relief washed over Sophia as grateful tears fell. "Thank you," she whispered, overwhelmed that her child was safe. Through the emotional turmoil, Sophia's first thought was to share the news with Lucas immediately. Wiping her tears, she reached for her phone and dialed his number. The phone rang several times before Lucas finally picked up. His voice was edged with impatience as he answered, "Not coming home tonight. Don't wait—" "Lucas, my hair's caught in this zipper," Emily's voice interrupted, floating through the line. "Could you give me a hand?" Sophia's knuckles went white around her phone. "Be right there," he said. The call ended before Sophia could form a response. Overnight, things between her and Lucas had reverted to how they were six months ago. Back then, he'd been all cold shoulders and sharp tones. Even in their most intimate moments, he treated her like just another need to be met. To him, she might as well have been a stranger—or worse, just a convenient body. So when he finally let his guard down, she'd been so grateful for the warmth that she fell harder than she ever meant to. She thought her years of longing had finally paid off. But reality slapped her senseless when Lucas chose Emily's safety over their own child's life. After being discharged from the hospital, Sophia caught a taxi home. Midway through the ride, her phone buzzed with a Twitter alert. It was a tweet from Emily: [You told me you'd hold my hand and never let go—not for the rest of our lives.] The attached photo showed Emily dressed like a princess, complete with a tiny crown, her hand locked tightly with a larger, elegant hand. Around the wrist was a bracelet made of prayer beads—the very one Sophia had prayed for in a church last year, when Lucas was burning up with fever. That day, he squeezed her hand and whispered a promise that he would never leave her side. Chapter 2 Ask Him For A Divorce The taxi stopped outside the Nightfall Estate, where Sophia paid the fare and got out of the vehicle. She was just heading inside when a truck carrying young cherry trees rumbled up the drive and stopped near the garden. Workers carefully unloaded the cherry trees and settled them into the prepared holes. Where a vibrant sea of red roses had bloomed just yesterday, now only upturned earth remained, with the plants piled carelessly to the side. A dull ache spread through Sophia's chest as she gazed at the rose petals strewn like crimson tears across the soil. The familiar purr of a luxury car engine approached from behind. Turning around, Sophia saw Lucas step out of the car. He stood tall and straight, radiating a natural air of calm elegance. "Honey..." Sophia began, but the words died on her lips as he leaned back into the car. With gentle care, he helped a woman step out—it was Emily, who looked radiant in an exquisite designer ensemble that made her complexion glow. Only when Emily was steady did Lucas's gaze finally meet Sophia's, those usually warm eyes now regarding her with detached indifference. "Did you need something?" he asked, his tone flat. The cold unfamiliarity in his look struck Sophia's heart like a physical blow. "Why are you tearing out the roses when they were growing so well?" she asked, desperate for his explanation. Those roses had been his special way of confessing his feelings to her. Lucas barely glanced at the destroyed garden. "Emily's not feeling well. She'll be staying with us for a bit." "What does that have to do with the roses?" she pressed. "She's allergic to the pollen," he said curtly, already turning to guide Emily inside. Sophia stood rooted to the spot, her heart breaking. Emily's delicate voice carried through the air. "Lucas, Sophia seems upset. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have complained about the roses." "She doesn't matter to me," Lucas reassured her. "But I worry she'll resent me. Really, I can manage with allergy medication," Emily offered, her voice dripping with false concern. "Medication always has side effects. Don't suggest things that worry me," he replied. Sophia stood motionless as she watched their figures grow smaller in the distance. A silent tear traced its way down her cheek while overwhelming sorrow washed over her. 'I don't matter to him... Yeah, right,' Sophia murmured with bitter irony, the truth of the words settling like a weight in her heart. He hadn't even asked about her absence last night, and now he had ordered her favorite roses to be torn out. The message was clear—she meant less to him than the slightest thought of Emily. For three years, she had devoted herself to him, offering unwavering love and comfort through difficult times. She had believed her constant warmth could thaw even the coldest heart, but Emily's reappearance had erased everything in an instant. She wondered what their intimacy these past six months had truly meant, and what role she had actually played in his life. A sudden twinge in her lower abdomen made her catch her breath. Pale and unsteady, she turned toward the villa. As Sophia stepped into the living room, she saw Emily nestled against Lucas on the sofa, watching with affectionate amusement as he peeled an orange for her. Lucas gently picked away every bit of white pith from the orange segments before arranging them on a plate for Emily. "For you," he said with a soft smile. "Enjoy, my little foodie." As Emily took the plate, she noticed Sophia entering the room. A triumphant smile graced her lips as she called out, "Sophia, would you like some? Lucas peeled these himself. Something you've never experienced, I'm sure." Sophia's gaze fell upon the perfectly prepared orange segments, and she felt a sudden sting behind her eyes. The painful truth was that in all their time together, Lucas had never once peeled an orange for her. She had always been the one serving him. The realization struck her with perfect clarity—Lucas knew well how to be thoughtful, but he simply reserved his kindness for Emily. Sophia felt her heart breaking into pieces as she finally understood how painful comparison could be. "She's perfectly capable of peeling her own fruit," Lucas said dismissively, barely glancing at Sophia. Then he noticed her pale complexion and added, "Are you alright? You look terribly pale." Sophia's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she debated telling Lucas her secret pregnancy. A fragile hope whispered within her—that this truth might finally soften his heart toward her. "I..." Her voice faltered, the words dying on her lips. "If you're ill, see a doctor. This pathetic act is getting tiresome," Lucas said, impatience flashing across his handsome features. He was annoyed by her wounded expression, which seemed to suggest she was the victim of some terrible injustice. Sophia swallowed her unspoken words, her gaze lingering on the man who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. "I'm fine," she murmured. "I'll just go to my room." As she turned toward the staircase, Lucas felt a surge of irritation. 'I must've been too lenient with her, and now she dared to show me attitude,' he thought, fuming. Sophia had only climbed a few steps when the housekeeper, Wendy, appeared descending the stairs with servants carrying boxes. The items looked familiar, but it was the sight of her stuffed doll in Wendy's arms that made Sophia realize everything they carried was hers. In a swift motion, she stepped forward and snatched the doll. Her voice turned icy as she asked, "Wendy, care to explain this?" "Mr. Westwood's orders," Wendy said quietly. "You're to move to the storage room downstairs." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, leaving her mind reeling. She turned to Lucas, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious." They'd already maintained separate bedrooms, but she never imagined that she'd be banished to a storage room instead of even being offered the guest suite after Emily's return. For a fleeting moment under her gaze, Lucas felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly hardened into resolve. "Emily needs the sunroom for her health," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your room gets the best light. It's better for her recovery." The absurdity of it all drew a bitter laugh from Sophia's lips. She thought his previous cruelty—shoving her while pregnant and replacing her roses with Emily's cherry trees—had been the worst it could get. But this new humiliation surpassed even that. All Lucas had done since Emily's return yesterday was talk about her. In just one day, she had turned Sophia's whole life upside down. Sophia expected to feel rage, but instead found only a hollow emptiness settling in her chest. 'Look at him, Sophia,' Sophia thought bitterly. 'This is the man you gave your heart and soul to. Was any of it worth it?' "If you're so worried about her comfort, why not just move her into your room? The master suite gets the best light anyway," Sophia shot back. Lucas responded sharply, "Sophia, you need to watch your tone." Emily's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I know you don't want me here, Sophia. I'll go. Please don't fight with Lucas over me." Sophia saw right through Emily's act. A humorless laugh escaped her as she spat, "You're not going anywhere. I am." Tightening her grip on the stuffed doll, she turned and headed for the door. "Don't you dare, Sophia." Lucas rose to his feet, his voice cutting through the room. "Walk out that door now, and don't expect to ever come back." Sophia's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "I'll make sure you receive the divorce papers," she said, her voice cold and steady. "See that you sign them." "You're asking me for a divorce?" Lucas's voice was low, thick with barely restrained fury. He added, his tone edged with contempt, "Have you forgotten who gave you this life, Sophia? The luxury, the status—all of it came from me. Without my name, you're just that wide-eyed girl fresh off that forgotten little town. You don't get to leave." Chapter 3 The Replaced Medical Result Sophia didn't need to look back to know the condescending smirk that was surely on Lucas's face. She knew he had always despised her. His proposal three years ago had been motivated only by a desire to fulfill the marriage agreement between their families and to exact revenge on Emily. She had been naive enough to believe his empty promises, offering him her genuine love when he saw her as nothing more than a pawn. To him, she would always be a leech, clinging to his wealth and name for survival. But now, she had reached her limit, and she no longer wanted him in her life. Sophia walked out without a backward glance. As she stepped through the gateway, the sound of shattering porcelain echoed behind her, but she no longer cared. Lucas stood amid the shattered remains, fingers pressed to his temples. His face was a mask of simmering anger. He dismissed the mention of divorce as just another one of her calculated moves, a transparent attempt to get his attention by pulling away. Emily watched him hesitantly. "Maybe I shouldn't be staying here, Lucas. Sophia seemed really upset." "It's nothing," Lucas replied evenly. Seeing how the mention of divorce had affected him, she suggested softly, "You could go after her. Women usually respond well to a little reassurance." "I don't have time for that," Lucas said, turning toward the staircase. With a business trip looming, his mind was elsewhere. 'Let her make a scene if she wants to,' he thought. 'She'll cool off and come crawling back. She always does.' ***** Sophia's home was a beautiful 3,200-square-foot apartment with an open-concept layout and sleek modern decor—all paid for with her own earnings. In her study, she printed the divorce papers and a letter resigning from her position. With a steady hand, she signed both, and then summoned a courier to deliver them directly to the Westwood Group. When she married Lucas three years ago, Sophia had joined his company, hoping to build a genuine connection with him. She started at the very bottom as an assistant and gradually earned her way up to department manager. She had wanted nothing more than to be close to him—in their home and at work. But in the end, her efforts were met with cold indifference. Gazing downward, Sophia softly cradled her stomach. "It's just us now, little one," she whispered. The courier arrived at Westwood headquarters while Lucas was away. His chief executive assistant, Kevin Chapman, received the delivery and signed. The moment Kevin saw the contents, he reached for the phone, dialing Lucas's number in haste. "Mr. Westwood, your wife has sent divorce documents." "Burn it all." On the other side of the ocean, Lucas loosened his tie as an unexpected wave of irritation came over him. "But Mrs. Westwood has even submitted her resignation letter..." Kevin replied, his tone hesitant. "She can't survive without this family." The blue flame from Lucas's lighter highlighted the grim set of his features. "Let her be. She'll come crawling back once reality sets in." Meanwhile, Sophia remained completely unaware of his words. Her morning had begun with a call from her mother-in-law, Helen Westwood. "Where are you? Return at once," Helen commanded in her typically imperious manner, leaving no room for discussion. Complying, Sophia drove back to the estate. No sooner had she stepped inside than a velvet box came hurling toward her head, which she narrowly avoided by stepping aside. Helen's shrill voice pierced the air. "How dare you avoid that? You've got some nerve." Sophia's gaze fell upon the velvet box at her feet, and suddenly, she understood why it seemed familiar. She remembered purchasing that exact box to store her pregnancy test results. On Lucas's birthday, she had intended to present it to him as a gift, but he had accidentally pushed her before she could give it to him, resulting in her hospitalization. Her heart leaped as she turned to face Helen's livid expression. 'Could she know about the pregnancy? But something about her reaction seems strange,' she wondered. For three years, Helen had made no secret of her disapproval of Sophia, someone raised in a small town. Yet every time Sophia visited the Westwood residence with Lucas, Helen would consistently nag Sophia about starting a family soon. If Helen knew Sophia was pregnant, she was supposed to be absolutely delighted instead of reacting like this. Helen clutched a medical report, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared down Sophia. "For three years, I've watched your marriage to Lucas, wondering why you never conceived. Now I understand—he married a barren woman. "If you hadn't left this at the hotel and Lucas's friend hadn't been kind enough to deliver it, I'd still be in the dark about your condition." Heart pounding with shock, Sophia ignored Helen's murderous gaze and snatched the document from her hand. The clinical report lay cold and pale in the morning light. There was her name, clearly printed, alongside the devastating diagnosis: "permanent infertility." 'Permanent infertility? But that's impossible. I'm pregnant. Someone must have switched my test results. But who would do such a thing?' Sophia wondered. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "This isn't my..." Emily, who had remained silent until now, suddenly interrupted, "Sophia, the Westwood lineage has been passed down through a single heir for ten generations. Are you trying to ensure Lucas dies without an heir? To extinguish the family line completely?" "How utterly heartless!" Helen exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Sophia as her anger reached its peak. "We've welcomed you with open arms since you married into this family. Yet you've been hiding this from us? To think you'd let our family line die out—it's truly despicable!" she added. Sophia didn't even attempt to explain herself. If they wanted to believe she was barren, so be it—it would only simplify the divorce proceedings. "I only received the results two days ago. I hadn't found the right moment to share the news," Sophia replied, her voice calm. "This wasn't about finding the right moment. You did this intentionally," Helen retorted, her face contorted with rage. "And you planned to give this to Lucas as a gift? What kind of twisted mind would conceive such a thing?" Sophia maintained her silence. Helen took a measured breath, forcing her anger down. "If you can't conceive naturally, I won't hold it against you. I've spoken with Emily, and she's agreed to donate her eggs so you and Lucas can pursue in vitro fertilization." Sophia stared in disbelief at the unexpected turn. "Could you repeat that?" She believed she had misheard because the suggestion was both preposterous and deeply offensive. "If you can't conceive, that's your problem. Emily is being extraordinarily generous by offering her eggs. The least you could do is show some appreciation instead of this ingratitude," Helen sneered. A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. "Perhaps you'd like to accept this generous offer yourself?" "How dare you speak to me like that!" Helen's eyes flashed with fury. "Sophia, you shouldn't speak to Mrs. Westwood that way. She was suggesting that for your sake," Emily said in a honeyed tone, reaching for the glass. As she moved, she made certain to display the prayer beads circling her delicate wrist. Sophia's breath caught—she would recognize the bracelet anywhere. That was the very ones she had sacrificed so much to obtain while praying for Lucas's recovery. It felt like a personal insult, seeing the bracelet that symbolized her love for Lucas now clasped around Emily's wrist. "For my sake?" Sophia repeated, the words tasting bitter as she caught the sly glint of satisfaction in Emily's eyes. It sent a sharp ache through her. She knew this game all too well. Emily had a gift for twisting people's vulnerabilities to her advantage, a lesson Sophia had learned the hard way three years ago. "I'm infertile. What possible use could I have for your eggs?" Sophia asked, her voice cold. "Do you really think I need a constant reminder of what I can't have?" Emily's smile vanished. For Helen's benefit, she bit her lip, her eyes instantly welling with feigned hurt. "Mrs. Westwood," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "I was only trying to help Sophia." Helen immediately comforted Emily by patting her hand. She then shot Sophia a disapproving look. "How can you be so selfish, Sophia? Are you really determined to let the Westwood family line die out?" Sophia gestured dismissively toward Emily. "Well, if she's so fertile, let her handle the baby-making." The thought of Emily getting to be a mother the easy way turned Sophia's stomach. Chapter 4 Take Back Her Things The color drained from both Helen's and Emily's faces. Helen stepped forward, jabbing a finger toward Sophia. "You think you're better than us? Then you give the Westwood family an heir. Don't blame anyone else for your own useless womb." Sophia bit back the sharp retort on her tongue. She was done with this family, done with Lucas. Arguing now would only prolong the inevitable. "Mrs. Westwood," she began, "I've decided—" Lucas's familiar, deep voice cut through the tension from the doorway. "Decided what?" Sophia turned to see Lucas standing there, his clothes rumpled from travel. His assistant, Kevin, hovered behind him with a suitcase in hand. The air in the room was thick with tension, so Kevin knew better than to stay. He simply left the suitcase by the door and made a quick exit. Loosening his tie, Lucas turned to Helen. "Mom, what brings you here?" "If I hadn't come, you'd have let our family name die out," Helen shot back. She then snatched the medical report from Sophia and flung it at Lucas's chest. "See for yourself," she said coldly, and with that, she swept out of the room. Lucas looked down at the document in his hands, and the words "permanent infertility" caused a faint twitch in his brow. His eyes, when they finally lifted to meet Sophia's, were devoid of warmth. "You'll go back to the hospital tomorrow for a full work-up. I will not have a wife who can't give me an heir." A hollow ache spread through Sophia's chest. Any foolish hope she'd been clinging to finally faded. Lucas had never defended her in three years of his mother's constant belittlement. And now, the ease with which he believed this lie revealed the chilling truth of his character. "I have the divorce papers right here," Sophia said, pulling the documents from her bag. She extended them toward him, her voice steady. "Just sign them, and you'll never have to see me again." Lucas didn't even look at the papers. In one swift motion, his hand closed around her throat, pulling her close. He leaned in until his face was mere inches from hers, and she could feel his warm breath and smell the familiar scent of his cologne. There was a time when this closeness would have made her heart flutter. Now, it only made her skin crawl. It was amazing how easy it was to walk away when all the love had drained away. "Sophia, have I been too soft with you?" Lucas's voice was thick with contempt. "Where exactly do you think you'll go without my protection?" She held his gaze without flinching. "That's really none of your concern anymore." "Still got that sharp tongue," he sneered. He released her with a dismissive shove, as if her defiance meant nothing. "Go make me dinner. I'm hungry." A wave of pain shot through Sophia's lower abdomen as she sank into the sofa, her skin turning clammy with an instant, cold sweat. Across the room, Emily slid her arm through Lucas's with practiced ease. "Don't let Sophia bother you," she murmured. "Her little scene was just a cry for your attention." Lucas pulled his tie free, his stern expression melting away as he focused on Emily. "How are you holding up?" he asked, his tone gentler. "I'm fine," she sighed, putting on a pitiful face. "It's just that the medicine is so awfully bitter." "It's bitter because it's strong. You need to keep taking it," he reminded her. "I picked up those candies you like. They're in my suitcase. Go get them yourself." "I know you always look out for me," Emily said, stretching up to press a light kiss to Lucas's cheek. "Consider that your reward." A look of quiet satisfaction crossed his features at the gesture. "I'm going up to shower," he said. "Go ahead," Emily said sweetly, fluttering a wave at him. She waited until Lucas's footsteps faded up the staircase before turning to the suitcase. They carried on as if Sophia weren't standing right there in the same room. Humming cheerfully, Emily unzipped the luggage. Alongside Lucas's neatly folded clothes sat a jar of shimmering candies and an elegant red velvet box that clearly held something valuable. Her eyes skipped over the candy, going straight to the velvet box. When she lifted the lid, a pink diamond necklace lay gleaming, its facets scattering rainbows in the light. "Oh, it's exquisite. I love it," she whispered, her eyes widening. "So the candy was just a decoy. This necklace is what he really wanted me to find." Draping the necklace against her collarbone, Emily turned to face Sophia, who had risen from the sofa. "Well, Sophia? Don't you think it suits me perfectly?" The pink diamond necklace around Emily's neck struck Sophia as oddly familiar. It came to her a moment later—she had coveted it last month while flipping through a magazine. Lucas had seen her fascination and promised to get it for her. The catch was its exclusivity—a single piece, sourced from Melaria, the country where Lucas had been attending to business. "That was for me," Sophia said, her voice calm. The man was disposable, but her possessions were not. She would reclaim what was rightfully hers. With a swift motion, Emily clasped the necklace. "Finders keepers," she said with a mocking grin. Sophia approached for a closer look. Though the necklace was more exquisite than its photograph, any desire for it had vanished. A wary look crossed Emily's face. "What is this about?" "To take what belongs to me, of course," Sophia said, stepping close and extending her hand. "It's time you returned it." Emily's hands instinctively flew to the diamond necklace at her throat. "Lucas will never stand for this, Sophia. You know what I mean to him." Sophia almost laughed. She knew well that Emily held a special place in Lucas's heart. But that was irrelevant. She was only claiming what was hers. "Give the bracelet back to me," Sophia said coldly. It was a token earned through true devotion, and she wouldn't let its significance be tarnished. Realizing Sophia only wanted the simple bracelet, Emily smiled condescendingly. 'Some shortsighted people have no taste,' she thought. Emily twisted the bracelet around her wrist. "I heard you went to Grace Abbey to beg for this good-luck charm," she said. "You are so hung up on him, aren't you?" The hypocrisy of her words was almost laughable. "Give it back," Sophia said, her voice like ice. Emily's eyes flickered to a point behind Sophia, and a sly smile touched her lips. She lowered her voice. "If you want it so badly, why don't you come and take it?" Sophia didn't stop to think. She grabbed Emily's wrist and tugged the bracelet free. The moment it was off, Emily's demeanor shifted completely. "Sophia, what are you doing?" she cried out, her voice suddenly loud and panicked. "Lucas gave this to me." Before Sophia could even turn around, a powerful hand seized her by the collar and hauled her backwards. The fabric dug sharply into her throat, stealing her breath. Stumbling to regain her footing, Sophia looked up to see Lucas. He was already cradling Emily. "Emily, are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern. Emily buried her face in his chest. "I'm fine," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Please, don't be angry with Sophia. She didn't mean it." Lucas's jaw tightened, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. He took a deep breath and fixed Sophia with an icy stare. "Apologize to Emily." Chapter 5 She Wants A Clean Break A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. She had fooled herself into thinking she was numb to Lucas's coldness. But his command still sent a fresh, sharp pain through her chest. She knew there was no point arguing with a man who had already chosen the other woman's side. "I won't apologize," Sophia said, her fist closing tightly around the bracelet. "What for?" Emily looked up at Lucas with well-practiced vulnerability. "I'm causing trouble here, Lucas. I should go." Lucas caught her wrist before she could take a second step. "You're staying right here." His attention snapped back to Sophia, his expression darkening. "Now, Sophia, apologize to Emily." The room blurred as tears filled Sophia's eyes, twisting his familiar face into a stranger's. She lifted the simple bracelet between them. "This is my stuff in the first place. Since when is taking back what was stolen a crime?" "Your stuff? Since when do you have anything of your own?" Lucas's lips curled in a sneer. "I've paid for every stitch of clothing on your back." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, forcing a bitter laugh from her lips. He knew perfectly well she earned her own living, yet he took every opportunity to demean her. "This bracelet came from Grace Abbey," she countered, her voice trembling. "You didn't pay a cent for it." Lucas's eyes dropped to the simple beads in her palm. "You think I care about some cheap bracelet?" he scoffed. Hot tears streamed down Sophia's face without warning. Wiping them away, Sophia made a silent vow—this would be the last time he reduced her to this. "Fine!" With one sharp motion, she snapped the bracelet's cord, sending beads skittering across the floor. Lucas watched the scattered beads come to rest, his hand curling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. He knew how much that bracelet meant to her, but the moment Emily wanted it, he didn't hesitate to take it off and hand it over. Lucas's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "Sophia!" "I want a divorce," Sophia said, her voice eerily calm. As she opened her hand, the last bead from the bracelet clattered onto the floor between them. "Let's just end this." The sound was small, but in the tense silence, it was deafening, echoing in Lucas's mind. He let out a short laugh, his gaze locked on her. "You think a threat will work? You should know better than that by now." 'This has to be a ploy,' he thought to himself. 'She loves me too much to go through with it. She has accepted her role as Emily's replacement from the beginning and has never once tried to leave. 'She would never have the strength to walk away from me.' "Go make us something to eat, and we can forget this ever happened." Lucas was certain he had thrown Sophia a lifeline. He waited, fully expecting her to be overcome with relief and scurry off to the kitchen. He'd been away on business, and days of unfamiliar rich food had left his stomach unsettled. What he craved was Sophia's cooking—simple, hearty food that tasted like home. It was a flavor he couldn't find anywhere else. "You can go eat your ass," Sophia shot back. She picked up her bag, her lips twisting into a scornful smile, and walked out without a backward glance. That smile grated on Lucas's nerves more than the insult itself. In his frustration, his eyes fell on the string of prayer beads lying scattered on the floor, and he gave them an impatient kick. 'So that's her game. She wants to challenge me? I'd like to see just how long her resolve will hold,' he thought, fuming. ***** Sophia sped away from Nightfall Estate, her phone buzzing relentlessly on the passenger seat. Lucas's name flashed across the screen again and again until she finally grabbed it and blocked his number for good. When she looked up at the road, she blinked, her vision blurring for a moment. She braced for the familiar sting of tears, but when her fingers touched her skin, it was dry. It was only then that she noticed the soft patter against the windshield. A fine drizzle had begun to fall, and a quiet melancholy settled over her, as gray as the sky. Up ahead, the flickering hazard lights of a sleek black car broke the rhythm of the rain. A man in a soaked suit, looking to be in his forties, stood beside it, waving frantically at passing traffic. Almost without conscious thought, Sophia found herself flipping on her turn signal and pulling over. She rolled down her window as the man rushed over. "Everything okay?" she asked. "It's my boss," the man said, his voice tight with panic. "He's having a heart attack. The ambulance is stuck in a multi-car accident. Please, can you take us to the hospital?" Sophia hesitated. Letting two strange men into her car, especially in this weather, felt dangerous. Every cautionary tale she'd ever heard flashed through her mind. Seeing her hesitation, the man added urgently, "I promise we're not dangerous. My boss is—" But Sophia was already moving, cutting the engine and stepping out into the downpour. "Just get him to my car, now," she called out as she rushed toward their vehicle. As she got closer, she recognized the distinctive emblem of the black Maybach. Working together, they carefully transferred the elderly man from the luxury sedan into Sophia's more modest car. The old man's lips were tinged with blue, and each ragged breath seemed like a struggle, clear signs of his critical condition. Sliding behind the wheel, Sophia started the car and pulled back onto the road, pushing through the veils of rain. In the backseat, the middle-aged man was a whirlwind of activity on his phone, coordinating with a hospital and alerting the family. Beyond the windows, the storm seemed to intensify, as if trying to match the urgency inside the car. After ensuring everything was in place, the man turned to Sophia with heartfelt appreciation. "You're the only one who stopped in this downpour. We can't thank you enough." A warm smile touched Sophia's lips. "Some things are just meant to be." ***** Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital entrance where medical staff stood ready. The team swiftly transferred the elderly man to a stretcher and hurried him inside for emergency care. Just as Sophia was about to drive away, she spotted a lone leather shoe in the backseat—the one the elderly man had been wearing. After a moment's hesitation, she parked properly and carried the shoe to the reception desk, logging it as a lost item. Sophia was just turning to leave when a group emerged from the hospital's main entrance. At the front of the group was a man whose height and posture commanded attention. He turned his sharp gaze on her, and the intensity in his eyes was so commanding that it felt like a physical pressure. 'That frown means trouble,' Sophia thought. She averted her gaze and continued walking, brushing past the group without a second look. It wasn't until she was back in the driver's seat that she felt the chill of her wet clothes clinging to her skin. As she dried her hair with a towel from the backseat, a notification popped up on her phone while she was opening the navigation app. It was a post from Emily: [Nothing says 'forever' like a soft-boiled egg made with love! My ultimate comfort food.] The post featured two photos—one showed a soft-boiled egg with a ketchup heart, and the other captured a tall man's back as he stood at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Sophia couldn't help but compare. When she was with Lucas, he had acted like even pouring her a glass of water was a significant concession. Cooking a meal was utterly out of the question. The fact that he was now cooking for Emily spoke volumes about where his true affections lay. She closed the page and entered her apartment address into the navigation system before driving out of the parking lot. As she watched the heavy rain outside, a single decisive thought crystallized in her mind—this marriage was over. Chapter 6 Return The Trash To The Dumpster That evening, a text came through from Annabelle Quinn, Sophia's best friend since college, insisting they go out to a lounge. The old Sophia would have declined immediately, conditioned to obey Lucas's rule about her not going out. But now that Sophia was divorcing him, his opinions held no weight. ***** The moment Sophia stepped out of the car, she saw Annabelle waiting by the entrance. "Hope you haven't been waiting long," she said as she approached. "Just got here," Annabelle grinned, looping her arm through Sophia's. "So, what's the special occasion? Did you finally get a night off from your sweetheart?" Sophia struggled to find the words, but she couldn't keep it from her best friend. "I'm getting a divorce," she finally said. "Let me guess," Annabelle said, not one to mince words in front of her best friend. "This is about Emily being back, isn't it?" "It's not just that," Sophia admitted, her voice quiet. It just took seeing the difference for herself to truly see how little her three years of effort had meant. Annabelle threw a supportive arm around Sophia's shoulders. "You should have woken up to this a long time ago." For three years, she had watched Sophia lose herself in a hollow relationship, and it killed Annabelle to see her friend throw everything away for a man who never appreciated her. "Better late than never," Sophia offered with a weak smile. "Damn right it is," Annabelle declared. "Tonight, I'm getting us the best male models in town. You deserve some real attention." They ascended into the pulsating heart of the club, pushing through the glittering crowd toward the exclusive booth Annabelle had booked. As they moved past the entrance to a private booth, a burst of laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway. Amid the noise, Sophia's own name caught her sharp ear. "Got to hand it to Lucas. The minute Emily was back, he moved her right in. Word is, he showed Sophia the door." "Well, she had it coming. Play the simp, and you lose it all. Seriously though, that night in the booth with all the blood? I truly thought a tragedy had occurred, but it was probably just her period." "You're thinking about that? Man, have you had a thing for Sophia all along?" "Who'd pine after some nobody from a backwater? Only Lucas, with his unique preferences, would stick around for three years." "Guess the novelty wore off. Time for a change." Standing in the hallway, Sophia felt a cold stillness settle behind her eyes. The voices clicked into place—Lucas's oldest friends. They had been there that night, spectators to her most shameful moment. Annabelle's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind." But as she moved toward the door, Sophia stopped her with a gentle hand. "This is my battle to fight," Sophia said firmly. With that, Sophia pushed the door open and swept into the room. She settled gracefully onto the sofa, joining their conversation with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you're talking about unique preferences, I top him," she began, her voice deceptively light, "I recycled what Emily threw away. But it looks like I did everyone a favor by returning the trash to the dumpster where it belongs." A stunned silence fell over the room. Every face on the circular sofa stared at her in horrified fascination. Unbeknownst to Sophia, two figures had entered the room behind her during her speech. The guests' eyes darted nervously between Sophia and the newcomers, the air thickening with tension. There stood Lucas and Emily, their expressions dark as storm clouds. Their presence made Sophia turn. Her eyes instantly met the cold, dark stare of Lucas. But she didn't back down. A defiant shrug lifted her shoulders. "Look what the cat dragged in. My trash husband." Emily's eyes instantly glistened with tears. "Sophia, ignore them," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "It's all lies. Lucas and I are just friends." As if to prove her point, she clutched Lucas's arm. "Tell her, Lucas. Make her understand there's nothing going on between us." Sophia's gaze dropped to the hand clinging to Lucas's arm, and a faint, derisive smile touched her mouth. 'Just friends? Did she really expect anyone to believe that?' she thought bitterly. Lucas detached himself from Emily's grip and closed the distance between him and Sophia. The motion broke the tension, stirring his friends into action. "Hey, Lucas, take it easy," one of them said, stepping forward. "She's just reacting to our stupid jokes." "Come on, Sophia, just say you're sorry to Lucas," another one urged. "You know he'll forgive you." The suggestion made Sophia want to laugh bitterly. 'Is this really how they see me? As some lovesick fool who'd come crawling back at the first sign of forgiveness?' she thought. It explained everything—why, for three years, they had shown her phony respect as Lucas's wife while mocking her devotion in private. She had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn't met Lucas seven years ago, if that fateful incident hadn't tied her to him, she would have moved on with her life long ago. "Are you quite done?" Lucas's voice cut through her thoughts as he reached for her arm. She shifted her weight gracefully, letting his hand close on empty air. The rejected gesture hung between them for a beat too long before he withdrew, his features tightening with displeasure. Turning to Emily, who was now dabbing at her eyes, Sophia arched a brow. "There's no need for the waterworks. You're making it look like I'm the one being cruel here." "Sophia, I've treated you like my elder sister. I—" Emily began, trying to defend herself. "Don't," Sophia interrupted, her voice cool. "We arrived minutes apart, and you were first. Let's skip the emotional act." Emily's face turned from pale to deep red as she clenched her jaw in fury. 'Since when has Sophia found this kind of nerve? She used to shrink into silence whenever Lucas was near,' she thought. Despite her three-year absence from the city, Emily had ensured she received every scrap of information about Sophia's life. She knew all about Sophia's pathetic attempts to please Lucas, and she knew exactly how little he cared for his wife. She even knew they kept separate bedrooms, and that on the occasional night Lucas spent with Sophia, he always sent her back to her own room afterward. She knew that to Lucas, Sophia was just a body—convenient, disposable, and utterly unimportant. With a dark expression, Lucas grabbed Sophia's wrist and began pulling her toward the exit. Sophia's answer was a sharp, stinging slap across his cheek. The sound cracked through the air, and a dead silence fell over the room. All eyes were fixed on Sophia in pure shock. Everyone was wondering if she had lost her mind to dare something like that. Lucas slowly worked his jaw, the look in his eyes so dark that it promised retribution. When Sophia resisted, Lucas didn't hesitate. He swept her up onto his shoulder and carried her out of the room. The sight made Emily's heart clench. She'd never seen Lucas be so patient with anyone. Before she knew it, her hand was on his arm. "Lucas..." He didn't turn his head, but some of the tension left his expression. "I'm taking her home," he said firmly. "The driver will return for you when you're ready." Emily could only watch as Lucas walked away with Sophia. She had no right to stop him, but it stung—this was the first time he'd ever left her for another woman, especially one who meant nothing. Her hands tightened at her sides. 'I gave you a chance to walk away quietly, Sophia. You brought this on yourself,' she thought. Sophia's protests echoed down the hallway as she struggled against Lucas's hold. Unsure what was happening between the couple, Annabelle turned away, pretending she hadn't noticed them. Lucas carried Sophia into the elevator and stepped out briskly when it reached the basement level. As the car door opened, Lucas tossed Sophia into the back seat. Struggling upright, she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea from the prolonged time she'd spent upside down. She opened her mouth to curse, but the words died on her lips as the tinted window of a nearby Maybach began to descend. In the shadowy interior, the man's profile was sharp and forbidding. His lips were set in a firm line, and he sat with the imposing stillness of an iceberg, his presence pushing others away. Sensing her gaze, he glanced over, and their eyes locked. Without a word, Sophia averted her gaze and hid her face behind a veil of tangled hair. Chapter 7 Not Her Home Anymore Lucas's black Bentley pulled out of the underground parking garage, but Sophia was still lost in thought about those intense eyes. There was something familiar about them, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen them before. Lucas's voice broke the silence. "Did you follow me here? What are you so concerned about?" "What?" Sophia asked, snapping back to reality. Keeping his eyes on the road, Lucas tried to explain. "You know how my friends are—they never think before they speak. Don't take their words seriously. There's nothing going on between Emily and me." 'If there's really nothing between them, why was he being so protective? He only rushed me out because he was worried I might cause a scene and embarrass Emily,' Sophia thought. "Sure," Sophia said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You and Emily are completely innocent." "I'm trying to explain myself here," Lucas said, his patience wearing thin. "Do you have to be so sarcastic?" Her ungrateful attitude was beginning to irritate him. He remembered how she used to soften at the slightest reassurance. Now, it seemed her patience had worn thin. "Understood," Sophia said, her tone flat. "Is that all?" "I've been clear from the beginning—you are my wife, and that won't change. But if you want this marriage to work, you need to drop your little tricks. I won't play these games." Sophia stayed quiet, struck by his assumption that her mention of divorce was merely a plea for attention. Her silence tightened the air between them. "Don't become someone I resent, Sophia," he said with a frown, his voice low. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips as she turned toward the window, shutting him out completely. Sensing he had pushed too far, Lucas eased his tone. "I had your things moved back to our room. If you want to stay with me, just say so. There's no need for all this." Sophia was left speechless. ***** As the car came to a stop in the courtyard of Nightfall Estate, Sophia stepped out. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the cherry blossom grove in the garden. The sight sent a sharp pang through her chest. She forced her gaze away and continued into the villa. Inside, the decor had been completely redone. The new style, with its unmistakable resemblance to the Evans residence, clearly revealed who had overseen the renovations. She moved through rooms that felt entirely alien to her now, but she kept her thoughts to herself since this was no longer her home. Wendy looked surprised when she saw Sophia. "Mrs. Westwood, you've returned. Have you had your supper?" Sinking into the plush pink sofa, Sophia answered quietly, "Yes, thank you." Wendy offered a tight smile before retreating to her quarters to make a hurried phone call to Helen, reporting the unexpected arrival. Helen had never approved of Sophia, whom she saw as a plain nobody not good enough for her son. The infertility diagnosis hardened Helen's resolve to rush the divorce so Lucas could marry someone worthy of giving her grandchildren. The news of Sophia's sudden return after her dramatic departure kept Helen tossing and turning all night. Lucas had been certain Sophia would confront him about the complete makeover of their home. He stood ready to smooth things over, but she walked through the rooms without comment, her silence leaving him more unsettled than any argument would have. "If the decor isn't to your taste..." Lucas moved to sit beside her, his arms beginning to encircle her. Sophia reached for a throw pillow, tucking it between them as she shifted away from his embrace. The gentle rejection stung, though Lucas reassured himself that this was the same woman who had always adored him. "It's true. I prefer my original choices," she said calmly. "Can you have everything returned to how it was?" The warm, elegant furnishings had vanished, replaced by the overwhelming pinks that Emily favored—a transformation that had turned their home into something resembling a kitschy boutique hotel. Lucas shifted uncomfortably. "Let's not make a big deal out of it. You'll get used to the way things are around here." A faint, knowing smile curved on Sophia's lips as she met his gaze. That smile never failed to get under his skin. "Try to see it from her perspective, Sophia," he said, his voice tightening. "After everything she's been through these past three years, all Emily wants is to feel like she belongs." A wave of exhaustion washed over her. It was like talking to a brick wall. "I know," she said flatly. "You have your entire family backing you up," Lucas shot back, his patience clearly wearing thin. "But Emily? She has nobody else. Is it really so hard for you to be a little more compassionate?" "Funny," Sophia replied, her tone icy. "I was under the impression my adoptive parents were still very much alive." Besides, the Evans family had never once ceased to think about Emily throughout those three years. They made trip after trip to Felarica to celebrate Emily's birthdays and attend her parties. They even missed Sophia's wedding to Lucas because of her. A single social media post from Emily, complaining of her loneliness in Felarica, was all it took for them to drop everything and fly to her side. "Now that you've made it out of that dead-end town, you should be the last person to let Emily sink into it," he shot back. As Sophia looked at him, the last glimmer of hope in her eyes vanished. She knew well enough to stop mentioning divorce. To Lucas, it was just another act—proof that she was the same desperate woman the world thought her to be. If she couldn't get through to Lucas, she was going to find another path. Now, with her infertility diagnosis, she knew Helen would be far more impatient to act on this news. Sophia retreated to the master bedroom. Her possessions had claimed their space, with her clothes occupying half of the vast closet. A sense of normalcy had finally settled between her and Lucas, the kind that belongs to a husband and wife. But it was a fragile peace, already beginning to fray. Lucas was still in the living room when Emily returned. The air around her carried the sharp tang of liquor. Her face was deeply flushed, and she swayed slightly as she walked. He was at her side in an instant, his hand gently steadying her. "You've had far too much to drink," he murmured, his brow furrowed with worry. "This isn't good for you. I don't want to see you like this again." Emily turned into him, her arms finding their way around his neck. "I couldn't help it," she whispered, her voice thick with drink and emotion. "It's the only thing that dulls the ache." Sensing her legs might give way, he simply gathered her into his arms. "Wendy," he said to the housekeeper who had appeared, heading for the stairs. "Would you bring up some electrolyte water for Emily?" "Understood," Wendy replied. Playing the part of the drunken mess, Emily clung to Lucas and sobbed into his chest. "I've always regretted it," she cried. "Letting my pride push you away was the biggest mistake of my life." A long-buried tenderness tugged at Lucas's heart. "Let's try again, Lucas. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice," she whispered, tilting her face up to his. Just as their lips were about to meet, the master bedroom door swung open, and the sudden movement startled the couple in the hallway. Sophia stood in the doorway in her pajamas, watching them with a completely expressionless face. Lucas instantly snapped back to reality, and a rare look of panic flashed across his handsome face. "Sophie, Emily is drunk," he said quickly. "I'm just taking her back to her room." Still draped around him, Emily met Sophia's eyes over Lucas's shoulder. The tears were gone, replaced by a cool, triumphant smirk that held no trace of intoxication. Sophia's mouth curved into a humorless smile as she replied, "Yes, and you're drunk too." Without another word, she stepped back and slammed the door, the turn of the lock echoing decisively behind her. The idea of sleeping next to Lucas made her blood boil. She honestly didn't trust herself to lie beside him all night without her rage getting the better of her. Chapter 8 Divorce Settlement The next morning, as Sophia left her room, the guest room door across the hall opened at the exact same time. Lucas was stepping out, finishing with his tie. He glanced up and went completely still, finding Sophia already watching him from their bedroom doorway. Surprise flashed across his face, and he started with an explanation. "She was a mess last night," he said, his voice low. "I couldn't just leave her." Sophia's eyes dropped to the bright red smudge on his collar. Her eyes were filled with silent scorn as she thought about how filthy it was. She said with icy calm, "Relax, I know perfectly well that nothing would ever happen between you two, even when you don't have a stitch of clothing on." Her words cut off whatever excuse Lucas was about to offer. Anger darkened his features. "Think what you want," he snapped. "My feelings for her are purely brotherly." Sophia's eyes fell to the lipstick stain on his collar again. "So, how does it feel to be so close to your 'sister'?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Following her line of sight, Lucas saw the evidence, and a shadow of guilt crossed his face. "It was an accident," he insisted, his voice tight. "Don't make it sound so sordid." "So filthy," she murmured, shaking her head. As he drew a sharp breath to retaliate, she added with a cold smile, "I mean your shirt." He stared at her, his expression turning to stone. She merely offered a careless shrug and walked away, leaving him fuming in the hallway. Downstairs, Sophia was halfway through her breakfast when her phone vibrated on the table. A quick glance at the screen confirmed it was Helen calling. Just then, Wendy appeared with two additional breakfast plates. Sophia swiped to answer the call, a deliberate smile directed at Wendy. "You're calling so early, Mrs. Westwood." The pointed smile made Wendy's blood run cold, and at the mention of Mrs. Westwood, she was reminded of betraying Sophia by reporting to Helen last night. Stricken with guilt, she almost fumbled the tray. She dropped the plates onto the table and hastily retreated to the safety of the kitchen. A faint, cold smile touched Sophia's lips as Helen's venomous voice filled her ear. "Utterly devoid of manners," Helen sneered. "What else can you expect from someone with such a common background?" Sophia's eyes turned to ice. "Trace any lineage back three generations, Mrs. Westwood, and you'll find humble roots. It's distasteful to scorn your own origins." Helen found herself at a loss for words. Though Lucas's parents both had city roots, his grandparents' generation had all struggled in a backwater. Helen's parents had even lived in a cowshed. So in that regard, Helen was no better than Sophia. "That sharp tongue of yours is exactly why people can't stand you," Helen shot back. Sophia rolled her eyes in contempt. Biting back her anger, Helen forced a calmer tone. "We need to meet. There's a document for you to sign." "What kind of document?" "It'll be clear when you get here." Letting the matter drop, Sophia hung up. As she did, she saw Lucas descending the staircase. He had showered and changed, his hair perfectly styled like a model from the pages of a magazine. She had to admit, he was pleasing to look at. 'With those looks, he certainly has the assets for a career as a gigolo,' Sophia thought wryly. A smug feeling warmed Lucas as her eyes stayed on him. He drew out the chair next to hers and sat down. "Paliston Fashion Week is just around the corner," he offered. "It'll be a good chance for us to get away." In three years of marriage, it was the first time he had ever proposed such a thing. Sophia acknowledged him with a quiet hum, but she felt no spark of happiness or expectation. She saw the offer for what it was—a peace offering, born of the guilt he carried after his betrayal. Her ride showed up shortly after breakfast. Picking up her bag, Sophia walked out the door.
Chapter 1 His First Love Returned Sophia Evans could feel her world beginning to crack the moment she heard the news—the woman her husband, Lucas Westwood, had never gotten over was back. When Sophia arrived at the hotel's VIP suite with a gift, she found Lucas's first love—Emily Evans—being humiliated by his childhood friends. "Lick the wine off my shoe, Emily. I'll give you thirty thousand dollars," one of them said. Emily was forced to kneel on the floor, tears in her defiant eyes as she stared shamefully at Lucas. Lucas watched with a dark expression, saying nothing as he held his temper in check. Sophia halted mid-step, struck by the painful familiarity of the scene. Three years ago, when she had first been welcomed into the Evans family, these same privileged young men had tormented her in exactly the same way to gain Emily's favor. But back then, Lucas hadn't worn this expression of utter heartbreak. "There you are," Lucas said as soon as he spotted Sophia, his arm sliding around her waist in a show of intimacy. Only Sophia could feel the desperate pressure of his grip—a silent testament to the pain he was trying to conceal. Lucas's childhood friends had reserved the entire venue for his birthday celebration. But Sophia had never expected Emily to show up here. Everyone knew Lucas had married Sophia just to spite Emily. Three years ago, Emily's identity as a fake heiress was exposed. She broke up with Lucas then and there and left the Evans family behind. Lucas pursued her to the airport, boarded her departing flight, and forced the plane that had already taken off to turn back. Right there on that plane, he proposed to Emily. To his complete surprise, Emily refused without hesitation, declaring that the arranged marriage should be honored by the Evans family's true heiress. Humiliated and acting out of spite, Lucas married Sophia instead. For three years, Sophia had lived as Emily's stand-in. Everyone whispered that if Emily ever returned, Lucas would discard Sophia without a second thought. Sophia had once believed that too, but something had shifted in these past six months—Lucas seemed to be genuinely falling for her. He made grand declarations of love in the press, showered her with luxury homes and cars, and even replaced the cherry tree he'd planted for Emily with a garden full of red roses. In their most tender moments, he'd whisper against her ear, "Let's have a baby, Sophie. I hope they have your smile." Sophia's hand drifted absently to her stomach as she clutched the gift box a little tighter. Inside was a positive pregnancy test—meant to be Lucas's birthday surprise. But now, the timing of the gift felt all wrong. "You still think you're the Evans family princess, Emily? Lucas only has eyes for Sophia now. Why not be with me? A pretty thing like you deserves to be treated right," one of Lucas's friends, Ryan Shaw, sneered. He dragged Emily onto his lap, his hands already roaming over her. "Get your hands off me!" Emily cried, fighting against Ryan's grip as humiliation burned through her. Her resistance only fueled Ryan's excitement. In one swift motion, he shoved her down onto the couch, his powerful body trapping hers. Horrified that Ryan would assault Emily right in front of Lucas, Sophia jumped up to stop him, only to be shoved aside as Lucas already surged into action. As she stumbled, her hands instinctively reached for Lucas's arm, but he brutally shook her off. She hit the floor hard, a jolt of sharp pain shooting from her tailbone straight to her womb. Through the pain-induced haze, she saw Lucas grab Ryan by the collar, drag him off Emily, and pummel his face with brutal, unforgiving fists. "You've overstepped, Ryan. Emily is mine. Even if I discard her, she'll never be yours to touch," Lucas snapped. His words hung in the air, and the entire room fell silent as if frozen in time. Sophia stared at Lucas in disbelief, wondering where she stood in his life now that he had openly claimed Emily as his woman. All eyes in the room were drawn to the scene. Some watched with malicious delight, while others were simply captivated by the unfolding drama. Doubled over in pain, Sophia felt a warm wetness spreading beneath her. Her face paled as a cold dread gripped her heart. "Honey, my stomach hurts," she turned to Lucas instinctively. "Please, take me to the hospital." Without even glancing her way, Lucas removed his jacket and gently placed it around Emily's shoulders. Nestling into his embrace, Emily whispered, her voice trembling, "Lucas, I'm scared. Please take me away from here." "Don't worry," he murmured, holding her close. "I won't let anyone hurt you." Sweeping Emily into his arms, Lucas carried her out of the room, completely ignoring Sophia's pain-racked form shuddering on the floor. Perched comfortably on his shoulder, Emily gazed down at Sophia's crumpled form on the floor, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. The spectators murmured among themselves, still savoring the drama they'd just witnessed. "Emily's definitely the one for Lucas. He hasn't taken his eyes off her all night." "The way Lucas looks at her... I thought it was hatred, but it's clearly something else entirely." "Who could resist someone like her? I certainly wouldn't be able to stay angry." "Poor Sophia. She was just a side character in their love story." At the mention of Sophia's name, the crowd remembered her presence simultaneously, their attention shifting to where she sat. Sophia was in terrible pain and covered in a cold sweat until someone finally noticed her condition and quickly helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?" the guy asked. She gripped his arm tightly as the room spun around her. "Please take me to the hospital. My stomach hurts terribly," she pleaded. Then everything went dark as she fainted. Through the haze of semi-consciousness, distant screams about blood echoed in her ears. When Sophia regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital room. The sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the air as she lay alone in the quiet ward. A nurse tending to her bandages noticed her awakening. "You're awake," she said softly. Sophia's voice came out weak and fearful. "My baby... Is my baby alright?" "Your baby is fine," the nurse reassured her. "But you'll need to take special care. These first few months are particularly delicate in your condition." Relief washed over Sophia as grateful tears fell. "Thank you," she whispered, overwhelmed that her child was safe. Through the emotional turmoil, Sophia's first thought was to share the news with Lucas immediately. Wiping her tears, she reached for her phone and dialed his number. The phone rang several times before Lucas finally picked up. His voice was edged with impatience as he answered, "Not coming home tonight. Don't wait—" "Lucas, my hair's caught in this zipper," Emily's voice interrupted, floating through the line. "Could you give me a hand?" Sophia's knuckles went white around her phone. "Be right there," he said. The call ended before Sophia could form a response. Overnight, things between her and Lucas had reverted to how they were six months ago. Back then, he'd been all cold shoulders and sharp tones. Even in their most intimate moments, he treated her like just another need to be met. To him, she might as well have been a stranger—or worse, just a convenient body. So when he finally let his guard down, she'd been so grateful for the warmth that she fell harder than she ever meant to. She thought her years of longing had finally paid off. But reality slapped her senseless when Lucas chose Emily's safety over their own child's life. After being discharged from the hospital, Sophia caught a taxi home. Midway through the ride, her phone buzzed with a Twitter alert. It was a tweet from Emily: [You told me you'd hold my hand and never let go—not for the rest of our lives.] The attached photo showed Emily dressed like a princess, complete with a tiny crown, her hand locked tightly with a larger, elegant hand. Around the wrist was a bracelet made of prayer beads—the very one Sophia had prayed for in a church last year, when Lucas was burning up with fever. That day, he squeezed her hand and whispered a promise that he would never leave her side. Chapter 2 Ask Him For A Divorce The taxi stopped outside the Nightfall Estate, where Sophia paid the fare and got out of the vehicle. She was just heading inside when a truck carrying young cherry trees rumbled up the drive and stopped near the garden. Workers carefully unloaded the cherry trees and settled them into the prepared holes. Where a vibrant sea of red roses had bloomed just yesterday, now only upturned earth remained, with the plants piled carelessly to the side. A dull ache spread through Sophia's chest as she gazed at the rose petals strewn like crimson tears across the soil. The familiar purr of a luxury car engine approached from behind. Turning around, Sophia saw Lucas step out of the car. He stood tall and straight, radiating a natural air of calm elegance. "Honey..." Sophia began, but the words died on her lips as he leaned back into the car. With gentle care, he helped a woman step out—it was Emily, who looked radiant in an exquisite designer ensemble that made her complexion glow. Only when Emily was steady did Lucas's gaze finally meet Sophia's, those usually warm eyes now regarding her with detached indifference. "Did you need something?" he asked, his tone flat. The cold unfamiliarity in his look struck Sophia's heart like a physical blow. "Why are you tearing out the roses when they were growing so well?" she asked, desperate for his explanation. Those roses had been his special way of confessing his feelings to her. Lucas barely glanced at the destroyed garden. "Emily's not feeling well. She'll be staying with us for a bit." "What does that have to do with the roses?" she pressed. "She's allergic to the pollen," he said curtly, already turning to guide Emily inside. Sophia stood rooted to the spot, her heart breaking. Emily's delicate voice carried through the air. "Lucas, Sophia seems upset. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have complained about the roses." "She doesn't matter to me," Lucas reassured her. "But I worry she'll resent me. Really, I can manage with allergy medication," Emily offered, her voice dripping with false concern. "Medication always has side effects. Don't suggest things that worry me," he replied. Sophia stood motionless as she watched their figures grow smaller in the distance. A silent tear traced its way down her cheek while overwhelming sorrow washed over her. 'I don't matter to him... Yeah, right,' Sophia murmured with bitter irony, the truth of the words settling like a weight in her heart. He hadn't even asked about her absence last night, and now he had ordered her favorite roses to be torn out. The message was clear—she meant less to him than the slightest thought of Emily. For three years, she had devoted herself to him, offering unwavering love and comfort through difficult times. She had believed her constant warmth could thaw even the coldest heart, but Emily's reappearance had erased everything in an instant. She wondered what their intimacy these past six months had truly meant, and what role she had actually played in his life. A sudden twinge in her lower abdomen made her catch her breath. Pale and unsteady, she turned toward the villa. As Sophia stepped into the living room, she saw Emily nestled against Lucas on the sofa, watching with affectionate amusement as he peeled an orange for her. Lucas gently picked away every bit of white pith from the orange segments before arranging them on a plate for Emily. "For you," he said with a soft smile. "Enjoy, my little foodie." As Emily took the plate, she noticed Sophia entering the room. A triumphant smile graced her lips as she called out, "Sophia, would you like some? Lucas peeled these himself. Something you've never experienced, I'm sure." Sophia's gaze fell upon the perfectly prepared orange segments, and she felt a sudden sting behind her eyes. The painful truth was that in all their time together, Lucas had never once peeled an orange for her. She had always been the one serving him. The realization struck her with perfect clarity—Lucas knew well how to be thoughtful, but he simply reserved his kindness for Emily. Sophia felt her heart breaking into pieces as she finally understood how painful comparison could be. "She's perfectly capable of peeling her own fruit," Lucas said dismissively, barely glancing at Sophia. Then he noticed her pale complexion and added, "Are you alright? You look terribly pale." Sophia's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she debated telling Lucas her secret pregnancy. A fragile hope whispered within her—that this truth might finally soften his heart toward her. "I..." Her voice faltered, the words dying on her lips. "If you're ill, see a doctor. This pathetic act is getting tiresome," Lucas said, impatience flashing across his handsome features. He was annoyed by her wounded expression, which seemed to suggest she was the victim of some terrible injustice. Sophia swallowed her unspoken words, her gaze lingering on the man who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. "I'm fine," she murmured. "I'll just go to my room." As she turned toward the staircase, Lucas felt a surge of irritation. 'I must've been too lenient with her, and now she dared to show me attitude,' he thought, fuming. Sophia had only climbed a few steps when the housekeeper, Wendy, appeared descending the stairs with servants carrying boxes. The items looked familiar, but it was the sight of her stuffed doll in Wendy's arms that made Sophia realize everything they carried was hers. In a swift motion, she stepped forward and snatched the doll. Her voice turned icy as she asked, "Wendy, care to explain this?" "Mr. Westwood's orders," Wendy said quietly. "You're to move to the storage room downstairs." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, leaving her mind reeling. She turned to Lucas, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious." They'd already maintained separate bedrooms, but she never imagined that she'd be banished to a storage room instead of even being offered the guest suite after Emily's return. For a fleeting moment under her gaze, Lucas felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly hardened into resolve. "Emily needs the sunroom for her health," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your room gets the best light. It's better for her recovery." The absurdity of it all drew a bitter laugh from Sophia's lips. She thought his previous cruelty—shoving her while pregnant and replacing her roses with Emily's cherry trees—had been the worst it could get. But this new humiliation surpassed even that. All Lucas had done since Emily's return yesterday was talk about her. In just one day, she had turned Sophia's whole life upside down. Sophia expected to feel rage, but instead found only a hollow emptiness settling in her chest. 'Look at him, Sophia,' Sophia thought bitterly. 'This is the man you gave your heart and soul to. Was any of it worth it?' "If you're so worried about her comfort, why not just move her into your room? The master suite gets the best light anyway," Sophia shot back. Lucas responded sharply, "Sophia, you need to watch your tone." Emily's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I know you don't want me here, Sophia. I'll go. Please don't fight with Lucas over me." Sophia saw right through Emily's act. A humorless laugh escaped her as she spat, "You're not going anywhere. I am." Tightening her grip on the stuffed doll, she turned and headed for the door. "Don't you dare, Sophia." Lucas rose to his feet, his voice cutting through the room. "Walk out that door now, and don't expect to ever come back." Sophia's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "I'll make sure you receive the divorce papers," she said, her voice cold and steady. "See that you sign them." "You're asking me for a divorce?" Lucas's voice was low, thick with barely restrained fury. He added, his tone edged with contempt, "Have you forgotten who gave you this life, Sophia? The luxury, the status—all of it came from me. Without my name, you're just that wide-eyed girl fresh off that forgotten little town. You don't get to leave." Chapter 3 The Replaced Medical Result Sophia didn't need to look back to know the condescending smirk that was surely on Lucas's face. She knew he had always despised her. His proposal three years ago had been motivated only by a desire to fulfill the marriage agreement between their families and to exact revenge on Emily. She had been naive enough to believe his empty promises, offering him her genuine love when he saw her as nothing more than a pawn. To him, she would always be a leech, clinging to his wealth and name for survival. But now, she had reached her limit, and she no longer wanted him in her life. Sophia walked out without a backward glance. As she stepped through the gateway, the sound of shattering porcelain echoed behind her, but she no longer cared. Lucas stood amid the shattered remains, fingers pressed to his temples. His face was a mask of simmering anger. He dismissed the mention of divorce as just another one of her calculated moves, a transparent attempt to get his attention by pulling away. Emily watched him hesitantly. "Maybe I shouldn't be staying here, Lucas. Sophia seemed really upset." "It's nothing," Lucas replied evenly. Seeing how the mention of divorce had affected him, she suggested softly, "You could go after her. Women usually respond well to a little reassurance." "I don't have time for that," Lucas said, turning toward the staircase. With a business trip looming, his mind was elsewhere. 'Let her make a scene if she wants to,' he thought. 'She'll cool off and come crawling back. She always does.' ***** Sophia's home was a beautiful 3,200-square-foot apartment with an open-concept layout and sleek modern decor—all paid for with her own earnings. In her study, she printed the divorce papers and a letter resigning from her position. With a steady hand, she signed both, and then summoned a courier to deliver them directly to the Westwood Group. When she married Lucas three years ago, Sophia had joined his company, hoping to build a genuine connection with him. She started at the very bottom as an assistant and gradually earned her way up to department manager. She had wanted nothing more than to be close to him—in their home and at work. But in the end, her efforts were met with cold indifference. Gazing downward, Sophia softly cradled her stomach. "It's just us now, little one," she whispered. The courier arrived at Westwood headquarters while Lucas was away. His chief executive assistant, Kevin Chapman, received the delivery and signed. The moment Kevin saw the contents, he reached for the phone, dialing Lucas's number in haste. "Mr. Westwood, your wife has sent divorce documents." "Burn it all." On the other side of the ocean, Lucas loosened his tie as an unexpected wave of irritation came over him. "But Mrs. Westwood has even submitted her resignation letter..." Kevin replied, his tone hesitant. "She can't survive without this family." The blue flame from Lucas's lighter highlighted the grim set of his features. "Let her be. She'll come crawling back once reality sets in." Meanwhile, Sophia remained completely unaware of his words. Her morning had begun with a call from her mother-in-law, Helen Westwood. "Where are you? Return at once," Helen commanded in her typically imperious manner, leaving no room for discussion. Complying, Sophia drove back to the estate. No sooner had she stepped inside than a velvet box came hurling toward her head, which she narrowly avoided by stepping aside. Helen's shrill voice pierced the air. "How dare you avoid that? You've got some nerve." Sophia's gaze fell upon the velvet box at her feet, and suddenly, she understood why it seemed familiar. She remembered purchasing that exact box to store her pregnancy test results. On Lucas's birthday, she had intended to present it to him as a gift, but he had accidentally pushed her before she could give it to him, resulting in her hospitalization. Her heart leaped as she turned to face Helen's livid expression. 'Could she know about the pregnancy? But something about her reaction seems strange,' she wondered. For three years, Helen had made no secret of her disapproval of Sophia, someone raised in a small town. Yet every time Sophia visited the Westwood residence with Lucas, Helen would consistently nag Sophia about starting a family soon. If Helen knew Sophia was pregnant, she was supposed to be absolutely delighted instead of reacting like this. Helen clutched a medical report, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared down Sophia. "For three years, I've watched your marriage to Lucas, wondering why you never conceived. Now I understand—he married a barren woman. "If you hadn't left this at the hotel and Lucas's friend hadn't been kind enough to deliver it, I'd still be in the dark about your condition." Heart pounding with shock, Sophia ignored Helen's murderous gaze and snatched the document from her hand. The clinical report lay cold and pale in the morning light. There was her name, clearly printed, alongside the devastating diagnosis: "permanent infertility." 'Permanent infertility? But that's impossible. I'm pregnant. Someone must have switched my test results. But who would do such a thing?' Sophia wondered. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "This isn't my..." Emily, who had remained silent until now, suddenly interrupted, "Sophia, the Westwood lineage has been passed down through a single heir for ten generations. Are you trying to ensure Lucas dies without an heir? To extinguish the family line completely?" "How utterly heartless!" Helen exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Sophia as her anger reached its peak. "We've welcomed you with open arms since you married into this family. Yet you've been hiding this from us? To think you'd let our family line die out—it's truly despicable!" she added. Sophia didn't even attempt to explain herself. If they wanted to believe she was barren, so be it—it would only simplify the divorce proceedings. "I only received the results two days ago. I hadn't found the right moment to share the news," Sophia replied, her voice calm. "This wasn't about finding the right moment. You did this intentionally," Helen retorted, her face contorted with rage. "And you planned to give this to Lucas as a gift? What kind of twisted mind would conceive such a thing?" Sophia maintained her silence. Helen took a measured breath, forcing her anger down. "If you can't conceive naturally, I won't hold it against you. I've spoken with Emily, and she's agreed to donate her eggs so you and Lucas can pursue in vitro fertilization." Sophia stared in disbelief at the unexpected turn. "Could you repeat that?" She believed she had misheard because the suggestion was both preposterous and deeply offensive. "If you can't conceive, that's your problem. Emily is being extraordinarily generous by offering her eggs. The least you could do is show some appreciation instead of this ingratitude," Helen sneered. A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. "Perhaps you'd like to accept this generous offer yourself?" "How dare you speak to me like that!" Helen's eyes flashed with fury. "Sophia, you shouldn't speak to Mrs. Westwood that way. She was suggesting that for your sake," Emily said in a honeyed tone, reaching for the glass. As she moved, she made certain to display the prayer beads circling her delicate wrist. Sophia's breath caught—she would recognize the bracelet anywhere. That was the very ones she had sacrificed so much to obtain while praying for Lucas's recovery. It felt like a personal insult, seeing the bracelet that symbolized her love for Lucas now clasped around Emily's wrist. "For my sake?" Sophia repeated, the words tasting bitter as she caught the sly glint of satisfaction in Emily's eyes. It sent a sharp ache through her. She knew this game all too well. Emily had a gift for twisting people's vulnerabilities to her advantage, a lesson Sophia had learned the hard way three years ago. "I'm infertile. What possible use could I have for your eggs?" Sophia asked, her voice cold. "Do you really think I need a constant reminder of what I can't have?" Emily's smile vanished. For Helen's benefit, she bit her lip, her eyes instantly welling with feigned hurt. "Mrs. Westwood," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "I was only trying to help Sophia." Helen immediately comforted Emily by patting her hand. She then shot Sophia a disapproving look. "How can you be so selfish, Sophia? Are you really determined to let the Westwood family line die out?" Sophia gestured dismissively toward Emily. "Well, if she's so fertile, let her handle the baby-making." The thought of Emily getting to be a mother the easy way turned Sophia's stomach. Chapter 4 Take Back Her Things The color drained from both Helen's and Emily's faces. Helen stepped forward, jabbing a finger toward Sophia. "You think you're better than us? Then you give the Westwood family an heir. Don't blame anyone else for your own useless womb." Sophia bit back the sharp retort on her tongue. She was done with this family, done with Lucas. Arguing now would only prolong the inevitable. "Mrs. Westwood," she began, "I've decided—" Lucas's familiar, deep voice cut through the tension from the doorway. "Decided what?" Sophia turned to see Lucas standing there, his clothes rumpled from travel. His assistant, Kevin, hovered behind him with a suitcase in hand. The air in the room was thick with tension, so Kevin knew better than to stay. He simply left the suitcase by the door and made a quick exit. Loosening his tie, Lucas turned to Helen. "Mom, what brings you here?" "If I hadn't come, you'd have let our family name die out," Helen shot back. She then snatched the medical report from Sophia and flung it at Lucas's chest. "See for yourself," she said coldly, and with that, she swept out of the room. Lucas looked down at the document in his hands, and the words "permanent infertility" caused a faint twitch in his brow. His eyes, when they finally lifted to meet Sophia's, were devoid of warmth. "You'll go back to the hospital tomorrow for a full work-up. I will not have a wife who can't give me an heir." A hollow ache spread through Sophia's chest. Any foolish hope she'd been clinging to finally faded. Lucas had never defended her in three years of his mother's constant belittlement. And now, the ease with which he believed this lie revealed the chilling truth of his character. "I have the divorce papers right here," Sophia said, pulling the documents from her bag. She extended them toward him, her voice steady. "Just sign them, and you'll never have to see me again." Lucas didn't even look at the papers. In one swift motion, his hand closed around her throat, pulling her close. He leaned in until his face was mere inches from hers, and she could feel his warm breath and smell the familiar scent of his cologne. There was a time when this closeness would have made her heart flutter. Now, it only made her skin crawl. It was amazing how easy it was to walk away when all the love had drained away. "Sophia, have I been too soft with you?" Lucas's voice was thick with contempt. "Where exactly do you think you'll go without my protection?" She held his gaze without flinching. "That's really none of your concern anymore." "Still got that sharp tongue," he sneered. He released her with a dismissive shove, as if her defiance meant nothing. "Go make me dinner. I'm hungry." A wave of pain shot through Sophia's lower abdomen as she sank into the sofa, her skin turning clammy with an instant, cold sweat. Across the room, Emily slid her arm through Lucas's with practiced ease. "Don't let Sophia bother you," she murmured. "Her little scene was just a cry for your attention." Lucas pulled his tie free, his stern expression melting away as he focused on Emily. "How are you holding up?" he asked, his tone gentler. "I'm fine," she sighed, putting on a pitiful face. "It's just that the medicine is so awfully bitter." "It's bitter because it's strong. You need to keep taking it," he reminded her. "I picked up those candies you like. They're in my suitcase. Go get them yourself." "I know you always look out for me," Emily said, stretching up to press a light kiss to Lucas's cheek. "Consider that your reward." A look of quiet satisfaction crossed his features at the gesture. "I'm going up to shower," he said. "Go ahead," Emily said sweetly, fluttering a wave at him. She waited until Lucas's footsteps faded up the staircase before turning to the suitcase. They carried on as if Sophia weren't standing right there in the same room. Humming cheerfully, Emily unzipped the luggage. Alongside Lucas's neatly folded clothes sat a jar of shimmering candies and an elegant red velvet box that clearly held something valuable. Her eyes skipped over the candy, going straight to the velvet box. When she lifted the lid, a pink diamond necklace lay gleaming, its facets scattering rainbows in the light. "Oh, it's exquisite. I love it," she whispered, her eyes widening. "So the candy was just a decoy. This necklace is what he really wanted me to find." Draping the necklace against her collarbone, Emily turned to face Sophia, who had risen from the sofa. "Well, Sophia? Don't you think it suits me perfectly?" The pink diamond necklace around Emily's neck struck Sophia as oddly familiar. It came to her a moment later—she had coveted it last month while flipping through a magazine. Lucas had seen her fascination and promised to get it for her. The catch was its exclusivity—a single piece, sourced from Melaria, the country where Lucas had been attending to business. "That was for me," Sophia said, her voice calm. The man was disposable, but her possessions were not. She would reclaim what was rightfully hers. With a swift motion, Emily clasped the necklace. "Finders keepers," she said with a mocking grin. Sophia approached for a closer look. Though the necklace was more exquisite than its photograph, any desire for it had vanished. A wary look crossed Emily's face. "What is this about?" "To take what belongs to me, of course," Sophia said, stepping close and extending her hand. "It's time you returned it." Emily's hands instinctively flew to the diamond necklace at her throat. "Lucas will never stand for this, Sophia. You know what I mean to him." Sophia almost laughed. She knew well that Emily held a special place in Lucas's heart. But that was irrelevant. She was only claiming what was hers. "Give the bracelet back to me," Sophia said coldly. It was a token earned through true devotion, and she wouldn't let its significance be tarnished. Realizing Sophia only wanted the simple bracelet, Emily smiled condescendingly. 'Some shortsighted people have no taste,' she thought. Emily twisted the bracelet around her wrist. "I heard you went to Grace Abbey to beg for this good-luck charm," she said. "You are so hung up on him, aren't you?" The hypocrisy of her words was almost laughable. "Give it back," Sophia said, her voice like ice. Emily's eyes flickered to a point behind Sophia, and a sly smile touched her lips. She lowered her voice. "If you want it so badly, why don't you come and take it?" Sophia didn't stop to think. She grabbed Emily's wrist and tugged the bracelet free. The moment it was off, Emily's demeanor shifted completely. "Sophia, what are you doing?" she cried out, her voice suddenly loud and panicked. "Lucas gave this to me." Before Sophia could even turn around, a powerful hand seized her by the collar and hauled her backwards. The fabric dug sharply into her throat, stealing her breath. Stumbling to regain her footing, Sophia looked up to see Lucas. He was already cradling Emily. "Emily, are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern. Emily buried her face in his chest. "I'm fine," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Please, don't be angry with Sophia. She didn't mean it." Lucas's jaw tightened, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. He took a deep breath and fixed Sophia with an icy stare. "Apologize to Emily." Chapter 5 She Wants A Clean Break A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. She had fooled herself into thinking she was numb to Lucas's coldness. But his command still sent a fresh, sharp pain through her chest. She knew there was no point arguing with a man who had already chosen the other woman's side. "I won't apologize," Sophia said, her fist closing tightly around the bracelet. "What for?" Emily looked up at Lucas with well-practiced vulnerability. "I'm causing trouble here, Lucas. I should go." Lucas caught her wrist before she could take a second step. "You're staying right here." His attention snapped back to Sophia, his expression darkening. "Now, Sophia, apologize to Emily." The room blurred as tears filled Sophia's eyes, twisting his familiar face into a stranger's. She lifted the simple bracelet between them. "This is my stuff in the first place. Since when is taking back what was stolen a crime?" "Your stuff? Since when do you have anything of your own?" Lucas's lips curled in a sneer. "I've paid for every stitch of clothing on your back." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, forcing a bitter laugh from her lips. He knew perfectly well she earned her own living, yet he took every opportunity to demean her. "This bracelet came from Grace Abbey," she countered, her voice trembling. "You didn't pay a cent for it." Lucas's eyes dropped to the simple beads in her palm. "You think I care about some cheap bracelet?" he scoffed. Hot tears streamed down Sophia's face without warning. Wiping them away, Sophia made a silent vow—this would be the last time he reduced her to this. "Fine!" With one sharp motion, she snapped the bracelet's cord, sending beads skittering across the floor. Lucas watched the scattered beads come to rest, his hand curling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. He knew how much that bracelet meant to her, but the moment Emily wanted it, he didn't hesitate to take it off and hand it over. Lucas's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "Sophia!" "I want a divorce," Sophia said, her voice eerily calm. As she opened her hand, the last bead from the bracelet clattered onto the floor between them. "Let's just end this." The sound was small, but in the tense silence, it was deafening, echoing in Lucas's mind. He let out a short laugh, his gaze locked on her. "You think a threat will work? You should know better than that by now." 'This has to be a ploy,' he thought to himself. 'She loves me too much to go through with it. She has accepted her role as Emily's replacement from the beginning and has never once tried to leave. 'She would never have the strength to walk away from me.' "Go make us something to eat, and we can forget this ever happened." Lucas was certain he had thrown Sophia a lifeline. He waited, fully expecting her to be overcome with relief and scurry off to the kitchen. He'd been away on business, and days of unfamiliar rich food had left his stomach unsettled. What he craved was Sophia's cooking—simple, hearty food that tasted like home. It was a flavor he couldn't find anywhere else. "You can go eat your ass," Sophia shot back. She picked up her bag, her lips twisting into a scornful smile, and walked out without a backward glance. That smile grated on Lucas's nerves more than the insult itself. In his frustration, his eyes fell on the string of prayer beads lying scattered on the floor, and he gave them an impatient kick. 'So that's her game. She wants to challenge me? I'd like to see just how long her resolve will hold,' he thought, fuming. ***** Sophia sped away from Nightfall Estate, her phone buzzing relentlessly on the passenger seat. Lucas's name flashed across the screen again and again until she finally grabbed it and blocked his number for good. When she looked up at the road, she blinked, her vision blurring for a moment. She braced for the familiar sting of tears, but when her fingers touched her skin, it was dry. It was only then that she noticed the soft patter against the windshield. A fine drizzle had begun to fall, and a quiet melancholy settled over her, as gray as the sky. Up ahead, the flickering hazard lights of a sleek black car broke the rhythm of the rain. A man in a soaked suit, looking to be in his forties, stood beside it, waving frantically at passing traffic. Almost without conscious thought, Sophia found herself flipping on her turn signal and pulling over. She rolled down her window as the man rushed over. "Everything okay?" she asked. "It's my boss," the man said, his voice tight with panic. "He's having a heart attack. The ambulance is stuck in a multi-car accident. Please, can you take us to the hospital?" Sophia hesitated. Letting two strange men into her car, especially in this weather, felt dangerous. Every cautionary tale she'd ever heard flashed through her mind. Seeing her hesitation, the man added urgently, "I promise we're not dangerous. My boss is—" But Sophia was already moving, cutting the engine and stepping out into the downpour. "Just get him to my car, now," she called out as she rushed toward their vehicle. As she got closer, she recognized the distinctive emblem of the black Maybach. Working together, they carefully transferred the elderly man from the luxury sedan into Sophia's more modest car. The old man's lips were tinged with blue, and each ragged breath seemed like a struggle, clear signs of his critical condition. Sliding behind the wheel, Sophia started the car and pulled back onto the road, pushing through the veils of rain. In the backseat, the middle-aged man was a whirlwind of activity on his phone, coordinating with a hospital and alerting the family. Beyond the windows, the storm seemed to intensify, as if trying to match the urgency inside the car. After ensuring everything was in place, the man turned to Sophia with heartfelt appreciation. "You're the only one who stopped in this downpour. We can't thank you enough." A warm smile touched Sophia's lips. "Some things are just meant to be." ***** Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital entrance where medical staff stood ready. The team swiftly transferred the elderly man to a stretcher and hurried him inside for emergency care. Just as Sophia was about to drive away, she spotted a lone leather shoe in the backseat—the one the elderly man had been wearing. After a moment's hesitation, she parked properly and carried the shoe to the reception desk, logging it as a lost item. Sophia was just turning to leave when a group emerged from the hospital's main entrance. At the front of the group was a man whose height and posture commanded attention. He turned his sharp gaze on her, and the intensity in his eyes was so commanding that it felt like a physical pressure. 'That frown means trouble,' Sophia thought. She averted her gaze and continued walking, brushing past the group without a second look. It wasn't until she was back in the driver's seat that she felt the chill of her wet clothes clinging to her skin. As she dried her hair with a towel from the backseat, a notification popped up on her phone while she was opening the navigation app. It was a post from Emily: [Nothing says 'forever' like a soft-boiled egg made with love! My ultimate comfort food.] The post featured two photos—one showed a soft-boiled egg with a ketchup heart, and the other captured a tall man's back as he stood at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Sophia couldn't help but compare. When she was with Lucas, he had acted like even pouring her a glass of water was a significant concession. Cooking a meal was utterly out of the question. The fact that he was now cooking for Emily spoke volumes about where his true affections lay. She closed the page and entered her apartment address into the navigation system before driving out of the parking lot. As she watched the heavy rain outside, a single decisive thought crystallized in her mind—this marriage was over. Chapter 6 Return The Trash To The Dumpster That evening, a text came through from Annabelle Quinn, Sophia's best friend since college, insisting they go out to a lounge. The old Sophia would have declined immediately, conditioned to obey Lucas's rule about her not going out. But now that Sophia was divorcing him, his opinions held no weight. ***** The moment Sophia stepped out of the car, she saw Annabelle waiting by the entrance. "Hope you haven't been waiting long," she said as she approached. "Just got here," Annabelle grinned, looping her arm through Sophia's. "So, what's the special occasion? Did you finally get a night off from your sweetheart?" Sophia struggled to find the words, but she couldn't keep it from her best friend. "I'm getting a divorce," she finally said. "Let me guess," Annabelle said, not one to mince words in front of her best friend. "This is about Emily being back, isn't it?" "It's not just that," Sophia admitted, her voice quiet. It just took seeing the difference for herself to truly see how little her three years of effort had meant. Annabelle threw a supportive arm around Sophia's shoulders. "You should have woken up to this a long time ago." For three years, she had watched Sophia lose herself in a hollow relationship, and it killed Annabelle to see her friend throw everything away for a man who never appreciated her. "Better late than never," Sophia offered with a weak smile. "Damn right it is," Annabelle declared. "Tonight, I'm getting us the best male models in town. You deserve some real attention." They ascended into the pulsating heart of the club, pushing through the glittering crowd toward the exclusive booth Annabelle had booked. As they moved past the entrance to a private booth, a burst of laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway. Amid the noise, Sophia's own name caught her sharp ear. "Got to hand it to Lucas. The minute Emily was back, he moved her right in. Word is, he showed Sophia the door." "Well, she had it coming. Play the simp, and you lose it all. Seriously though, that night in the booth with all the blood? I truly thought a tragedy had occurred, but it was probably just her period." "You're thinking about that? Man, have you had a thing for Sophia all along?" "Who'd pine after some nobody from a backwater? Only Lucas, with his unique preferences, would stick around for three years." "Guess the novelty wore off. Time for a change." Standing in the hallway, Sophia felt a cold stillness settle behind her eyes. The voices clicked into place—Lucas's oldest friends. They had been there that night, spectators to her most shameful moment. Annabelle's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind." But as she moved toward the door, Sophia stopped her with a gentle hand. "This is my battle to fight," Sophia said firmly. With that, Sophia pushed the door open and swept into the room. She settled gracefully onto the sofa, joining their conversation with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you're talking about unique preferences, I top him," she began, her voice deceptively light, "I recycled what Emily threw away. But it looks like I did everyone a favor by returning the trash to the dumpster where it belongs." A stunned silence fell over the room. Every face on the circular sofa stared at her in horrified fascination. Unbeknownst to Sophia, two figures had entered the room behind her during her speech. The guests' eyes darted nervously between Sophia and the newcomers, the air thickening with tension. There stood Lucas and Emily, their expressions dark as storm clouds. Their presence made Sophia turn. Her eyes instantly met the cold, dark stare of Lucas. But she didn't back down. A defiant shrug lifted her shoulders. "Look what the cat dragged in. My trash husband." Emily's eyes instantly glistened with tears. "Sophia, ignore them," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "It's all lies. Lucas and I are just friends." As if to prove her point, she clutched Lucas's arm. "Tell her, Lucas. Make her understand there's nothing going on between us." Sophia's gaze dropped to the hand clinging to Lucas's arm, and a faint, derisive smile touched her mouth. 'Just friends? Did she really expect anyone to believe that?' she thought bitterly. Lucas detached himself from Emily's grip and closed the distance between him and Sophia. The motion broke the tension, stirring his friends into action. "Hey, Lucas, take it easy," one of them said, stepping forward. "She's just reacting to our stupid jokes." "Come on, Sophia, just say you're sorry to Lucas," another one urged. "You know he'll forgive you." The suggestion made Sophia want to laugh bitterly. 'Is this really how they see me? As some lovesick fool who'd come crawling back at the first sign of forgiveness?' she thought. It explained everything—why, for three years, they had shown her phony respect as Lucas's wife while mocking her devotion in private. She had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn't met Lucas seven years ago, if that fateful incident hadn't tied her to him, she would have moved on with her life long ago. "Are you quite done?" Lucas's voice cut through her thoughts as he reached for her arm. She shifted her weight gracefully, letting his hand close on empty air. The rejected gesture hung between them for a beat too long before he withdrew, his features tightening with displeasure. Turning to Emily, who was now dabbing at her eyes, Sophia arched a brow. "There's no need for the waterworks. You're making it look like I'm the one being cruel here." "Sophia, I've treated you like my elder sister. I—" Emily began, trying to defend herself. "Don't," Sophia interrupted, her voice cool. "We arrived minutes apart, and you were first. Let's skip the emotional act." Emily's face turned from pale to deep red as she clenched her jaw in fury. 'Since when has Sophia found this kind of nerve? She used to shrink into silence whenever Lucas was near,' she thought. Despite her three-year absence from the city, Emily had ensured she received every scrap of information about Sophia's life. She knew all about Sophia's pathetic attempts to please Lucas, and she knew exactly how little he cared for his wife. She even knew they kept separate bedrooms, and that on the occasional night Lucas spent with Sophia, he always sent her back to her own room afterward. She knew that to Lucas, Sophia was just a body—convenient, disposable, and utterly unimportant. With a dark expression, Lucas grabbed Sophia's wrist and began pulling her toward the exit. Sophia's answer was a sharp, stinging slap across his cheek. The sound cracked through the air, and a dead silence fell over the room. All eyes were fixed on Sophia in pure shock. Everyone was wondering if she had lost her mind to dare something like that. Lucas slowly worked his jaw, the look in his eyes so dark that it promised retribution. When Sophia resisted, Lucas didn't hesitate. He swept her up onto his shoulder and carried her out of the room. The sight made Emily's heart clench. She'd never seen Lucas be so patient with anyone. Before she knew it, her hand was on his arm. "Lucas..." He didn't turn his head, but some of the tension left his expression. "I'm taking her home," he said firmly. "The driver will return for you when you're ready." Emily could only watch as Lucas walked away with Sophia. She had no right to stop him, but it stung—this was the first time he'd ever left her for another woman, especially one who meant nothing. Her hands tightened at her sides. 'I gave you a chance to walk away quietly, Sophia. You brought this on yourself,' she thought. Sophia's protests echoed down the hallway as she struggled against Lucas's hold. Unsure what was happening between the couple, Annabelle turned away, pretending she hadn't noticed them. Lucas carried Sophia into the elevator and stepped out briskly when it reached the basement level. As the car door opened, Lucas tossed Sophia into the back seat. Struggling upright, she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea from the prolonged time she'd spent upside down. She opened her mouth to curse, but the words died on her lips as the tinted window of a nearby Maybach began to descend. In the shadowy interior, the man's profile was sharp and forbidding. His lips were set in a firm line, and he sat with the imposing stillness of an iceberg, his presence pushing others away. Sensing her gaze, he glanced over, and their eyes locked. Without a word, Sophia averted her gaze and hid her face behind a veil of tangled hair. Chapter 7 Not Her Home Anymore Lucas's black Bentley pulled out of the underground parking garage, but Sophia was still lost in thought about those intense eyes. There was something familiar about them, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen them before. Lucas's voice broke the silence. "Did you follow me here? What are you so concerned about?" "What?" Sophia asked, snapping back to reality. Keeping his eyes on the road, Lucas tried to explain. "You know how my friends are—they never think before they speak. Don't take their words seriously. There's nothing going on between Emily and me." 'If there's really nothing between them, why was he being so protective? He only rushed me out because he was worried I might cause a scene and embarrass Emily,' Sophia thought. "Sure," Sophia said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You and Emily are completely innocent." "I'm trying to explain myself here," Lucas said, his patience wearing thin. "Do you have to be so sarcastic?" Her ungrateful attitude was beginning to irritate him. He remembered how she used to soften at the slightest reassurance. Now, it seemed her patience had worn thin. "Understood," Sophia said, her tone flat. "Is that all?" "I've been clear from the beginning—you are my wife, and that won't change. But if you want this marriage to work, you need to drop your little tricks. I won't play these games." Sophia stayed quiet, struck by his assumption that her mention of divorce was merely a plea for attention. Her silence tightened the air between them. "Don't become someone I resent, Sophia," he said with a frown, his voice low. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips as she turned toward the window, shutting him out completely. Sensing he had pushed too far, Lucas eased his tone. "I had your things moved back to our room. If you want to stay with me, just say so. There's no need for all this." Sophia was left speechless. ***** As the car came to a stop in the courtyard of Nightfall Estate, Sophia stepped out. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the cherry blossom grove in the garden. The sight sent a sharp pang through her chest. She forced her gaze away and continued into the villa. Inside, the decor had been completely redone. The new style, with its unmistakable resemblance to the Evans residence, clearly revealed who had overseen the renovations. She moved through rooms that felt entirely alien to her now, but she kept her thoughts to herself since this was no longer her home. Wendy looked surprised when she saw Sophia. "Mrs. Westwood, you've returned. Have you had your supper?" Sinking into the plush pink sofa, Sophia answered quietly, "Yes, thank you." Wendy offered a tight smile before retreating to her quarters to make a hurried phone call to Helen, reporting the unexpected arrival. Helen had never approved of Sophia, whom she saw as a plain nobody not good enough for her son. The infertility diagnosis hardened Helen's resolve to rush the divorce so Lucas could marry someone worthy of giving her grandchildren. The news of Sophia's sudden return after her dramatic departure kept Helen tossing and turning all night. Lucas had been certain Sophia would confront him about the complete makeover of their home. He stood ready to smooth things over, but she walked through the rooms without comment, her silence leaving him more unsettled than any argument would have. "If the decor isn't to your taste..." Lucas moved to sit beside her, his arms beginning to encircle her. Sophia reached for a throw pillow, tucking it between them as she shifted away from his embrace. The gentle rejection stung, though Lucas reassured himself that this was the same woman who had always adored him. "It's true. I prefer my original choices," she said calmly. "Can you have everything returned to how it was?" The warm, elegant furnishings had vanished, replaced by the overwhelming pinks that Emily favored—a transformation that had turned their home into something resembling a kitschy boutique hotel. Lucas shifted uncomfortably. "Let's not make a big deal out of it. You'll get used to the way things are around here." A faint, knowing smile curved on Sophia's lips as she met his gaze. That smile never failed to get under his skin. "Try to see it from her perspective, Sophia," he said, his voice tightening. "After everything she's been through these past three years, all Emily wants is to feel like she belongs." A wave of exhaustion washed over her. It was like talking to a brick wall. "I know," she said flatly. "You have your entire family backing you up," Lucas shot back, his patience clearly wearing thin. "But Emily? She has nobody else. Is it really so hard for you to be a little more compassionate?" "Funny," Sophia replied, her tone icy. "I was under the impression my adoptive parents were still very much alive." Besides, the Evans family had never once ceased to think about Emily throughout those three years. They made trip after trip to Felarica to celebrate Emily's birthdays and attend her parties. They even missed Sophia's wedding to Lucas because of her. A single social media post from Emily, complaining of her loneliness in Felarica, was all it took for them to drop everything and fly to her side. "Now that you've made it out of that dead-end town, you should be the last person to let Emily sink into it," he shot back. As Sophia looked at him, the last glimmer of hope in her eyes vanished. She knew well enough to stop mentioning divorce. To Lucas, it was just another act—proof that she was the same desperate woman the world thought her to be. If she couldn't get through to Lucas, she was going to find another path. Now, with her infertility diagnosis, she knew Helen would be far more impatient to act on this news. Sophia retreated to the master bedroom. Her possessions had claimed their space, with her clothes occupying half of the vast closet. A sense of normalcy had finally settled between her and Lucas, the kind that belongs to a husband and wife. But it was a fragile peace, already beginning to fray. Lucas was still in the living room when Emily returned. The air around her carried the sharp tang of liquor. Her face was deeply flushed, and she swayed slightly as she walked. He was at her side in an instant, his hand gently steadying her. "You've had far too much to drink," he murmured, his brow furrowed with worry. "This isn't good for you. I don't want to see you like this again." Emily turned into him, her arms finding their way around his neck. "I couldn't help it," she whispered, her voice thick with drink and emotion. "It's the only thing that dulls the ache." Sensing her legs might give way, he simply gathered her into his arms. "Wendy," he said to the housekeeper who had appeared, heading for the stairs. "Would you bring up some electrolyte water for Emily?" "Understood," Wendy replied. Playing the part of the drunken mess, Emily clung to Lucas and sobbed into his chest. "I've always regretted it," she cried. "Letting my pride push you away was the biggest mistake of my life." A long-buried tenderness tugged at Lucas's heart. "Let's try again, Lucas. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice," she whispered, tilting her face up to his. Just as their lips were about to meet, the master bedroom door swung open, and the sudden movement startled the couple in the hallway. Sophia stood in the doorway in her pajamas, watching them with a completely expressionless face. Lucas instantly snapped back to reality, and a rare look of panic flashed across his handsome face. "Sophie, Emily is drunk," he said quickly. "I'm just taking her back to her room." Still draped around him, Emily met Sophia's eyes over Lucas's shoulder. The tears were gone, replaced by a cool, triumphant smirk that held no trace of intoxication. Sophia's mouth curved into a humorless smile as she replied, "Yes, and you're drunk too." Without another word, she stepped back and slammed the door, the turn of the lock echoing decisively behind her. The idea of sleeping next to Lucas made her blood boil. She honestly didn't trust herself to lie beside him all night without her rage getting the better of her. Chapter 8 Divorce Settlement The next morning, as Sophia left her room, the guest room door across the hall opened at the exact same time. Lucas was stepping out, finishing with his tie. He glanced up and went completely still, finding Sophia already watching him from their bedroom doorway. Surprise flashed across his face, and he started with an explanation. "She was a mess last night," he said, his voice low. "I couldn't just leave her." Sophia's eyes dropped to the bright red smudge on his collar. Her eyes were filled with silent scorn as she thought about how filthy it was. She said with icy calm, "Relax, I know perfectly well that nothing would ever happen between you two, even when you don't have a stitch of clothing on." Her words cut off whatever excuse Lucas was about to offer. Anger darkened his features. "Think what you want," he snapped. "My feelings for her are purely brotherly." Sophia's eyes fell to the lipstick stain on his collar again. "So, how does it feel to be so close to your 'sister'?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Following her line of sight, Lucas saw the evidence, and a shadow of guilt crossed his face. "It was an accident," he insisted, his voice tight. "Don't make it sound so sordid." "So filthy," she murmured, shaking her head. As he drew a sharp breath to retaliate, she added with a cold smile, "I mean your shirt." He stared at her, his expression turning to stone. She merely offered a careless shrug and walked away, leaving him fuming in the hallway. Downstairs, Sophia was halfway through her breakfast when her phone vibrated on the table. A quick glance at the screen confirmed it was Helen calling. Just then, Wendy appeared with two additional breakfast plates. Sophia swiped to answer the call, a deliberate smile directed at Wendy. "You're calling so early, Mrs. Westwood." The pointed smile made Wendy's blood run cold, and at the mention of Mrs. Westwood, she was reminded of betraying Sophia by reporting to Helen last night. Stricken with guilt, she almost fumbled the tray. She dropped the plates onto the table and hastily retreated to the safety of the kitchen. A faint, cold smile touched Sophia's lips as Helen's venomous voice filled her ear. "Utterly devoid of manners," Helen sneered. "What else can you expect from someone with such a common background?" Sophia's eyes turned to ice. "Trace any lineage back three generations, Mrs. Westwood, and you'll find humble roots. It's distasteful to scorn your own origins." Helen found herself at a loss for words. Though Lucas's parents both had city roots, his grandparents' generation had all struggled in a backwater. Helen's parents had even lived in a cowshed. So in that regard, Helen was no better than Sophia. "That sharp tongue of yours is exactly why people can't stand you," Helen shot back. Sophia rolled her eyes in contempt. Biting back her anger, Helen forced a calmer tone. "We need to meet. There's a document for you to sign." "What kind of document?" "It'll be clear when you get here." Letting the matter drop, Sophia hung up. As she did, she saw Lucas descending the staircase. He had showered and changed, his hair perfectly styled like a model from the pages of a magazine. She had to admit, he was pleasing to look at. 'With those looks, he certainly has the assets for a career as a gigolo,' Sophia thought wryly. A smug feeling warmed Lucas as her eyes stayed on him. He drew out the chair next to hers and sat down. "Paliston Fashion Week is just around the corner," he offered. "It'll be a good chance for us to get away." In three years of marriage, it was the first time he had ever proposed such a thing. Sophia acknowledged him with a quiet hum, but she felt no spark of happiness or expectation. She saw the offer for what it was—a peace offering, born of the guilt he carried after his betrayal. Her ride showed up shortly after breakfast. Picking up her bag, Sophia walked out the door.
Chapter 1 His First Love Returned Sophia Evans could feel her world beginning to crack the moment she heard the news—the woman her husband, Lucas Westwood, had never gotten over was back. When Sophia arrived at the hotel's VIP suite with a gift, she found Lucas's first love—Emily Evans—being humiliated by his childhood friends. "Lick the wine off my shoe, Emily. I'll give you thirty thousand dollars," one of them said. Emily was forced to kneel on the floor, tears in her defiant eyes as she stared shamefully at Lucas. Lucas watched with a dark expression, saying nothing as he held his temper in check. Sophia halted mid-step, struck by the painful familiarity of the scene. Three years ago, when she had first been welcomed into the Evans family, these same privileged young men had tormented her in exactly the same way to gain Emily's favor. But back then, Lucas hadn't worn this expression of utter heartbreak. "There you are," Lucas said as soon as he spotted Sophia, his arm sliding around her waist in a show of intimacy. Only Sophia could feel the desperate pressure of his grip—a silent testament to the pain he was trying to conceal. Lucas's childhood friends had reserved the entire venue for his birthday celebration. But Sophia had never expected Emily to show up here. Everyone knew Lucas had married Sophia just to spite Emily. Three years ago, Emily's identity as a fake heiress was exposed. She broke up with Lucas then and there and left the Evans family behind. Lucas pursued her to the airport, boarded her departing flight, and forced the plane that had already taken off to turn back. Right there on that plane, he proposed to Emily. To his complete surprise, Emily refused without hesitation, declaring that the arranged marriage should be honored by the Evans family's true heiress. Humiliated and acting out of spite, Lucas married Sophia instead. For three years, Sophia had lived as Emily's stand-in. Everyone whispered that if Emily ever returned, Lucas would discard Sophia without a second thought. Sophia had once believed that too, but something had shifted in these past six months—Lucas seemed to be genuinely falling for her. He made grand declarations of love in the press, showered her with luxury homes and cars, and even replaced the cherry tree he'd planted for Emily with a garden full of red roses. In their most tender moments, he'd whisper against her ear, "Let's have a baby, Sophie. I hope they have your smile." Sophia's hand drifted absently to her stomach as she clutched the gift box a little tighter. Inside was a positive pregnancy test—meant to be Lucas's birthday surprise. But now, the timing of the gift felt all wrong. "You still think you're the Evans family princess, Emily? Lucas only has eyes for Sophia now. Why not be with me? A pretty thing like you deserves to be treated right," one of Lucas's friends, Ryan Shaw, sneered. He dragged Emily onto his lap, his hands already roaming over her. "Get your hands off me!" Emily cried, fighting against Ryan's grip as humiliation burned through her. Her resistance only fueled Ryan's excitement. In one swift motion, he shoved her down onto the couch, his powerful body trapping hers. Horrified that Ryan would assault Emily right in front of Lucas, Sophia jumped up to stop him, only to be shoved aside as Lucas already surged into action. As she stumbled, her hands instinctively reached for Lucas's arm, but he brutally shook her off. She hit the floor hard, a jolt of sharp pain shooting from her tailbone straight to her womb. Through the pain-induced haze, she saw Lucas grab Ryan by the collar, drag him off Emily, and pummel his face with brutal, unforgiving fists. "You've overstepped, Ryan. Emily is mine. Even if I discard her, she'll never be yours to touch," Lucas snapped. His words hung in the air, and the entire room fell silent as if frozen in time. Sophia stared at Lucas in disbelief, wondering where she stood in his life now that he had openly claimed Emily as his woman. All eyes in the room were drawn to the scene. Some watched with malicious delight, while others were simply captivated by the unfolding drama. Doubled over in pain, Sophia felt a warm wetness spreading beneath her. Her face paled as a cold dread gripped her heart. "Honey, my stomach hurts," she turned to Lucas instinctively. "Please, take me to the hospital." Without even glancing her way, Lucas removed his jacket and gently placed it around Emily's shoulders. Nestling into his embrace, Emily whispered, her voice trembling, "Lucas, I'm scared. Please take me away from here." "Don't worry," he murmured, holding her close. "I won't let anyone hurt you." Sweeping Emily into his arms, Lucas carried her out of the room, completely ignoring Sophia's pain-racked form shuddering on the floor. Perched comfortably on his shoulder, Emily gazed down at Sophia's crumpled form on the floor, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. The spectators murmured among themselves, still savoring the drama they'd just witnessed. "Emily's definitely the one for Lucas. He hasn't taken his eyes off her all night." "The way Lucas looks at her... I thought it was hatred, but it's clearly something else entirely." "Who could resist someone like her? I certainly wouldn't be able to stay angry." "Poor Sophia. She was just a side character in their love story." At the mention of Sophia's name, the crowd remembered her presence simultaneously, their attention shifting to where she sat. Sophia was in terrible pain and covered in a cold sweat until someone finally noticed her condition and quickly helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?" the guy asked. She gripped his arm tightly as the room spun around her. "Please take me to the hospital. My stomach hurts terribly," she pleaded. Then everything went dark as she fainted. Through the haze of semi-consciousness, distant screams about blood echoed in her ears. When Sophia regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital room. The sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the air as she lay alone in the quiet ward. A nurse tending to her bandages noticed her awakening. "You're awake," she said softly. Sophia's voice came out weak and fearful. "My baby... Is my baby alright?" "Your baby is fine," the nurse reassured her. "But you'll need to take special care. These first few months are particularly delicate in your condition." Relief washed over Sophia as grateful tears fell. "Thank you," she whispered, overwhelmed that her child was safe. Through the emotional turmoil, Sophia's first thought was to share the news with Lucas immediately. Wiping her tears, she reached for her phone and dialed his number. The phone rang several times before Lucas finally picked up. His voice was edged with impatience as he answered, "Not coming home tonight. Don't wait—" "Lucas, my hair's caught in this zipper," Emily's voice interrupted, floating through the line. "Could you give me a hand?" Sophia's knuckles went white around her phone. "Be right there," he said. The call ended before Sophia could form a response. Overnight, things between her and Lucas had reverted to how they were six months ago. Back then, he'd been all cold shoulders and sharp tones. Even in their most intimate moments, he treated her like just another need to be met. To him, she might as well have been a stranger—or worse, just a convenient body. So when he finally let his guard down, she'd been so grateful for the warmth that she fell harder than she ever meant to. She thought her years of longing had finally paid off. But reality slapped her senseless when Lucas chose Emily's safety over their own child's life. After being discharged from the hospital, Sophia caught a taxi home. Midway through the ride, her phone buzzed with a Twitter alert. It was a tweet from Emily: [You told me you'd hold my hand and never let go—not for the rest of our lives.] The attached photo showed Emily dressed like a princess, complete with a tiny crown, her hand locked tightly with a larger, elegant hand. Around the wrist was a bracelet made of prayer beads—the very one Sophia had prayed for in a church last year, when Lucas was burning up with fever. That day, he squeezed her hand and whispered a promise that he would never leave her side. Chapter 2 Ask Him For A Divorce The taxi stopped outside the Nightfall Estate, where Sophia paid the fare and got out of the vehicle. She was just heading inside when a truck carrying young cherry trees rumbled up the drive and stopped near the garden. Workers carefully unloaded the cherry trees and settled them into the prepared holes. Where a vibrant sea of red roses had bloomed just yesterday, now only upturned earth remained, with the plants piled carelessly to the side. A dull ache spread through Sophia's chest as she gazed at the rose petals strewn like crimson tears across the soil. The familiar purr of a luxury car engine approached from behind. Turning around, Sophia saw Lucas step out of the car. He stood tall and straight, radiating a natural air of calm elegance. "Honey..." Sophia began, but the words died on her lips as he leaned back into the car. With gentle care, he helped a woman step out—it was Emily, who looked radiant in an exquisite designer ensemble that made her complexion glow. Only when Emily was steady did Lucas's gaze finally meet Sophia's, those usually warm eyes now regarding her with detached indifference. "Did you need something?" he asked, his tone flat. The cold unfamiliarity in his look struck Sophia's heart like a physical blow. "Why are you tearing out the roses when they were growing so well?" she asked, desperate for his explanation. Those roses had been his special way of confessing his feelings to her. Lucas barely glanced at the destroyed garden. "Emily's not feeling well. She'll be staying with us for a bit." "What does that have to do with the roses?" she pressed. "She's allergic to the pollen," he said curtly, already turning to guide Emily inside. Sophia stood rooted to the spot, her heart breaking. Emily's delicate voice carried through the air. "Lucas, Sophia seems upset. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have complained about the roses." "She doesn't matter to me," Lucas reassured her. "But I worry she'll resent me. Really, I can manage with allergy medication," Emily offered, her voice dripping with false concern. "Medication always has side effects. Don't suggest things that worry me," he replied. Sophia stood motionless as she watched their figures grow smaller in the distance. A silent tear traced its way down her cheek while overwhelming sorrow washed over her. 'I don't matter to him... Yeah, right,' Sophia murmured with bitter irony, the truth of the words settling like a weight in her heart. He hadn't even asked about her absence last night, and now he had ordered her favorite roses to be torn out. The message was clear—she meant less to him than the slightest thought of Emily. For three years, she had devoted herself to him, offering unwavering love and comfort through difficult times. She had believed her constant warmth could thaw even the coldest heart, but Emily's reappearance had erased everything in an instant. She wondered what their intimacy these past six months had truly meant, and what role she had actually played in his life. A sudden twinge in her lower abdomen made her catch her breath. Pale and unsteady, she turned toward the villa. As Sophia stepped into the living room, she saw Emily nestled against Lucas on the sofa, watching with affectionate amusement as he peeled an orange for her. Lucas gently picked away every bit of white pith from the orange segments before arranging them on a plate for Emily. "For you," he said with a soft smile. "Enjoy, my little foodie." As Emily took the plate, she noticed Sophia entering the room. A triumphant smile graced her lips as she called out, "Sophia, would you like some? Lucas peeled these himself. Something you've never experienced, I'm sure." Sophia's gaze fell upon the perfectly prepared orange segments, and she felt a sudden sting behind her eyes. The painful truth was that in all their time together, Lucas had never once peeled an orange for her. She had always been the one serving him. The realization struck her with perfect clarity—Lucas knew well how to be thoughtful, but he simply reserved his kindness for Emily. Sophia felt her heart breaking into pieces as she finally understood how painful comparison could be. "She's perfectly capable of peeling her own fruit," Lucas said dismissively, barely glancing at Sophia. Then he noticed her pale complexion and added, "Are you alright? You look terribly pale." Sophia's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she debated telling Lucas her secret pregnancy. A fragile hope whispered within her—that this truth might finally soften his heart toward her. "I..." Her voice faltered, the words dying on her lips. "If you're ill, see a doctor. This pathetic act is getting tiresome," Lucas said, impatience flashing across his handsome features. He was annoyed by her wounded expression, which seemed to suggest she was the victim of some terrible injustice. Sophia swallowed her unspoken words, her gaze lingering on the man who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. "I'm fine," she murmured. "I'll just go to my room." As she turned toward the staircase, Lucas felt a surge of irritation. 'I must've been too lenient with her, and now she dared to show me attitude,' he thought, fuming. Sophia had only climbed a few steps when the housekeeper, Wendy, appeared descending the stairs with servants carrying boxes. The items looked familiar, but it was the sight of her stuffed doll in Wendy's arms that made Sophia realize everything they carried was hers. In a swift motion, she stepped forward and snatched the doll. Her voice turned icy as she asked, "Wendy, care to explain this?" "Mr. Westwood's orders," Wendy said quietly. "You're to move to the storage room downstairs." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, leaving her mind reeling. She turned to Lucas, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious." They'd already maintained separate bedrooms, but she never imagined that she'd be banished to a storage room instead of even being offered the guest suite after Emily's return. For a fleeting moment under her gaze, Lucas felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly hardened into resolve. "Emily needs the sunroom for her health," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your room gets the best light. It's better for her recovery." The absurdity of it all drew a bitter laugh from Sophia's lips. She thought his previous cruelty—shoving her while pregnant and replacing her roses with Emily's cherry trees—had been the worst it could get. But this new humiliation surpassed even that. All Lucas had done since Emily's return yesterday was talk about her. In just one day, she had turned Sophia's whole life upside down. Sophia expected to feel rage, but instead found only a hollow emptiness settling in her chest. 'Look at him, Sophia,' Sophia thought bitterly. 'This is the man you gave your heart and soul to. Was any of it worth it?' "If you're so worried about her comfort, why not just move her into your room? The master suite gets the best light anyway," Sophia shot back. Lucas responded sharply, "Sophia, you need to watch your tone." Emily's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I know you don't want me here, Sophia. I'll go. Please don't fight with Lucas over me." Sophia saw right through Emily's act. A humorless laugh escaped her as she spat, "You're not going anywhere. I am." Tightening her grip on the stuffed doll, she turned and headed for the door. "Don't you dare, Sophia." Lucas rose to his feet, his voice cutting through the room. "Walk out that door now, and don't expect to ever come back." Sophia's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "I'll make sure you receive the divorce papers," she said, her voice cold and steady. "See that you sign them." "You're asking me for a divorce?" Lucas's voice was low, thick with barely restrained fury. He added, his tone edged with contempt, "Have you forgotten who gave you this life, Sophia? The luxury, the status—all of it came from me. Without my name, you're just that wide-eyed girl fresh off that forgotten little town. You don't get to leave." Chapter 3 The Replaced Medical Result Sophia didn't need to look back to know the condescending smirk that was surely on Lucas's face. She knew he had always despised her. His proposal three years ago had been motivated only by a desire to fulfill the marriage agreement between their families and to exact revenge on Emily. She had been naive enough to believe his empty promises, offering him her genuine love when he saw her as nothing more than a pawn. To him, she would always be a leech, clinging to his wealth and name for survival. But now, she had reached her limit, and she no longer wanted him in her life. Sophia walked out without a backward glance. As she stepped through the gateway, the sound of shattering porcelain echoed behind her, but she no longer cared. Lucas stood amid the shattered remains, fingers pressed to his temples. His face was a mask of simmering anger. He dismissed the mention of divorce as just another one of her calculated moves, a transparent attempt to get his attention by pulling away. Emily watched him hesitantly. "Maybe I shouldn't be staying here, Lucas. Sophia seemed really upset." "It's nothing," Lucas replied evenly. Seeing how the mention of divorce had affected him, she suggested softly, "You could go after her. Women usually respond well to a little reassurance." "I don't have time for that," Lucas said, turning toward the staircase. With a business trip looming, his mind was elsewhere. 'Let her make a scene if she wants to,' he thought. 'She'll cool off and come crawling back. She always does.' ***** Sophia's home was a beautiful 3,200-square-foot apartment with an open-concept layout and sleek modern decor—all paid for with her own earnings. In her study, she printed the divorce papers and a letter resigning from her position. With a steady hand, she signed both, and then summoned a courier to deliver them directly to the Westwood Group. When she married Lucas three years ago, Sophia had joined his company, hoping to build a genuine connection with him. She started at the very bottom as an assistant and gradually earned her way up to department manager. She had wanted nothing more than to be close to him—in their home and at work. But in the end, her efforts were met with cold indifference. Gazing downward, Sophia softly cradled her stomach. "It's just us now, little one," she whispered. The courier arrived at Westwood headquarters while Lucas was away. His chief executive assistant, Kevin Chapman, received the delivery and signed. The moment Kevin saw the contents, he reached for the phone, dialing Lucas's number in haste. "Mr. Westwood, your wife has sent divorce documents." "Burn it all." On the other side of the ocean, Lucas loosened his tie as an unexpected wave of irritation came over him. "But Mrs. Westwood has even submitted her resignation letter..." Kevin replied, his tone hesitant. "She can't survive without this family." The blue flame from Lucas's lighter highlighted the grim set of his features. "Let her be. She'll come crawling back once reality sets in." Meanwhile, Sophia remained completely unaware of his words. Her morning had begun with a call from her mother-in-law, Helen Westwood. "Where are you? Return at once," Helen commanded in her typically imperious manner, leaving no room for discussion. Complying, Sophia drove back to the estate. No sooner had she stepped inside than a velvet box came hurling toward her head, which she narrowly avoided by stepping aside. Helen's shrill voice pierced the air. "How dare you avoid that? You've got some nerve." Sophia's gaze fell upon the velvet box at her feet, and suddenly, she understood why it seemed familiar. She remembered purchasing that exact box to store her pregnancy test results. On Lucas's birthday, she had intended to present it to him as a gift, but he had accidentally pushed her before she could give it to him, resulting in her hospitalization. Her heart leaped as she turned to face Helen's livid expression. 'Could she know about the pregnancy? But something about her reaction seems strange,' she wondered. For three years, Helen had made no secret of her disapproval of Sophia, someone raised in a small town. Yet every time Sophia visited the Westwood residence with Lucas, Helen would consistently nag Sophia about starting a family soon. If Helen knew Sophia was pregnant, she was supposed to be absolutely delighted instead of reacting like this. Helen clutched a medical report, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared down Sophia. "For three years, I've watched your marriage to Lucas, wondering why you never conceived. Now I understand—he married a barren woman. "If you hadn't left this at the hotel and Lucas's friend hadn't been kind enough to deliver it, I'd still be in the dark about your condition." Heart pounding with shock, Sophia ignored Helen's murderous gaze and snatched the document from her hand. The clinical report lay cold and pale in the morning light. There was her name, clearly printed, alongside the devastating diagnosis: "permanent infertility." 'Permanent infertility? But that's impossible. I'm pregnant. Someone must have switched my test results. But who would do such a thing?' Sophia wondered. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "This isn't my..." Emily, who had remained silent until now, suddenly interrupted, "Sophia, the Westwood lineage has been passed down through a single heir for ten generations. Are you trying to ensure Lucas dies without an heir? To extinguish the family line completely?" "How utterly heartless!" Helen exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Sophia as her anger reached its peak. "We've welcomed you with open arms since you married into this family. Yet you've been hiding this from us? To think you'd let our family line die out—it's truly despicable!" she added. Sophia didn't even attempt to explain herself. If they wanted to believe she was barren, so be it—it would only simplify the divorce proceedings. "I only received the results two days ago. I hadn't found the right moment to share the news," Sophia replied, her voice calm. "This wasn't about finding the right moment. You did this intentionally," Helen retorted, her face contorted with rage. "And you planned to give this to Lucas as a gift? What kind of twisted mind would conceive such a thing?" Sophia maintained her silence. Helen took a measured breath, forcing her anger down. "If you can't conceive naturally, I won't hold it against you. I've spoken with Emily, and she's agreed to donate her eggs so you and Lucas can pursue in vitro fertilization." Sophia stared in disbelief at the unexpected turn. "Could you repeat that?" She believed she had misheard because the suggestion was both preposterous and deeply offensive. "If you can't conceive, that's your problem. Emily is being extraordinarily generous by offering her eggs. The least you could do is show some appreciation instead of this ingratitude," Helen sneered. A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. "Perhaps you'd like to accept this generous offer yourself?" "How dare you speak to me like that!" Helen's eyes flashed with fury. "Sophia, you shouldn't speak to Mrs. Westwood that way. She was suggesting that for your sake," Emily said in a honeyed tone, reaching for the glass. As she moved, she made certain to display the prayer beads circling her delicate wrist. Sophia's breath caught—she would recognize the bracelet anywhere. That was the very ones she had sacrificed so much to obtain while praying for Lucas's recovery. It felt like a personal insult, seeing the bracelet that symbolized her love for Lucas now clasped around Emily's wrist. "For my sake?" Sophia repeated, the words tasting bitter as she caught the sly glint of satisfaction in Emily's eyes. It sent a sharp ache through her. She knew this game all too well. Emily had a gift for twisting people's vulnerabilities to her advantage, a lesson Sophia had learned the hard way three years ago. "I'm infertile. What possible use could I have for your eggs?" Sophia asked, her voice cold. "Do you really think I need a constant reminder of what I can't have?" Emily's smile vanished. For Helen's benefit, she bit her lip, her eyes instantly welling with feigned hurt. "Mrs. Westwood," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "I was only trying to help Sophia." Helen immediately comforted Emily by patting her hand. She then shot Sophia a disapproving look. "How can you be so selfish, Sophia? Are you really determined to let the Westwood family line die out?" Sophia gestured dismissively toward Emily. "Well, if she's so fertile, let her handle the baby-making." The thought of Emily getting to be a mother the easy way turned Sophia's stomach. Chapter 4 Take Back Her Things The color drained from both Helen's and Emily's faces. Helen stepped forward, jabbing a finger toward Sophia. "You think you're better than us? Then you give the Westwood family an heir. Don't blame anyone else for your own useless womb." Sophia bit back the sharp retort on her tongue. She was done with this family, done with Lucas. Arguing now would only prolong the inevitable. "Mrs. Westwood," she began, "I've decided—" Lucas's familiar, deep voice cut through the tension from the doorway. "Decided what?" Sophia turned to see Lucas standing there, his clothes rumpled from travel. His assistant, Kevin, hovered behind him with a suitcase in hand. The air in the room was thick with tension, so Kevin knew better than to stay. He simply left the suitcase by the door and made a quick exit. Loosening his tie, Lucas turned to Helen. "Mom, what brings you here?" "If I hadn't come, you'd have let our family name die out," Helen shot back. She then snatched the medical report from Sophia and flung it at Lucas's chest. "See for yourself," she said coldly, and with that, she swept out of the room. Lucas looked down at the document in his hands, and the words "permanent infertility" caused a faint twitch in his brow. His eyes, when they finally lifted to meet Sophia's, were devoid of warmth. "You'll go back to the hospital tomorrow for a full work-up. I will not have a wife who can't give me an heir." A hollow ache spread through Sophia's chest. Any foolish hope she'd been clinging to finally faded. Lucas had never defended her in three years of his mother's constant belittlement. And now, the ease with which he believed this lie revealed the chilling truth of his character. "I have the divorce papers right here," Sophia said, pulling the documents from her bag. She extended them toward him, her voice steady. "Just sign them, and you'll never have to see me again." Lucas didn't even look at the papers. In one swift motion, his hand closed around her throat, pulling her close. He leaned in until his face was mere inches from hers, and she could feel his warm breath and smell the familiar scent of his cologne. There was a time when this closeness would have made her heart flutter. Now, it only made her skin crawl. It was amazing how easy it was to walk away when all the love had drained away. "Sophia, have I been too soft with you?" Lucas's voice was thick with contempt. "Where exactly do you think you'll go without my protection?" She held his gaze without flinching. "That's really none of your concern anymore." "Still got that sharp tongue," he sneered. He released her with a dismissive shove, as if her defiance meant nothing. "Go make me dinner. I'm hungry." A wave of pain shot through Sophia's lower abdomen as she sank into the sofa, her skin turning clammy with an instant, cold sweat. Across the room, Emily slid her arm through Lucas's with practiced ease. "Don't let Sophia bother you," she murmured. "Her little scene was just a cry for your attention." Lucas pulled his tie free, his stern expression melting away as he focused on Emily. "How are you holding up?" he asked, his tone gentler. "I'm fine," she sighed, putting on a pitiful face. "It's just that the medicine is so awfully bitter." "It's bitter because it's strong. You need to keep taking it," he reminded her. "I picked up those candies you like. They're in my suitcase. Go get them yourself." "I know you always look out for me," Emily said, stretching up to press a light kiss to Lucas's cheek. "Consider that your reward." A look of quiet satisfaction crossed his features at the gesture. "I'm going up to shower," he said. "Go ahead," Emily said sweetly, fluttering a wave at him. She waited until Lucas's footsteps faded up the staircase before turning to the suitcase. They carried on as if Sophia weren't standing right there in the same room. Humming cheerfully, Emily unzipped the luggage. Alongside Lucas's neatly folded clothes sat a jar of shimmering candies and an elegant red velvet box that clearly held something valuable. Her eyes skipped over the candy, going straight to the velvet box. When she lifted the lid, a pink diamond necklace lay gleaming, its facets scattering rainbows in the light. "Oh, it's exquisite. I love it," she whispered, her eyes widening. "So the candy was just a decoy. This necklace is what he really wanted me to find." Draping the necklace against her collarbone, Emily turned to face Sophia, who had risen from the sofa. "Well, Sophia? Don't you think it suits me perfectly?" The pink diamond necklace around Emily's neck struck Sophia as oddly familiar. It came to her a moment later—she had coveted it last month while flipping through a magazine. Lucas had seen her fascination and promised to get it for her. The catch was its exclusivity—a single piece, sourced from Melaria, the country where Lucas had been attending to business. "That was for me," Sophia said, her voice calm. The man was disposable, but her possessions were not. She would reclaim what was rightfully hers. With a swift motion, Emily clasped the necklace. "Finders keepers," she said with a mocking grin. Sophia approached for a closer look. Though the necklace was more exquisite than its photograph, any desire for it had vanished. A wary look crossed Emily's face. "What is this about?" "To take what belongs to me, of course," Sophia said, stepping close and extending her hand. "It's time you returned it." Emily's hands instinctively flew to the diamond necklace at her throat. "Lucas will never stand for this, Sophia. You know what I mean to him." Sophia almost laughed. She knew well that Emily held a special place in Lucas's heart. But that was irrelevant. She was only claiming what was hers. "Give the bracelet back to me," Sophia said coldly. It was a token earned through true devotion, and she wouldn't let its significance be tarnished. Realizing Sophia only wanted the simple bracelet, Emily smiled condescendingly. 'Some shortsighted people have no taste,' she thought. Emily twisted the bracelet around her wrist. "I heard you went to Grace Abbey to beg for this good-luck charm," she said. "You are so hung up on him, aren't you?" The hypocrisy of her words was almost laughable. "Give it back," Sophia said, her voice like ice. Emily's eyes flickered to a point behind Sophia, and a sly smile touched her lips. She lowered her voice. "If you want it so badly, why don't you come and take it?" Sophia didn't stop to think. She grabbed Emily's wrist and tugged the bracelet free. The moment it was off, Emily's demeanor shifted completely. "Sophia, what are you doing?" she cried out, her voice suddenly loud and panicked. "Lucas gave this to me." Before Sophia could even turn around, a powerful hand seized her by the collar and hauled her backwards. The fabric dug sharply into her throat, stealing her breath. Stumbling to regain her footing, Sophia looked up to see Lucas. He was already cradling Emily. "Emily, are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern. Emily buried her face in his chest. "I'm fine," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Please, don't be angry with Sophia. She didn't mean it." Lucas's jaw tightened, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. He took a deep breath and fixed Sophia with an icy stare. "Apologize to Emily." Chapter 5 She Wants A Clean Break A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. She had fooled herself into thinking she was numb to Lucas's coldness. But his command still sent a fresh, sharp pain through her chest. She knew there was no point arguing with a man who had already chosen the other woman's side. "I won't apologize," Sophia said, her fist closing tightly around the bracelet. "What for?" Emily looked up at Lucas with well-practiced vulnerability. "I'm causing trouble here, Lucas. I should go." Lucas caught her wrist before she could take a second step. "You're staying right here." His attention snapped back to Sophia, his expression darkening. "Now, Sophia, apologize to Emily." The room blurred as tears filled Sophia's eyes, twisting his familiar face into a stranger's. She lifted the simple bracelet between them. "This is my stuff in the first place. Since when is taking back what was stolen a crime?" "Your stuff? Since when do you have anything of your own?" Lucas's lips curled in a sneer. "I've paid for every stitch of clothing on your back." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, forcing a bitter laugh from her lips. He knew perfectly well she earned her own living, yet he took every opportunity to demean her. "This bracelet came from Grace Abbey," she countered, her voice trembling. "You didn't pay a cent for it." Lucas's eyes dropped to the simple beads in her palm. "You think I care about some cheap bracelet?" he scoffed. Hot tears streamed down Sophia's face without warning. Wiping them away, Sophia made a silent vow—this would be the last time he reduced her to this. "Fine!" With one sharp motion, she snapped the bracelet's cord, sending beads skittering across the floor. Lucas watched the scattered beads come to rest, his hand curling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. He knew how much that bracelet meant to her, but the moment Emily wanted it, he didn't hesitate to take it off and hand it over. Lucas's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "Sophia!" "I want a divorce," Sophia said, her voice eerily calm. As she opened her hand, the last bead from the bracelet clattered onto the floor between them. "Let's just end this." The sound was small, but in the tense silence, it was deafening, echoing in Lucas's mind. He let out a short laugh, his gaze locked on her. "You think a threat will work? You should know better than that by now." 'This has to be a ploy,' he thought to himself. 'She loves me too much to go through with it. She has accepted her role as Emily's replacement from the beginning and has never once tried to leave. 'She would never have the strength to walk away from me.' "Go make us something to eat, and we can forget this ever happened." Lucas was certain he had thrown Sophia a lifeline. He waited, fully expecting her to be overcome with relief and scurry off to the kitchen. He'd been away on business, and days of unfamiliar rich food had left his stomach unsettled. What he craved was Sophia's cooking—simple, hearty food that tasted like home. It was a flavor he couldn't find anywhere else. "You can go eat your ass," Sophia shot back. She picked up her bag, her lips twisting into a scornful smile, and walked out without a backward glance. That smile grated on Lucas's nerves more than the insult itself. In his frustration, his eyes fell on the string of prayer beads lying scattered on the floor, and he gave them an impatient kick. 'So that's her game. She wants to challenge me? I'd like to see just how long her resolve will hold,' he thought, fuming. ***** Sophia sped away from Nightfall Estate, her phone buzzing relentlessly on the passenger seat. Lucas's name flashed across the screen again and again until she finally grabbed it and blocked his number for good. When she looked up at the road, she blinked, her vision blurring for a moment. She braced for the familiar sting of tears, but when her fingers touched her skin, it was dry. It was only then that she noticed the soft patter against the windshield. A fine drizzle had begun to fall, and a quiet melancholy settled over her, as gray as the sky. Up ahead, the flickering hazard lights of a sleek black car broke the rhythm of the rain. A man in a soaked suit, looking to be in his forties, stood beside it, waving frantically at passing traffic. Almost without conscious thought, Sophia found herself flipping on her turn signal and pulling over. She rolled down her window as the man rushed over. "Everything okay?" she asked. "It's my boss," the man said, his voice tight with panic. "He's having a heart attack. The ambulance is stuck in a multi-car accident. Please, can you take us to the hospital?" Sophia hesitated. Letting two strange men into her car, especially in this weather, felt dangerous. Every cautionary tale she'd ever heard flashed through her mind. Seeing her hesitation, the man added urgently, "I promise we're not dangerous. My boss is—" But Sophia was already moving, cutting the engine and stepping out into the downpour. "Just get him to my car, now," she called out as she rushed toward their vehicle. As she got closer, she recognized the distinctive emblem of the black Maybach. Working together, they carefully transferred the elderly man from the luxury sedan into Sophia's more modest car. The old man's lips were tinged with blue, and each ragged breath seemed like a struggle, clear signs of his critical condition. Sliding behind the wheel, Sophia started the car and pulled back onto the road, pushing through the veils of rain. In the backseat, the middle-aged man was a whirlwind of activity on his phone, coordinating with a hospital and alerting the family. Beyond the windows, the storm seemed to intensify, as if trying to match the urgency inside the car. After ensuring everything was in place, the man turned to Sophia with heartfelt appreciation. "You're the only one who stopped in this downpour. We can't thank you enough." A warm smile touched Sophia's lips. "Some things are just meant to be." ***** Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital entrance where medical staff stood ready. The team swiftly transferred the elderly man to a stretcher and hurried him inside for emergency care. Just as Sophia was about to drive away, she spotted a lone leather shoe in the backseat—the one the elderly man had been wearing. After a moment's hesitation, she parked properly and carried the shoe to the reception desk, logging it as a lost item. Sophia was just turning to leave when a group emerged from the hospital's main entrance. At the front of the group was a man whose height and posture commanded attention. He turned his sharp gaze on her, and the intensity in his eyes was so commanding that it felt like a physical pressure. 'That frown means trouble,' Sophia thought. She averted her gaze and continued walking, brushing past the group without a second look. It wasn't until she was back in the driver's seat that she felt the chill of her wet clothes clinging to her skin. As she dried her hair with a towel from the backseat, a notification popped up on her phone while she was opening the navigation app. It was a post from Emily: [Nothing says 'forever' like a soft-boiled egg made with love! My ultimate comfort food.] The post featured two photos—one showed a soft-boiled egg with a ketchup heart, and the other captured a tall man's back as he stood at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Sophia couldn't help but compare. When she was with Lucas, he had acted like even pouring her a glass of water was a significant concession. Cooking a meal was utterly out of the question. The fact that he was now cooking for Emily spoke volumes about where his true affections lay. She closed the page and entered her apartment address into the navigation system before driving out of the parking lot. As she watched the heavy rain outside, a single decisive thought crystallized in her mind—this marriage was over. Chapter 6 Return The Trash To The Dumpster That evening, a text came through from Annabelle Quinn, Sophia's best friend since college, insisting they go out to a lounge. The old Sophia would have declined immediately, conditioned to obey Lucas's rule about her not going out. But now that Sophia was divorcing him, his opinions held no weight. ***** The moment Sophia stepped out of the car, she saw Annabelle waiting by the entrance. "Hope you haven't been waiting long," she said as she approached. "Just got here," Annabelle grinned, looping her arm through Sophia's. "So, what's the special occasion? Did you finally get a night off from your sweetheart?" Sophia struggled to find the words, but she couldn't keep it from her best friend. "I'm getting a divorce," she finally said. "Let me guess," Annabelle said, not one to mince words in front of her best friend. "This is about Emily being back, isn't it?" "It's not just that," Sophia admitted, her voice quiet. It just took seeing the difference for herself to truly see how little her three years of effort had meant. Annabelle threw a supportive arm around Sophia's shoulders. "You should have woken up to this a long time ago." For three years, she had watched Sophia lose herself in a hollow relationship, and it killed Annabelle to see her friend throw everything away for a man who never appreciated her. "Better late than never," Sophia offered with a weak smile. "Damn right it is," Annabelle declared. "Tonight, I'm getting us the best male models in town. You deserve some real attention." They ascended into the pulsating heart of the club, pushing through the glittering crowd toward the exclusive booth Annabelle had booked. As they moved past the entrance to a private booth, a burst of laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway. Amid the noise, Sophia's own name caught her sharp ear. "Got to hand it to Lucas. The minute Emily was back, he moved her right in. Word is, he showed Sophia the door." "Well, she had it coming. Play the simp, and you lose it all. Seriously though, that night in the booth with all the blood? I truly thought a tragedy had occurred, but it was probably just her period." "You're thinking about that? Man, have you had a thing for Sophia all along?" "Who'd pine after some nobody from a backwater? Only Lucas, with his unique preferences, would stick around for three years." "Guess the novelty wore off. Time for a change." Standing in the hallway, Sophia felt a cold stillness settle behind her eyes. The voices clicked into place—Lucas's oldest friends. They had been there that night, spectators to her most shameful moment. Annabelle's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind." But as she moved toward the door, Sophia stopped her with a gentle hand. "This is my battle to fight," Sophia said firmly. With that, Sophia pushed the door open and swept into the room. She settled gracefully onto the sofa, joining their conversation with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you're talking about unique preferences, I top him," she began, her voice deceptively light, "I recycled what Emily threw away. But it looks like I did everyone a favor by returning the trash to the dumpster where it belongs." A stunned silence fell over the room. Every face on the circular sofa stared at her in horrified fascination. Unbeknownst to Sophia, two figures had entered the room behind her during her speech. The guests' eyes darted nervously between Sophia and the newcomers, the air thickening with tension. There stood Lucas and Emily, their expressions dark as storm clouds. Their presence made Sophia turn. Her eyes instantly met the cold, dark stare of Lucas. But she didn't back down. A defiant shrug lifted her shoulders. "Look what the cat dragged in. My trash husband." Emily's eyes instantly glistened with tears. "Sophia, ignore them," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "It's all lies. Lucas and I are just friends." As if to prove her point, she clutched Lucas's arm. "Tell her, Lucas. Make her understand there's nothing going on between us." Sophia's gaze dropped to the hand clinging to Lucas's arm, and a faint, derisive smile touched her mouth. 'Just friends? Did she really expect anyone to believe that?' she thought bitterly. Lucas detached himself from Emily's grip and closed the distance between him and Sophia. The motion broke the tension, stirring his friends into action. "Hey, Lucas, take it easy," one of them said, stepping forward. "She's just reacting to our stupid jokes." "Come on, Sophia, just say you're sorry to Lucas," another one urged. "You know he'll forgive you." The suggestion made Sophia want to laugh bitterly. 'Is this really how they see me? As some lovesick fool who'd come crawling back at the first sign of forgiveness?' she thought. It explained everything—why, for three years, they had shown her phony respect as Lucas's wife while mocking her devotion in private. She had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn't met Lucas seven years ago, if that fateful incident hadn't tied her to him, she would have moved on with her life long ago. "Are you quite done?" Lucas's voice cut through her thoughts as he reached for her arm. She shifted her weight gracefully, letting his hand close on empty air. The rejected gesture hung between them for a beat too long before he withdrew, his features tightening with displeasure. Turning to Emily, who was now dabbing at her eyes, Sophia arched a brow. "There's no need for the waterworks. You're making it look like I'm the one being cruel here." "Sophia, I've treated you like my elder sister. I—" Emily began, trying to defend herself. "Don't," Sophia interrupted, her voice cool. "We arrived minutes apart, and you were first. Let's skip the emotional act." Emily's face turned from pale to deep red as she clenched her jaw in fury. 'Since when has Sophia found this kind of nerve? She used to shrink into silence whenever Lucas was near,' she thought. Despite her three-year absence from the city, Emily had ensured she received every scrap of information about Sophia's life. She knew all about Sophia's pathetic attempts to please Lucas, and she knew exactly how little he cared for his wife. She even knew they kept separate bedrooms, and that on the occasional night Lucas spent with Sophia, he always sent her back to her own room afterward. She knew that to Lucas, Sophia was just a body—convenient, disposable, and utterly unimportant. With a dark expression, Lucas grabbed Sophia's wrist and began pulling her toward the exit. Sophia's answer was a sharp, stinging slap across his cheek. The sound cracked through the air, and a dead silence fell over the room. All eyes were fixed on Sophia in pure shock. Everyone was wondering if she had lost her mind to dare something like that. Lucas slowly worked his jaw, the look in his eyes so dark that it promised retribution. When Sophia resisted, Lucas didn't hesitate. He swept her up onto his shoulder and carried her out of the room. The sight made Emily's heart clench. She'd never seen Lucas be so patient with anyone. Before she knew it, her hand was on his arm. "Lucas..." He didn't turn his head, but some of the tension left his expression. "I'm taking her home," he said firmly. "The driver will return for you when you're ready." Emily could only watch as Lucas walked away with Sophia. She had no right to stop him, but it stung—this was the first time he'd ever left her for another woman, especially one who meant nothing. Her hands tightened at her sides. 'I gave you a chance to walk away quietly, Sophia. You brought this on yourself,' she thought. Sophia's protests echoed down the hallway as she struggled against Lucas's hold. Unsure what was happening between the couple, Annabelle turned away, pretending she hadn't noticed them. Lucas carried Sophia into the elevator and stepped out briskly when it reached the basement level. As the car door opened, Lucas tossed Sophia into the back seat. Struggling upright, she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea from the prolonged time she'd spent upside down. She opened her mouth to curse, but the words died on her lips as the tinted window of a nearby Maybach began to descend. In the shadowy interior, the man's profile was sharp and forbidding. His lips were set in a firm line, and he sat with the imposing stillness of an iceberg, his presence pushing others away. Sensing her gaze, he glanced over, and their eyes locked. Without a word, Sophia averted her gaze and hid her face behind a veil of tangled hair. Chapter 7 Not Her Home Anymore Lucas's black Bentley pulled out of the underground parking garage, but Sophia was still lost in thought about those intense eyes. There was something familiar about them, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen them before. Lucas's voice broke the silence. "Did you follow me here? What are you so concerned about?" "What?" Sophia asked, snapping back to reality. Keeping his eyes on the road, Lucas tried to explain. "You know how my friends are—they never think before they speak. Don't take their words seriously. There's nothing going on between Emily and me." 'If there's really nothing between them, why was he being so protective? He only rushed me out because he was worried I might cause a scene and embarrass Emily,' Sophia thought. "Sure," Sophia said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You and Emily are completely innocent." "I'm trying to explain myself here," Lucas said, his patience wearing thin. "Do you have to be so sarcastic?" Her ungrateful attitude was beginning to irritate him. He remembered how she used to soften at the slightest reassurance. Now, it seemed her patience had worn thin. "Understood," Sophia said, her tone flat. "Is that all?" "I've been clear from the beginning—you are my wife, and that won't change. But if you want this marriage to work, you need to drop your little tricks. I won't play these games." Sophia stayed quiet, struck by his assumption that her mention of divorce was merely a plea for attention. Her silence tightened the air between them. "Don't become someone I resent, Sophia," he said with a frown, his voice low. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips as she turned toward the window, shutting him out completely. Sensing he had pushed too far, Lucas eased his tone. "I had your things moved back to our room. If you want to stay with me, just say so. There's no need for all this." Sophia was left speechless. ***** As the car came to a stop in the courtyard of Nightfall Estate, Sophia stepped out. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the cherry blossom grove in the garden. The sight sent a sharp pang through her chest. She forced her gaze away and continued into the villa. Inside, the decor had been completely redone. The new style, with its unmistakable resemblance to the Evans residence, clearly revealed who had overseen the renovations. She moved through rooms that felt entirely alien to her now, but she kept her thoughts to herself since this was no longer her home. Wendy looked surprised when she saw Sophia. "Mrs. Westwood, you've returned. Have you had your supper?" Sinking into the plush pink sofa, Sophia answered quietly, "Yes, thank you." Wendy offered a tight smile before retreating to her quarters to make a hurried phone call to Helen, reporting the unexpected arrival. Helen had never approved of Sophia, whom she saw as a plain nobody not good enough for her son. The infertility diagnosis hardened Helen's resolve to rush the divorce so Lucas could marry someone worthy of giving her grandchildren. The news of Sophia's sudden return after her dramatic departure kept Helen tossing and turning all night. Lucas had been certain Sophia would confront him about the complete makeover of their home. He stood ready to smooth things over, but she walked through the rooms without comment, her silence leaving him more unsettled than any argument would have. "If the decor isn't to your taste..." Lucas moved to sit beside her, his arms beginning to encircle her. Sophia reached for a throw pillow, tucking it between them as she shifted away from his embrace. The gentle rejection stung, though Lucas reassured himself that this was the same woman who had always adored him. "It's true. I prefer my original choices," she said calmly. "Can you have everything returned to how it was?" The warm, elegant furnishings had vanished, replaced by the overwhelming pinks that Emily favored—a transformation that had turned their home into something resembling a kitschy boutique hotel. Lucas shifted uncomfortably. "Let's not make a big deal out of it. You'll get used to the way things are around here." A faint, knowing smile curved on Sophia's lips as she met his gaze. That smile never failed to get under his skin. "Try to see it from her perspective, Sophia," he said, his voice tightening. "After everything she's been through these past three years, all Emily wants is to feel like she belongs." A wave of exhaustion washed over her. It was like talking to a brick wall. "I know," she said flatly. "You have your entire family backing you up," Lucas shot back, his patience clearly wearing thin. "But Emily? She has nobody else. Is it really so hard for you to be a little more compassionate?" "Funny," Sophia replied, her tone icy. "I was under the impression my adoptive parents were still very much alive." Besides, the Evans family had never once ceased to think about Emily throughout those three years. They made trip after trip to Felarica to celebrate Emily's birthdays and attend her parties. They even missed Sophia's wedding to Lucas because of her. A single social media post from Emily, complaining of her loneliness in Felarica, was all it took for them to drop everything and fly to her side. "Now that you've made it out of that dead-end town, you should be the last person to let Emily sink into it," he shot back. As Sophia looked at him, the last glimmer of hope in her eyes vanished. She knew well enough to stop mentioning divorce. To Lucas, it was just another act—proof that she was the same desperate woman the world thought her to be. If she couldn't get through to Lucas, she was going to find another path. Now, with her infertility diagnosis, she knew Helen would be far more impatient to act on this news. Sophia retreated to the master bedroom. Her possessions had claimed their space, with her clothes occupying half of the vast closet. A sense of normalcy had finally settled between her and Lucas, the kind that belongs to a husband and wife. But it was a fragile peace, already beginning to fray. Lucas was still in the living room when Emily returned. The air around her carried the sharp tang of liquor. Her face was deeply flushed, and she swayed slightly as she walked. He was at her side in an instant, his hand gently steadying her. "You've had far too much to drink," he murmured, his brow furrowed with worry. "This isn't good for you. I don't want to see you like this again." Emily turned into him, her arms finding their way around his neck. "I couldn't help it," she whispered, her voice thick with drink and emotion. "It's the only thing that dulls the ache." Sensing her legs might give way, he simply gathered her into his arms. "Wendy," he said to the housekeeper who had appeared, heading for the stairs. "Would you bring up some electrolyte water for Emily?" "Understood," Wendy replied. Playing the part of the drunken mess, Emily clung to Lucas and sobbed into his chest. "I've always regretted it," she cried. "Letting my pride push you away was the biggest mistake of my life." A long-buried tenderness tugged at Lucas's heart. "Let's try again, Lucas. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice," she whispered, tilting her face up to his. Just as their lips were about to meet, the master bedroom door swung open, and the sudden movement startled the couple in the hallway. Sophia stood in the doorway in her pajamas, watching them with a completely expressionless face. Lucas instantly snapped back to reality, and a rare look of panic flashed across his handsome face. "Sophie, Emily is drunk," he said quickly. "I'm just taking her back to her room." Still draped around him, Emily met Sophia's eyes over Lucas's shoulder. The tears were gone, replaced by a cool, triumphant smirk that held no trace of intoxication. Sophia's mouth curved into a humorless smile as she replied, "Yes, and you're drunk too." Without another word, she stepped back and slammed the door, the turn of the lock echoing decisively behind her. The idea of sleeping next to Lucas made her blood boil. She honestly didn't trust herself to lie beside him all night without her rage getting the better of her. Chapter 8 Divorce Settlement The next morning, as Sophia left her room, the guest room door across the hall opened at the exact same time. Lucas was stepping out, finishing with his tie. He glanced up and went completely still, finding Sophia already watching him from their bedroom doorway. Surprise flashed across his face, and he started with an explanation. "She was a mess last night," he said, his voice low. "I couldn't just leave her." Sophia's eyes dropped to the bright red smudge on his collar. Her eyes were filled with silent scorn as she thought about how filthy it was. She said with icy calm, "Relax, I know perfectly well that nothing would ever happen between you two, even when you don't have a stitch of clothing on." Her words cut off whatever excuse Lucas was about to offer. Anger darkened his features. "Think what you want," he snapped. "My feelings for her are purely brotherly." Sophia's eyes fell to the lipstick stain on his collar again. "So, how does it feel to be so close to your 'sister'?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Following her line of sight, Lucas saw the evidence, and a shadow of guilt crossed his face. "It was an accident," he insisted, his voice tight. "Don't make it sound so sordid." "So filthy," she murmured, shaking her head. As he drew a sharp breath to retaliate, she added with a cold smile, "I mean your shirt." He stared at her, his expression turning to stone. She merely offered a careless shrug and walked away, leaving him fuming in the hallway. Downstairs, Sophia was halfway through her breakfast when her phone vibrated on the table. A quick glance at the screen confirmed it was Helen calling. Just then, Wendy appeared with two additional breakfast plates. Sophia swiped to answer the call, a deliberate smile directed at Wendy. "You're calling so early, Mrs. Westwood." The pointed smile made Wendy's blood run cold, and at the mention of Mrs. Westwood, she was reminded of betraying Sophia by reporting to Helen last night. Stricken with guilt, she almost fumbled the tray. She dropped the plates onto the table and hastily retreated to the safety of the kitchen. A faint, cold smile touched Sophia's lips as Helen's venomous voice filled her ear. "Utterly devoid of manners," Helen sneered. "What else can you expect from someone with such a common background?" Sophia's eyes turned to ice. "Trace any lineage back three generations, Mrs. Westwood, and you'll find humble roots. It's distasteful to scorn your own origins." Helen found herself at a loss for words. Though Lucas's parents both had city roots, his grandparents' generation had all struggled in a backwater. Helen's parents had even lived in a cowshed. So in that regard, Helen was no better than Sophia. "That sharp tongue of yours is exactly why people can't stand you," Helen shot back. Sophia rolled her eyes in contempt. Biting back her anger, Helen forced a calmer tone. "We need to meet. There's a document for you to sign." "What kind of document?" "It'll be clear when you get here." Letting the matter drop, Sophia hung up. As she did, she saw Lucas descending the staircase. He had showered and changed, his hair perfectly styled like a model from the pages of a magazine. She had to admit, he was pleasing to look at. 'With those looks, he certainly has the assets for a career as a gigolo,' Sophia thought wryly. A smug feeling warmed Lucas as her eyes stayed on him. He drew out the chair next to hers and sat down. "Paliston Fashion Week is just around the corner," he offered. "It'll be a good chance for us to get away." In three years of marriage, it was the first time he had ever proposed such a thing. Sophia acknowledged him with a quiet hum, but she felt no spark of happiness or expectation. She saw the offer for what it was—a peace offering, born of the guilt he carried after his betrayal. Her ride showed up shortly after breakfast. Picking up her bag, Sophia walked out the door.
Chapter 1 His First Love Returned Sophia Evans could feel her world beginning to crack the moment she heard the news—the woman her husband, Lucas Westwood, had never gotten over was back. When Sophia arrived at the hotel's VIP suite with a gift, she found Lucas's first love—Emily Evans—being humiliated by his childhood friends. "Lick the wine off my shoe, Emily. I'll give you thirty thousand dollars," one of them said. Emily was forced to kneel on the floor, tears in her defiant eyes as she stared shamefully at Lucas. Lucas watched with a dark expression, saying nothing as he held his temper in check. Sophia halted mid-step, struck by the painful familiarity of the scene. Three years ago, when she had first been welcomed into the Evans family, these same privileged young men had tormented her in exactly the same way to gain Emily's favor. But back then, Lucas hadn't worn this expression of utter heartbreak. "There you are," Lucas said as soon as he spotted Sophia, his arm sliding around her waist in a show of intimacy. Only Sophia could feel the desperate pressure of his grip—a silent testament to the pain he was trying to conceal. Lucas's childhood friends had reserved the entire venue for his birthday celebration. But Sophia had never expected Emily to show up here. Everyone knew Lucas had married Sophia just to spite Emily. Three years ago, Emily's identity as a fake heiress was exposed. She broke up with Lucas then and there and left the Evans family behind. Lucas pursued her to the airport, boarded her departing flight, and forced the plane that had already taken off to turn back. Right there on that plane, he proposed to Emily. To his complete surprise, Emily refused without hesitation, declaring that the arranged marriage should be honored by the Evans family's true heiress. Humiliated and acting out of spite, Lucas married Sophia instead. For three years, Sophia had lived as Emily's stand-in. Everyone whispered that if Emily ever returned, Lucas would discard Sophia without a second thought. Sophia had once believed that too, but something had shifted in these past six months—Lucas seemed to be genuinely falling for her. He made grand declarations of love in the press, showered her with luxury homes and cars, and even replaced the cherry tree he'd planted for Emily with a garden full of red roses. In their most tender moments, he'd whisper against her ear, "Let's have a baby, Sophie. I hope they have your smile." Sophia's hand drifted absently to her stomach as she clutched the gift box a little tighter. Inside was a positive pregnancy test—meant to be Lucas's birthday surprise. But now, the timing of the gift felt all wrong. "You still think you're the Evans family princess, Emily? Lucas only has eyes for Sophia now. Why not be with me? A pretty thing like you deserves to be treated right," one of Lucas's friends, Ryan Shaw, sneered. He dragged Emily onto his lap, his hands already roaming over her. "Get your hands off me!" Emily cried, fighting against Ryan's grip as humiliation burned through her. Her resistance only fueled Ryan's excitement. In one swift motion, he shoved her down onto the couch, his powerful body trapping hers. Horrified that Ryan would assault Emily right in front of Lucas, Sophia jumped up to stop him, only to be shoved aside as Lucas already surged into action. As she stumbled, her hands instinctively reached for Lucas's arm, but he brutally shook her off. She hit the floor hard, a jolt of sharp pain shooting from her tailbone straight to her womb. Through the pain-induced haze, she saw Lucas grab Ryan by the collar, drag him off Emily, and pummel his face with brutal, unforgiving fists. "You've overstepped, Ryan. Emily is mine. Even if I discard her, she'll never be yours to touch," Lucas snapped. His words hung in the air, and the entire room fell silent as if frozen in time. Sophia stared at Lucas in disbelief, wondering where she stood in his life now that he had openly claimed Emily as his woman. All eyes in the room were drawn to the scene. Some watched with malicious delight, while others were simply captivated by the unfolding drama. Doubled over in pain, Sophia felt a warm wetness spreading beneath her. Her face paled as a cold dread gripped her heart. "Honey, my stomach hurts," she turned to Lucas instinctively. "Please, take me to the hospital." Without even glancing her way, Lucas removed his jacket and gently placed it around Emily's shoulders. Nestling into his embrace, Emily whispered, her voice trembling, "Lucas, I'm scared. Please take me away from here." "Don't worry," he murmured, holding her close. "I won't let anyone hurt you." Sweeping Emily into his arms, Lucas carried her out of the room, completely ignoring Sophia's pain-racked form shuddering on the floor. Perched comfortably on his shoulder, Emily gazed down at Sophia's crumpled form on the floor, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. The spectators murmured among themselves, still savoring the drama they'd just witnessed. "Emily's definitely the one for Lucas. He hasn't taken his eyes off her all night." "The way Lucas looks at her... I thought it was hatred, but it's clearly something else entirely." "Who could resist someone like her? I certainly wouldn't be able to stay angry." "Poor Sophia. She was just a side character in their love story." At the mention of Sophia's name, the crowd remembered her presence simultaneously, their attention shifting to where she sat. Sophia was in terrible pain and covered in a cold sweat until someone finally noticed her condition and quickly helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?" the guy asked. She gripped his arm tightly as the room spun around her. "Please take me to the hospital. My stomach hurts terribly," she pleaded. Then everything went dark as she fainted. Through the haze of semi-consciousness, distant screams about blood echoed in her ears. When Sophia regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital room. The sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the air as she lay alone in the quiet ward. A nurse tending to her bandages noticed her awakening. "You're awake," she said softly. Sophia's voice came out weak and fearful. "My baby... Is my baby alright?" "Your baby is fine," the nurse reassured her. "But you'll need to take special care. These first few months are particularly delicate in your condition." Relief washed over Sophia as grateful tears fell. "Thank you," she whispered, overwhelmed that her child was safe. Through the emotional turmoil, Sophia's first thought was to share the news with Lucas immediately. Wiping her tears, she reached for her phone and dialed his number. The phone rang several times before Lucas finally picked up. His voice was edged with impatience as he answered, "Not coming home tonight. Don't wait—" "Lucas, my hair's caught in this zipper," Emily's voice interrupted, floating through the line. "Could you give me a hand?" Sophia's knuckles went white around her phone. "Be right there," he said. The call ended before Sophia could form a response. Overnight, things between her and Lucas had reverted to how they were six months ago. Back then, he'd been all cold shoulders and sharp tones. Even in their most intimate moments, he treated her like just another need to be met. To him, she might as well have been a stranger—or worse, just a convenient body. So when he finally let his guard down, she'd been so grateful for the warmth that she fell harder than she ever meant to. She thought her years of longing had finally paid off. But reality slapped her senseless when Lucas chose Emily's safety over their own child's life. After being discharged from the hospital, Sophia caught a taxi home. Midway through the ride, her phone buzzed with a Twitter alert. It was a tweet from Emily: [You told me you'd hold my hand and never let go—not for the rest of our lives.] The attached photo showed Emily dressed like a princess, complete with a tiny crown, her hand locked tightly with a larger, elegant hand. Around the wrist was a bracelet made of prayer beads—the very one Sophia had prayed for in a church last year, when Lucas was burning up with fever. That day, he squeezed her hand and whispered a promise that he would never leave her side. Chapter 2 Ask Him For A Divorce The taxi stopped outside the Nightfall Estate, where Sophia paid the fare and got out of the vehicle. She was just heading inside when a truck carrying young cherry trees rumbled up the drive and stopped near the garden. Workers carefully unloaded the cherry trees and settled them into the prepared holes. Where a vibrant sea of red roses had bloomed just yesterday, now only upturned earth remained, with the plants piled carelessly to the side. A dull ache spread through Sophia's chest as she gazed at the rose petals strewn like crimson tears across the soil. The familiar purr of a luxury car engine approached from behind. Turning around, Sophia saw Lucas step out of the car. He stood tall and straight, radiating a natural air of calm elegance. "Honey..." Sophia began, but the words died on her lips as he leaned back into the car. With gentle care, he helped a woman step out—it was Emily, who looked radiant in an exquisite designer ensemble that made her complexion glow. Only when Emily was steady did Lucas's gaze finally meet Sophia's, those usually warm eyes now regarding her with detached indifference. "Did you need something?" he asked, his tone flat. The cold unfamiliarity in his look struck Sophia's heart like a physical blow. "Why are you tearing out the roses when they were growing so well?" she asked, desperate for his explanation. Those roses had been his special way of confessing his feelings to her. Lucas barely glanced at the destroyed garden. "Emily's not feeling well. She'll be staying with us for a bit." "What does that have to do with the roses?" she pressed. "She's allergic to the pollen," he said curtly, already turning to guide Emily inside. Sophia stood rooted to the spot, her heart breaking. Emily's delicate voice carried through the air. "Lucas, Sophia seems upset. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have complained about the roses." "She doesn't matter to me," Lucas reassured her. "But I worry she'll resent me. Really, I can manage with allergy medication," Emily offered, her voice dripping with false concern. "Medication always has side effects. Don't suggest things that worry me," he replied. Sophia stood motionless as she watched their figures grow smaller in the distance. A silent tear traced its way down her cheek while overwhelming sorrow washed over her. 'I don't matter to him... Yeah, right,' Sophia murmured with bitter irony, the truth of the words settling like a weight in her heart. He hadn't even asked about her absence last night, and now he had ordered her favorite roses to be torn out. The message was clear—she meant less to him than the slightest thought of Emily. For three years, she had devoted herself to him, offering unwavering love and comfort through difficult times. She had believed her constant warmth could thaw even the coldest heart, but Emily's reappearance had erased everything in an instant. She wondered what their intimacy these past six months had truly meant, and what role she had actually played in his life. A sudden twinge in her lower abdomen made her catch her breath. Pale and unsteady, she turned toward the villa. As Sophia stepped into the living room, she saw Emily nestled against Lucas on the sofa, watching with affectionate amusement as he peeled an orange for her. Lucas gently picked away every bit of white pith from the orange segments before arranging them on a plate for Emily. "For you," he said with a soft smile. "Enjoy, my little foodie." As Emily took the plate, she noticed Sophia entering the room. A triumphant smile graced her lips as she called out, "Sophia, would you like some? Lucas peeled these himself. Something you've never experienced, I'm sure." Sophia's gaze fell upon the perfectly prepared orange segments, and she felt a sudden sting behind her eyes. The painful truth was that in all their time together, Lucas had never once peeled an orange for her. She had always been the one serving him. The realization struck her with perfect clarity—Lucas knew well how to be thoughtful, but he simply reserved his kindness for Emily. Sophia felt her heart breaking into pieces as she finally understood how painful comparison could be. "She's perfectly capable of peeling her own fruit," Lucas said dismissively, barely glancing at Sophia. Then he noticed her pale complexion and added, "Are you alright? You look terribly pale." Sophia's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she debated telling Lucas her secret pregnancy. A fragile hope whispered within her—that this truth might finally soften his heart toward her. "I..." Her voice faltered, the words dying on her lips. "If you're ill, see a doctor. This pathetic act is getting tiresome," Lucas said, impatience flashing across his handsome features. He was annoyed by her wounded expression, which seemed to suggest she was the victim of some terrible injustice. Sophia swallowed her unspoken words, her gaze lingering on the man who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. "I'm fine," she murmured. "I'll just go to my room." As she turned toward the staircase, Lucas felt a surge of irritation. 'I must've been too lenient with her, and now she dared to show me attitude,' he thought, fuming. Sophia had only climbed a few steps when the housekeeper, Wendy, appeared descending the stairs with servants carrying boxes. The items looked familiar, but it was the sight of her stuffed doll in Wendy's arms that made Sophia realize everything they carried was hers. In a swift motion, she stepped forward and snatched the doll. Her voice turned icy as she asked, "Wendy, care to explain this?" "Mr. Westwood's orders," Wendy said quietly. "You're to move to the storage room downstairs." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, leaving her mind reeling. She turned to Lucas, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious." They'd already maintained separate bedrooms, but she never imagined that she'd be banished to a storage room instead of even being offered the guest suite after Emily's return. For a fleeting moment under her gaze, Lucas felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly hardened into resolve. "Emily needs the sunroom for her health," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your room gets the best light. It's better for her recovery." The absurdity of it all drew a bitter laugh from Sophia's lips. She thought his previous cruelty—shoving her while pregnant and replacing her roses with Emily's cherry trees—had been the worst it could get. But this new humiliation surpassed even that. All Lucas had done since Emily's return yesterday was talk about her. In just one day, she had turned Sophia's whole life upside down. Sophia expected to feel rage, but instead found only a hollow emptiness settling in her chest. 'Look at him, Sophia,' Sophia thought bitterly. 'This is the man you gave your heart and soul to. Was any of it worth it?' "If you're so worried about her comfort, why not just move her into your room? The master suite gets the best light anyway," Sophia shot back. Lucas responded sharply, "Sophia, you need to watch your tone." Emily's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I know you don't want me here, Sophia. I'll go. Please don't fight with Lucas over me." Sophia saw right through Emily's act. A humorless laugh escaped her as she spat, "You're not going anywhere. I am." Tightening her grip on the stuffed doll, she turned and headed for the door. "Don't you dare, Sophia." Lucas rose to his feet, his voice cutting through the room. "Walk out that door now, and don't expect to ever come back." Sophia's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "I'll make sure you receive the divorce papers," she said, her voice cold and steady. "See that you sign them." "You're asking me for a divorce?" Lucas's voice was low, thick with barely restrained fury. He added, his tone edged with contempt, "Have you forgotten who gave you this life, Sophia? The luxury, the status—all of it came from me. Without my name, you're just that wide-eyed girl fresh off that forgotten little town. You don't get to leave." Chapter 3 The Replaced Medical Result Sophia didn't need to look back to know the condescending smirk that was surely on Lucas's face. She knew he had always despised her. His proposal three years ago had been motivated only by a desire to fulfill the marriage agreement between their families and to exact revenge on Emily. She had been naive enough to believe his empty promises, offering him her genuine love when he saw her as nothing more than a pawn. To him, she would always be a leech, clinging to his wealth and name for survival. But now, she had reached her limit, and she no longer wanted him in her life. Sophia walked out without a backward glance. As she stepped through the gateway, the sound of shattering porcelain echoed behind her, but she no longer cared. Lucas stood amid the shattered remains, fingers pressed to his temples. His face was a mask of simmering anger. He dismissed the mention of divorce as just another one of her calculated moves, a transparent attempt to get his attention by pulling away. Emily watched him hesitantly. "Maybe I shouldn't be staying here, Lucas. Sophia seemed really upset." "It's nothing," Lucas replied evenly. Seeing how the mention of divorce had affected him, she suggested softly, "You could go after her. Women usually respond well to a little reassurance." "I don't have time for that," Lucas said, turning toward the staircase. With a business trip looming, his mind was elsewhere. 'Let her make a scene if she wants to,' he thought. 'She'll cool off and come crawling back. She always does.' ***** Sophia's home was a beautiful 3,200-square-foot apartment with an open-concept layout and sleek modern decor—all paid for with her own earnings. In her study, she printed the divorce papers and a letter resigning from her position. With a steady hand, she signed both, and then summoned a courier to deliver them directly to the Westwood Group. When she married Lucas three years ago, Sophia had joined his company, hoping to build a genuine connection with him. She started at the very bottom as an assistant and gradually earned her way up to department manager. She had wanted nothing more than to be close to him—in their home and at work. But in the end, her efforts were met with cold indifference. Gazing downward, Sophia softly cradled her stomach. "It's just us now, little one," she whispered. The courier arrived at Westwood headquarters while Lucas was away. His chief executive assistant, Kevin Chapman, received the delivery and signed. The moment Kevin saw the contents, he reached for the phone, dialing Lucas's number in haste. "Mr. Westwood, your wife has sent divorce documents." "Burn it all." On the other side of the ocean, Lucas loosened his tie as an unexpected wave of irritation came over him. "But Mrs. Westwood has even submitted her resignation letter..." Kevin replied, his tone hesitant. "She can't survive without this family." The blue flame from Lucas's lighter highlighted the grim set of his features. "Let her be. She'll come crawling back once reality sets in." Meanwhile, Sophia remained completely unaware of his words. Her morning had begun with a call from her mother-in-law, Helen Westwood. "Where are you? Return at once," Helen commanded in her typically imperious manner, leaving no room for discussion. Complying, Sophia drove back to the estate. No sooner had she stepped inside than a velvet box came hurling toward her head, which she narrowly avoided by stepping aside. Helen's shrill voice pierced the air. "How dare you avoid that? You've got some nerve." Sophia's gaze fell upon the velvet box at her feet, and suddenly, she understood why it seemed familiar. She remembered purchasing that exact box to store her pregnancy test results. On Lucas's birthday, she had intended to present it to him as a gift, but he had accidentally pushed her before she could give it to him, resulting in her hospitalization. Her heart leaped as she turned to face Helen's livid expression. 'Could she know about the pregnancy? But something about her reaction seems strange,' she wondered. For three years, Helen had made no secret of her disapproval of Sophia, someone raised in a small town. Yet every time Sophia visited the Westwood residence with Lucas, Helen would consistently nag Sophia about starting a family soon. If Helen knew Sophia was pregnant, she was supposed to be absolutely delighted instead of reacting like this. Helen clutched a medical report, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared down Sophia. "For three years, I've watched your marriage to Lucas, wondering why you never conceived. Now I understand—he married a barren woman. "If you hadn't left this at the hotel and Lucas's friend hadn't been kind enough to deliver it, I'd still be in the dark about your condition." Heart pounding with shock, Sophia ignored Helen's murderous gaze and snatched the document from her hand. The clinical report lay cold and pale in the morning light. There was her name, clearly printed, alongside the devastating diagnosis: "permanent infertility." 'Permanent infertility? But that's impossible. I'm pregnant. Someone must have switched my test results. But who would do such a thing?' Sophia wondered. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "This isn't my..." Emily, who had remained silent until now, suddenly interrupted, "Sophia, the Westwood lineage has been passed down through a single heir for ten generations. Are you trying to ensure Lucas dies without an heir? To extinguish the family line completely?" "How utterly heartless!" Helen exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Sophia as her anger reached its peak. "We've welcomed you with open arms since you married into this family. Yet you've been hiding this from us? To think you'd let our family line die out—it's truly despicable!" she added. Sophia didn't even attempt to explain herself. If they wanted to believe she was barren, so be it—it would only simplify the divorce proceedings. "I only received the results two days ago. I hadn't found the right moment to share the news," Sophia replied, her voice calm. "This wasn't about finding the right moment. You did this intentionally," Helen retorted, her face contorted with rage. "And you planned to give this to Lucas as a gift? What kind of twisted mind would conceive such a thing?" Sophia maintained her silence. Helen took a measured breath, forcing her anger down. "If you can't conceive naturally, I won't hold it against you. I've spoken with Emily, and she's agreed to donate her eggs so you and Lucas can pursue in vitro fertilization." Sophia stared in disbelief at the unexpected turn. "Could you repeat that?" She believed she had misheard because the suggestion was both preposterous and deeply offensive. "If you can't conceive, that's your problem. Emily is being extraordinarily generous by offering her eggs. The least you could do is show some appreciation instead of this ingratitude," Helen sneered. A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. "Perhaps you'd like to accept this generous offer yourself?" "How dare you speak to me like that!" Helen's eyes flashed with fury. "Sophia, you shouldn't speak to Mrs. Westwood that way. She was suggesting that for your sake," Emily said in a honeyed tone, reaching for the glass. As she moved, she made certain to display the prayer beads circling her delicate wrist. Sophia's breath caught—she would recognize the bracelet anywhere. That was the very ones she had sacrificed so much to obtain while praying for Lucas's recovery. It felt like a personal insult, seeing the bracelet that symbolized her love for Lucas now clasped around Emily's wrist. "For my sake?" Sophia repeated, the words tasting bitter as she caught the sly glint of satisfaction in Emily's eyes. It sent a sharp ache through her. She knew this game all too well. Emily had a gift for twisting people's vulnerabilities to her advantage, a lesson Sophia had learned the hard way three years ago. "I'm infertile. What possible use could I have for your eggs?" Sophia asked, her voice cold. "Do you really think I need a constant reminder of what I can't have?" Emily's smile vanished. For Helen's benefit, she bit her lip, her eyes instantly welling with feigned hurt. "Mrs. Westwood," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "I was only trying to help Sophia." Helen immediately comforted Emily by patting her hand. She then shot Sophia a disapproving look. "How can you be so selfish, Sophia? Are you really determined to let the Westwood family line die out?" Sophia gestured dismissively toward Emily. "Well, if she's so fertile, let her handle the baby-making." The thought of Emily getting to be a mother the easy way turned Sophia's stomach. Chapter 4 Take Back Her Things The color drained from both Helen's and Emily's faces. Helen stepped forward, jabbing a finger toward Sophia. "You think you're better than us? Then you give the Westwood family an heir. Don't blame anyone else for your own useless womb." Sophia bit back the sharp retort on her tongue. She was done with this family, done with Lucas. Arguing now would only prolong the inevitable. "Mrs. Westwood," she began, "I've decided—" Lucas's familiar, deep voice cut through the tension from the doorway. "Decided what?" Sophia turned to see Lucas standing there, his clothes rumpled from travel. His assistant, Kevin, hovered behind him with a suitcase in hand. The air in the room was thick with tension, so Kevin knew better than to stay. He simply left the suitcase by the door and made a quick exit. Loosening his tie, Lucas turned to Helen. "Mom, what brings you here?" "If I hadn't come, you'd have let our family name die out," Helen shot back. She then snatched the medical report from Sophia and flung it at Lucas's chest. "See for yourself," she said coldly, and with that, she swept out of the room. Lucas looked down at the document in his hands, and the words "permanent infertility" caused a faint twitch in his brow. His eyes, when they finally lifted to meet Sophia's, were devoid of warmth. "You'll go back to the hospital tomorrow for a full work-up. I will not have a wife who can't give me an heir." A hollow ache spread through Sophia's chest. Any foolish hope she'd been clinging to finally faded. Lucas had never defended her in three years of his mother's constant belittlement. And now, the ease with which he believed this lie revealed the chilling truth of his character. "I have the divorce papers right here," Sophia said, pulling the documents from her bag. She extended them toward him, her voice steady. "Just sign them, and you'll never have to see me again." Lucas didn't even look at the papers. In one swift motion, his hand closed around her throat, pulling her close. He leaned in until his face was mere inches from hers, and she could feel his warm breath and smell the familiar scent of his cologne. There was a time when this closeness would have made her heart flutter. Now, it only made her skin crawl. It was amazing how easy it was to walk away when all the love had drained away. "Sophia, have I been too soft with you?" Lucas's voice was thick with contempt. "Where exactly do you think you'll go without my protection?" She held his gaze without flinching. "That's really none of your concern anymore." "Still got that sharp tongue," he sneered. He released her with a dismissive shove, as if her defiance meant nothing. "Go make me dinner. I'm hungry." A wave of pain shot through Sophia's lower abdomen as she sank into the sofa, her skin turning clammy with an instant, cold sweat. Across the room, Emily slid her arm through Lucas's with practiced ease. "Don't let Sophia bother you," she murmured. "Her little scene was just a cry for your attention." Lucas pulled his tie free, his stern expression melting away as he focused on Emily. "How are you holding up?" he asked, his tone gentler. "I'm fine," she sighed, putting on a pitiful face. "It's just that the medicine is so awfully bitter." "It's bitter because it's strong. You need to keep taking it," he reminded her. "I picked up those candies you like. They're in my suitcase. Go get them yourself." "I know you always look out for me," Emily said, stretching up to press a light kiss to Lucas's cheek. "Consider that your reward." A look of quiet satisfaction crossed his features at the gesture. "I'm going up to shower," he said. "Go ahead," Emily said sweetly, fluttering a wave at him. She waited until Lucas's footsteps faded up the staircase before turning to the suitcase. They carried on as if Sophia weren't standing right there in the same room. Humming cheerfully, Emily unzipped the luggage. Alongside Lucas's neatly folded clothes sat a jar of shimmering candies and an elegant red velvet box that clearly held something valuable. Her eyes skipped over the candy, going straight to the velvet box. When she lifted the lid, a pink diamond necklace lay gleaming, its facets scattering rainbows in the light. "Oh, it's exquisite. I love it," she whispered, her eyes widening. "So the candy was just a decoy. This necklace is what he really wanted me to find." Draping the necklace against her collarbone, Emily turned to face Sophia, who had risen from the sofa. "Well, Sophia? Don't you think it suits me perfectly?" The pink diamond necklace around Emily's neck struck Sophia as oddly familiar. It came to her a moment later—she had coveted it last month while flipping through a magazine. Lucas had seen her fascination and promised to get it for her. The catch was its exclusivity—a single piece, sourced from Melaria, the country where Lucas had been attending to business. "That was for me," Sophia said, her voice calm. The man was disposable, but her possessions were not. She would reclaim what was rightfully hers. With a swift motion, Emily clasped the necklace. "Finders keepers," she said with a mocking grin. Sophia approached for a closer look. Though the necklace was more exquisite than its photograph, any desire for it had vanished. A wary look crossed Emily's face. "What is this about?" "To take what belongs to me, of course," Sophia said, stepping close and extending her hand. "It's time you returned it." Emily's hands instinctively flew to the diamond necklace at her throat. "Lucas will never stand for this, Sophia. You know what I mean to him." Sophia almost laughed. She knew well that Emily held a special place in Lucas's heart. But that was irrelevant. She was only claiming what was hers. "Give the bracelet back to me," Sophia said coldly. It was a token earned through true devotion, and she wouldn't let its significance be tarnished. Realizing Sophia only wanted the simple bracelet, Emily smiled condescendingly. 'Some shortsighted people have no taste,' she thought. Emily twisted the bracelet around her wrist. "I heard you went to Grace Abbey to beg for this good-luck charm," she said. "You are so hung up on him, aren't you?" The hypocrisy of her words was almost laughable. "Give it back," Sophia said, her voice like ice. Emily's eyes flickered to a point behind Sophia, and a sly smile touched her lips. She lowered her voice. "If you want it so badly, why don't you come and take it?" Sophia didn't stop to think. She grabbed Emily's wrist and tugged the bracelet free. The moment it was off, Emily's demeanor shifted completely. "Sophia, what are you doing?" she cried out, her voice suddenly loud and panicked. "Lucas gave this to me." Before Sophia could even turn around, a powerful hand seized her by the collar and hauled her backwards. The fabric dug sharply into her throat, stealing her breath. Stumbling to regain her footing, Sophia looked up to see Lucas. He was already cradling Emily. "Emily, are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern. Emily buried her face in his chest. "I'm fine," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Please, don't be angry with Sophia. She didn't mean it." Lucas's jaw tightened, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. He took a deep breath and fixed Sophia with an icy stare. "Apologize to Emily." Chapter 5 She Wants A Clean Break A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. She had fooled herself into thinking she was numb to Lucas's coldness. But his command still sent a fresh, sharp pain through her chest. She knew there was no point arguing with a man who had already chosen the other woman's side. "I won't apologize," Sophia said, her fist closing tightly around the bracelet. "What for?" Emily looked up at Lucas with well-practiced vulnerability. "I'm causing trouble here, Lucas. I should go." Lucas caught her wrist before she could take a second step. "You're staying right here." His attention snapped back to Sophia, his expression darkening. "Now, Sophia, apologize to Emily." The room blurred as tears filled Sophia's eyes, twisting his familiar face into a stranger's. She lifted the simple bracelet between them. "This is my stuff in the first place. Since when is taking back what was stolen a crime?" "Your stuff? Since when do you have anything of your own?" Lucas's lips curled in a sneer. "I've paid for every stitch of clothing on your back." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, forcing a bitter laugh from her lips. He knew perfectly well she earned her own living, yet he took every opportunity to demean her. "This bracelet came from Grace Abbey," she countered, her voice trembling. "You didn't pay a cent for it." Lucas's eyes dropped to the simple beads in her palm. "You think I care about some cheap bracelet?" he scoffed. Hot tears streamed down Sophia's face without warning. Wiping them away, Sophia made a silent vow—this would be the last time he reduced her to this. "Fine!" With one sharp motion, she snapped the bracelet's cord, sending beads skittering across the floor. Lucas watched the scattered beads come to rest, his hand curling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. He knew how much that bracelet meant to her, but the moment Emily wanted it, he didn't hesitate to take it off and hand it over. Lucas's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "Sophia!" "I want a divorce," Sophia said, her voice eerily calm. As she opened her hand, the last bead from the bracelet clattered onto the floor between them. "Let's just end this." The sound was small, but in the tense silence, it was deafening, echoing in Lucas's mind. He let out a short laugh, his gaze locked on her. "You think a threat will work? You should know better than that by now." 'This has to be a ploy,' he thought to himself. 'She loves me too much to go through with it. She has accepted her role as Emily's replacement from the beginning and has never once tried to leave. 'She would never have the strength to walk away from me.' "Go make us something to eat, and we can forget this ever happened." Lucas was certain he had thrown Sophia a lifeline. He waited, fully expecting her to be overcome with relief and scurry off to the kitchen. He'd been away on business, and days of unfamiliar rich food had left his stomach unsettled. What he craved was Sophia's cooking—simple, hearty food that tasted like home. It was a flavor he couldn't find anywhere else. "You can go eat your ass," Sophia shot back. She picked up her bag, her lips twisting into a scornful smile, and walked out without a backward glance. That smile grated on Lucas's nerves more than the insult itself. In his frustration, his eyes fell on the string of prayer beads lying scattered on the floor, and he gave them an impatient kick. 'So that's her game. She wants to challenge me? I'd like to see just how long her resolve will hold,' he thought, fuming. ***** Sophia sped away from Nightfall Estate, her phone buzzing relentlessly on the passenger seat. Lucas's name flashed across the screen again and again until she finally grabbed it and blocked his number for good. When she looked up at the road, she blinked, her vision blurring for a moment. She braced for the familiar sting of tears, but when her fingers touched her skin, it was dry. It was only then that she noticed the soft patter against the windshield. A fine drizzle had begun to fall, and a quiet melancholy settled over her, as gray as the sky. Up ahead, the flickering hazard lights of a sleek black car broke the rhythm of the rain. A man in a soaked suit, looking to be in his forties, stood beside it, waving frantically at passing traffic. Almost without conscious thought, Sophia found herself flipping on her turn signal and pulling over. She rolled down her window as the man rushed over. "Everything okay?" she asked. "It's my boss," the man said, his voice tight with panic. "He's having a heart attack. The ambulance is stuck in a multi-car accident. Please, can you take us to the hospital?" Sophia hesitated. Letting two strange men into her car, especially in this weather, felt dangerous. Every cautionary tale she'd ever heard flashed through her mind. Seeing her hesitation, the man added urgently, "I promise we're not dangerous. My boss is—" But Sophia was already moving, cutting the engine and stepping out into the downpour. "Just get him to my car, now," she called out as she rushed toward their vehicle. As she got closer, she recognized the distinctive emblem of the black Maybach. Working together, they carefully transferred the elderly man from the luxury sedan into Sophia's more modest car. The old man's lips were tinged with blue, and each ragged breath seemed like a struggle, clear signs of his critical condition. Sliding behind the wheel, Sophia started the car and pulled back onto the road, pushing through the veils of rain. In the backseat, the middle-aged man was a whirlwind of activity on his phone, coordinating with a hospital and alerting the family. Beyond the windows, the storm seemed to intensify, as if trying to match the urgency inside the car. After ensuring everything was in place, the man turned to Sophia with heartfelt appreciation. "You're the only one who stopped in this downpour. We can't thank you enough." A warm smile touched Sophia's lips. "Some things are just meant to be." ***** Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital entrance where medical staff stood ready. The team swiftly transferred the elderly man to a stretcher and hurried him inside for emergency care. Just as Sophia was about to drive away, she spotted a lone leather shoe in the backseat—the one the elderly man had been wearing. After a moment's hesitation, she parked properly and carried the shoe to the reception desk, logging it as a lost item. Sophia was just turning to leave when a group emerged from the hospital's main entrance. At the front of the group was a man whose height and posture commanded attention. He turned his sharp gaze on her, and the intensity in his eyes was so commanding that it felt like a physical pressure. 'That frown means trouble,' Sophia thought. She averted her gaze and continued walking, brushing past the group without a second look. It wasn't until she was back in the driver's seat that she felt the chill of her wet clothes clinging to her skin. As she dried her hair with a towel from the backseat, a notification popped up on her phone while she was opening the navigation app. It was a post from Emily: [Nothing says 'forever' like a soft-boiled egg made with love! My ultimate comfort food.] The post featured two photos—one showed a soft-boiled egg with a ketchup heart, and the other captured a tall man's back as he stood at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Sophia couldn't help but compare. When she was with Lucas, he had acted like even pouring her a glass of water was a significant concession. Cooking a meal was utterly out of the question. The fact that he was now cooking for Emily spoke volumes about where his true affections lay. She closed the page and entered her apartment address into the navigation system before driving out of the parking lot. As she watched the heavy rain outside, a single decisive thought crystallized in her mind—this marriage was over. Chapter 6 Return The Trash To The Dumpster That evening, a text came through from Annabelle Quinn, Sophia's best friend since college, insisting they go out to a lounge. The old Sophia would have declined immediately, conditioned to obey Lucas's rule about her not going out. But now that Sophia was divorcing him, his opinions held no weight. ***** The moment Sophia stepped out of the car, she saw Annabelle waiting by the entrance. "Hope you haven't been waiting long," she said as she approached. "Just got here," Annabelle grinned, looping her arm through Sophia's. "So, what's the special occasion? Did you finally get a night off from your sweetheart?" Sophia struggled to find the words, but she couldn't keep it from her best friend. "I'm getting a divorce," she finally said. "Let me guess," Annabelle said, not one to mince words in front of her best friend. "This is about Emily being back, isn't it?" "It's not just that," Sophia admitted, her voice quiet. It just took seeing the difference for herself to truly see how little her three years of effort had meant. Annabelle threw a supportive arm around Sophia's shoulders. "You should have woken up to this a long time ago." For three years, she had watched Sophia lose herself in a hollow relationship, and it killed Annabelle to see her friend throw everything away for a man who never appreciated her. "Better late than never," Sophia offered with a weak smile. "Damn right it is," Annabelle declared. "Tonight, I'm getting us the best male models in town. You deserve some real attention." They ascended into the pulsating heart of the club, pushing through the glittering crowd toward the exclusive booth Annabelle had booked. As they moved past the entrance to a private booth, a burst of laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway. Amid the noise, Sophia's own name caught her sharp ear. "Got to hand it to Lucas. The minute Emily was back, he moved her right in. Word is, he showed Sophia the door." "Well, she had it coming. Play the simp, and you lose it all. Seriously though, that night in the booth with all the blood? I truly thought a tragedy had occurred, but it was probably just her period." "You're thinking about that? Man, have you had a thing for Sophia all along?" "Who'd pine after some nobody from a backwater? Only Lucas, with his unique preferences, would stick around for three years." "Guess the novelty wore off. Time for a change." Standing in the hallway, Sophia felt a cold stillness settle behind her eyes. The voices clicked into place—Lucas's oldest friends. They had been there that night, spectators to her most shameful moment. Annabelle's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind." But as she moved toward the door, Sophia stopped her with a gentle hand. "This is my battle to fight," Sophia said firmly. With that, Sophia pushed the door open and swept into the room. She settled gracefully onto the sofa, joining their conversation with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you're talking about unique preferences, I top him," she began, her voice deceptively light, "I recycled what Emily threw away. But it looks like I did everyone a favor by returning the trash to the dumpster where it belongs." A stunned silence fell over the room. Every face on the circular sofa stared at her in horrified fascination. Unbeknownst to Sophia, two figures had entered the room behind her during her speech. The guests' eyes darted nervously between Sophia and the newcomers, the air thickening with tension. There stood Lucas and Emily, their expressions dark as storm clouds. Their presence made Sophia turn. Her eyes instantly met the cold, dark stare of Lucas. But she didn't back down. A defiant shrug lifted her shoulders. "Look what the cat dragged in. My trash husband." Emily's eyes instantly glistened with tears. "Sophia, ignore them," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "It's all lies. Lucas and I are just friends." As if to prove her point, she clutched Lucas's arm. "Tell her, Lucas. Make her understand there's nothing going on between us." Sophia's gaze dropped to the hand clinging to Lucas's arm, and a faint, derisive smile touched her mouth. 'Just friends? Did she really expect anyone to believe that?' she thought bitterly. Lucas detached himself from Emily's grip and closed the distance between him and Sophia. The motion broke the tension, stirring his friends into action. "Hey, Lucas, take it easy," one of them said, stepping forward. "She's just reacting to our stupid jokes." "Come on, Sophia, just say you're sorry to Lucas," another one urged. "You know he'll forgive you." The suggestion made Sophia want to laugh bitterly. 'Is this really how they see me? As some lovesick fool who'd come crawling back at the first sign of forgiveness?' she thought. It explained everything—why, for three years, they had shown her phony respect as Lucas's wife while mocking her devotion in private. She had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn't met Lucas seven years ago, if that fateful incident hadn't tied her to him, she would have moved on with her life long ago. "Are you quite done?" Lucas's voice cut through her thoughts as he reached for her arm. She shifted her weight gracefully, letting his hand close on empty air. The rejected gesture hung between them for a beat too long before he withdrew, his features tightening with displeasure. Turning to Emily, who was now dabbing at her eyes, Sophia arched a brow. "There's no need for the waterworks. You're making it look like I'm the one being cruel here." "Sophia, I've treated you like my elder sister. I—" Emily began, trying to defend herself. "Don't," Sophia interrupted, her voice cool. "We arrived minutes apart, and you were first. Let's skip the emotional act." Emily's face turned from pale to deep red as she clenched her jaw in fury. 'Since when has Sophia found this kind of nerve? She used to shrink into silence whenever Lucas was near,' she thought. Despite her three-year absence from the city, Emily had ensured she received every scrap of information about Sophia's life. She knew all about Sophia's pathetic attempts to please Lucas, and she knew exactly how little he cared for his wife. She even knew they kept separate bedrooms, and that on the occasional night Lucas spent with Sophia, he always sent her back to her own room afterward. She knew that to Lucas, Sophia was just a body—convenient, disposable, and utterly unimportant. With a dark expression, Lucas grabbed Sophia's wrist and began pulling her toward the exit. Sophia's answer was a sharp, stinging slap across his cheek. The sound cracked through the air, and a dead silence fell over the room. All eyes were fixed on Sophia in pure shock. Everyone was wondering if she had lost her mind to dare something like that. Lucas slowly worked his jaw, the look in his eyes so dark that it promised retribution. When Sophia resisted, Lucas didn't hesitate. He swept her up onto his shoulder and carried her out of the room. The sight made Emily's heart clench. She'd never seen Lucas be so patient with anyone. Before she knew it, her hand was on his arm. "Lucas..." He didn't turn his head, but some of the tension left his expression. "I'm taking her home," he said firmly. "The driver will return for you when you're ready." Emily could only watch as Lucas walked away with Sophia. She had no right to stop him, but it stung—this was the first time he'd ever left her for another woman, especially one who meant nothing. Her hands tightened at her sides. 'I gave you a chance to walk away quietly, Sophia. You brought this on yourself,' she thought. Sophia's protests echoed down the hallway as she struggled against Lucas's hold. Unsure what was happening between the couple, Annabelle turned away, pretending she hadn't noticed them. Lucas carried Sophia into the elevator and stepped out briskly when it reached the basement level. As the car door opened, Lucas tossed Sophia into the back seat. Struggling upright, she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea from the prolonged time she'd spent upside down. She opened her mouth to curse, but the words died on her lips as the tinted window of a nearby Maybach began to descend. In the shadowy interior, the man's profile was sharp and forbidding. His lips were set in a firm line, and he sat with the imposing stillness of an iceberg, his presence pushing others away. Sensing her gaze, he glanced over, and their eyes locked. Without a word, Sophia averted her gaze and hid her face behind a veil of tangled hair. Chapter 7 Not Her Home Anymore Lucas's black Bentley pulled out of the underground parking garage, but Sophia was still lost in thought about those intense eyes. There was something familiar about them, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen them before. Lucas's voice broke the silence. "Did you follow me here? What are you so concerned about?" "What?" Sophia asked, snapping back to reality. Keeping his eyes on the road, Lucas tried to explain. "You know how my friends are—they never think before they speak. Don't take their words seriously. There's nothing going on between Emily and me." 'If there's really nothing between them, why was he being so protective? He only rushed me out because he was worried I might cause a scene and embarrass Emily,' Sophia thought. "Sure," Sophia said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You and Emily are completely innocent." "I'm trying to explain myself here," Lucas said, his patience wearing thin. "Do you have to be so sarcastic?" Her ungrateful attitude was beginning to irritate him. He remembered how she used to soften at the slightest reassurance. Now, it seemed her patience had worn thin. "Understood," Sophia said, her tone flat. "Is that all?" "I've been clear from the beginning—you are my wife, and that won't change. But if you want this marriage to work, you need to drop your little tricks. I won't play these games." Sophia stayed quiet, struck by his assumption that her mention of divorce was merely a plea for attention. Her silence tightened the air between them. "Don't become someone I resent, Sophia," he said with a frown, his voice low. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips as she turned toward the window, shutting him out completely. Sensing he had pushed too far, Lucas eased his tone. "I had your things moved back to our room. If you want to stay with me, just say so. There's no need for all this." Sophia was left speechless. ***** As the car came to a stop in the courtyard of Nightfall Estate, Sophia stepped out. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the cherry blossom grove in the garden. The sight sent a sharp pang through her chest. She forced her gaze away and continued into the villa. Inside, the decor had been completely redone. The new style, with its unmistakable resemblance to the Evans residence, clearly revealed who had overseen the renovations. She moved through rooms that felt entirely alien to her now, but she kept her thoughts to herself since this was no longer her home. Wendy looked surprised when she saw Sophia. "Mrs. Westwood, you've returned. Have you had your supper?" Sinking into the plush pink sofa, Sophia answered quietly, "Yes, thank you." Wendy offered a tight smile before retreating to her quarters to make a hurried phone call to Helen, reporting the unexpected arrival. Helen had never approved of Sophia, whom she saw as a plain nobody not good enough for her son. The infertility diagnosis hardened Helen's resolve to rush the divorce so Lucas could marry someone worthy of giving her grandchildren. The news of Sophia's sudden return after her dramatic departure kept Helen tossing and turning all night. Lucas had been certain Sophia would confront him about the complete makeover of their home. He stood ready to smooth things over, but she walked through the rooms without comment, her silence leaving him more unsettled than any argument would have. "If the decor isn't to your taste..." Lucas moved to sit beside her, his arms beginning to encircle her. Sophia reached for a throw pillow, tucking it between them as she shifted away from his embrace. The gentle rejection stung, though Lucas reassured himself that this was the same woman who had always adored him. "It's true. I prefer my original choices," she said calmly. "Can you have everything returned to how it was?" The warm, elegant furnishings had vanished, replaced by the overwhelming pinks that Emily favored—a transformation that had turned their home into something resembling a kitschy boutique hotel. Lucas shifted uncomfortably. "Let's not make a big deal out of it. You'll get used to the way things are around here." A faint, knowing smile curved on Sophia's lips as she met his gaze. That smile never failed to get under his skin. "Try to see it from her perspective, Sophia," he said, his voice tightening. "After everything she's been through these past three years, all Emily wants is to feel like she belongs." A wave of exhaustion washed over her. It was like talking to a brick wall. "I know," she said flatly. "You have your entire family backing you up," Lucas shot back, his patience clearly wearing thin. "But Emily? She has nobody else. Is it really so hard for you to be a little more compassionate?" "Funny," Sophia replied, her tone icy. "I was under the impression my adoptive parents were still very much alive." Besides, the Evans family had never once ceased to think about Emily throughout those three years. They made trip after trip to Felarica to celebrate Emily's birthdays and attend her parties. They even missed Sophia's wedding to Lucas because of her. A single social media post from Emily, complaining of her loneliness in Felarica, was all it took for them to drop everything and fly to her side. "Now that you've made it out of that dead-end town, you should be the last person to let Emily sink into it," he shot back. As Sophia looked at him, the last glimmer of hope in her eyes vanished. She knew well enough to stop mentioning divorce. To Lucas, it was just another act—proof that she was the same desperate woman the world thought her to be. If she couldn't get through to Lucas, she was going to find another path. Now, with her infertility diagnosis, she knew Helen would be far more impatient to act on this news. Sophia retreated to the master bedroom. Her possessions had claimed their space, with her clothes occupying half of the vast closet. A sense of normalcy had finally settled between her and Lucas, the kind that belongs to a husband and wife. But it was a fragile peace, already beginning to fray. Lucas was still in the living room when Emily returned. The air around her carried the sharp tang of liquor. Her face was deeply flushed, and she swayed slightly as she walked. He was at her side in an instant, his hand gently steadying her. "You've had far too much to drink," he murmured, his brow furrowed with worry. "This isn't good for you. I don't want to see you like this again." Emily turned into him, her arms finding their way around his neck. "I couldn't help it," she whispered, her voice thick with drink and emotion. "It's the only thing that dulls the ache." Sensing her legs might give way, he simply gathered her into his arms. "Wendy," he said to the housekeeper who had appeared, heading for the stairs. "Would you bring up some electrolyte water for Emily?" "Understood," Wendy replied. Playing the part of the drunken mess, Emily clung to Lucas and sobbed into his chest. "I've always regretted it," she cried. "Letting my pride push you away was the biggest mistake of my life." A long-buried tenderness tugged at Lucas's heart. "Let's try again, Lucas. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice," she whispered, tilting her face up to his. Just as their lips were about to meet, the master bedroom door swung open, and the sudden movement startled the couple in the hallway. Sophia stood in the doorway in her pajamas, watching them with a completely expressionless face. Lucas instantly snapped back to reality, and a rare look of panic flashed across his handsome face. "Sophie, Emily is drunk," he said quickly. "I'm just taking her back to her room." Still draped around him, Emily met Sophia's eyes over Lucas's shoulder. The tears were gone, replaced by a cool, triumphant smirk that held no trace of intoxication. Sophia's mouth curved into a humorless smile as she replied, "Yes, and you're drunk too." Without another word, she stepped back and slammed the door, the turn of the lock echoing decisively behind her. The idea of sleeping next to Lucas made her blood boil. She honestly didn't trust herself to lie beside him all night without her rage getting the better of her. Chapter 8 Divorce Settlement The next morning, as Sophia left her room, the guest room door across the hall opened at the exact same time. Lucas was stepping out, finishing with his tie. He glanced up and went completely still, finding Sophia already watching him from their bedroom doorway. Surprise flashed across his face, and he started with an explanation. "She was a mess last night," he said, his voice low. "I couldn't just leave her." Sophia's eyes dropped to the bright red smudge on his collar. Her eyes were filled with silent scorn as she thought about how filthy it was. She said with icy calm, "Relax, I know perfectly well that nothing would ever happen between you two, even when you don't have a stitch of clothing on." Her words cut off whatever excuse Lucas was about to offer. Anger darkened his features. "Think what you want," he snapped. "My feelings for her are purely brotherly." Sophia's eyes fell to the lipstick stain on his collar again. "So, how does it feel to be so close to your 'sister'?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Following her line of sight, Lucas saw the evidence, and a shadow of guilt crossed his face. "It was an accident," he insisted, his voice tight. "Don't make it sound so sordid." "So filthy," she murmured, shaking her head. As he drew a sharp breath to retaliate, she added with a cold smile, "I mean your shirt." He stared at her, his expression turning to stone. She merely offered a careless shrug and walked away, leaving him fuming in the hallway. Downstairs, Sophia was halfway through her breakfast when her phone vibrated on the table. A quick glance at the screen confirmed it was Helen calling. Just then, Wendy appeared with two additional breakfast plates. Sophia swiped to answer the call, a deliberate smile directed at Wendy. "You're calling so early, Mrs. Westwood." The pointed smile made Wendy's blood run cold, and at the mention of Mrs. Westwood, she was reminded of betraying Sophia by reporting to Helen last night. Stricken with guilt, she almost fumbled the tray. She dropped the plates onto the table and hastily retreated to the safety of the kitchen. A faint, cold smile touched Sophia's lips as Helen's venomous voice filled her ear. "Utterly devoid of manners," Helen sneered. "What else can you expect from someone with such a common background?" Sophia's eyes turned to ice. "Trace any lineage back three generations, Mrs. Westwood, and you'll find humble roots. It's distasteful to scorn your own origins." Helen found herself at a loss for words. Though Lucas's parents both had city roots, his grandparents' generation had all struggled in a backwater. Helen's parents had even lived in a cowshed. So in that regard, Helen was no better than Sophia. "That sharp tongue of yours is exactly why people can't stand you," Helen shot back. Sophia rolled her eyes in contempt. Biting back her anger, Helen forced a calmer tone. "We need to meet. There's a document for you to sign." "What kind of document?" "It'll be clear when you get here." Letting the matter drop, Sophia hung up. As she did, she saw Lucas descending the staircase. He had showered and changed, his hair perfectly styled like a model from the pages of a magazine. She had to admit, he was pleasing to look at. 'With those looks, he certainly has the assets for a career as a gigolo,' Sophia thought wryly. A smug feeling warmed Lucas as her eyes stayed on him. He drew out the chair next to hers and sat down. "Paliston Fashion Week is just around the corner," he offered. "It'll be a good chance for us to get away." In three years of marriage, it was the first time he had ever proposed such a thing. Sophia acknowledged him with a quiet hum, but she felt no spark of happiness or expectation. She saw the offer for what it was—a peace offering, born of the guilt he carried after his betrayal. Her ride showed up shortly after breakfast. Picking up her bag, Sophia walked out the door.
Chapter 1 His First Love Returned Sophia Evans could feel her world beginning to crack the moment she heard the news—the woman her husband, Lucas Westwood, had never gotten over was back. When Sophia arrived at the hotel's VIP suite with a gift, she found Lucas's first love—Emily Evans—being humiliated by his childhood friends. "Lick the wine off my shoe, Emily. I'll give you thirty thousand dollars," one of them said. Emily was forced to kneel on the floor, tears in her defiant eyes as she stared shamefully at Lucas. Lucas watched with a dark expression, saying nothing as he held his temper in check. Sophia halted mid-step, struck by the painful familiarity of the scene. Three years ago, when she had first been welcomed into the Evans family, these same privileged young men had tormented her in exactly the same way to gain Emily's favor. But back then, Lucas hadn't worn this expression of utter heartbreak. "There you are," Lucas said as soon as he spotted Sophia, his arm sliding around her waist in a show of intimacy. Only Sophia could feel the desperate pressure of his grip—a silent testament to the pain he was trying to conceal. Lucas's childhood friends had reserved the entire venue for his birthday celebration. But Sophia had never expected Emily to show up here. Everyone knew Lucas had married Sophia just to spite Emily. Three years ago, Emily's identity as a fake heiress was exposed. She broke up with Lucas then and there and left the Evans family behind. Lucas pursued her to the airport, boarded her departing flight, and forced the plane that had already taken off to turn back. Right there on that plane, he proposed to Emily. To his complete surprise, Emily refused without hesitation, declaring that the arranged marriage should be honored by the Evans family's true heiress. Humiliated and acting out of spite, Lucas married Sophia instead. For three years, Sophia had lived as Emily's stand-in. Everyone whispered that if Emily ever returned, Lucas would discard Sophia without a second thought. Sophia had once believed that too, but something had shifted in these past six months—Lucas seemed to be genuinely falling for her. He made grand declarations of love in the press, showered her with luxury homes and cars, and even replaced the cherry tree he'd planted for Emily with a garden full of red roses. In their most tender moments, he'd whisper against her ear, "Let's have a baby, Sophie. I hope they have your smile." Sophia's hand drifted absently to her stomach as she clutched the gift box a little tighter. Inside was a positive pregnancy test—meant to be Lucas's birthday surprise. But now, the timing of the gift felt all wrong. "You still think you're the Evans family princess, Emily? Lucas only has eyes for Sophia now. Why not be with me? A pretty thing like you deserves to be treated right," one of Lucas's friends, Ryan Shaw, sneered. He dragged Emily onto his lap, his hands already roaming over her. "Get your hands off me!" Emily cried, fighting against Ryan's grip as humiliation burned through her. Her resistance only fueled Ryan's excitement. In one swift motion, he shoved her down onto the couch, his powerful body trapping hers. Horrified that Ryan would assault Emily right in front of Lucas, Sophia jumped up to stop him, only to be shoved aside as Lucas already surged into action. As she stumbled, her hands instinctively reached for Lucas's arm, but he brutally shook her off. She hit the floor hard, a jolt of sharp pain shooting from her tailbone straight to her womb. Through the pain-induced haze, she saw Lucas grab Ryan by the collar, drag him off Emily, and pummel his face with brutal, unforgiving fists. "You've overstepped, Ryan. Emily is mine. Even if I discard her, she'll never be yours to touch," Lucas snapped. His words hung in the air, and the entire room fell silent as if frozen in time. Sophia stared at Lucas in disbelief, wondering where she stood in his life now that he had openly claimed Emily as his woman. All eyes in the room were drawn to the scene. Some watched with malicious delight, while others were simply captivated by the unfolding drama. Doubled over in pain, Sophia felt a warm wetness spreading beneath her. Her face paled as a cold dread gripped her heart. "Honey, my stomach hurts," she turned to Lucas instinctively. "Please, take me to the hospital." Without even glancing her way, Lucas removed his jacket and gently placed it around Emily's shoulders. Nestling into his embrace, Emily whispered, her voice trembling, "Lucas, I'm scared. Please take me away from here." "Don't worry," he murmured, holding her close. "I won't let anyone hurt you." Sweeping Emily into his arms, Lucas carried her out of the room, completely ignoring Sophia's pain-racked form shuddering on the floor. Perched comfortably on his shoulder, Emily gazed down at Sophia's crumpled form on the floor, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. The spectators murmured among themselves, still savoring the drama they'd just witnessed. "Emily's definitely the one for Lucas. He hasn't taken his eyes off her all night." "The way Lucas looks at her... I thought it was hatred, but it's clearly something else entirely." "Who could resist someone like her? I certainly wouldn't be able to stay angry." "Poor Sophia. She was just a side character in their love story." At the mention of Sophia's name, the crowd remembered her presence simultaneously, their attention shifting to where she sat. Sophia was in terrible pain and covered in a cold sweat until someone finally noticed her condition and quickly helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?" the guy asked. She gripped his arm tightly as the room spun around her. "Please take me to the hospital. My stomach hurts terribly," she pleaded. Then everything went dark as she fainted. Through the haze of semi-consciousness, distant screams about blood echoed in her ears. When Sophia regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital room. The sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the air as she lay alone in the quiet ward. A nurse tending to her bandages noticed her awakening. "You're awake," she said softly. Sophia's voice came out weak and fearful. "My baby... Is my baby alright?" "Your baby is fine," the nurse reassured her. "But you'll need to take special care. These first few months are particularly delicate in your condition." Relief washed over Sophia as grateful tears fell. "Thank you," she whispered, overwhelmed that her child was safe. Through the emotional turmoil, Sophia's first thought was to share the news with Lucas immediately. Wiping her tears, she reached for her phone and dialed his number. The phone rang several times before Lucas finally picked up. His voice was edged with impatience as he answered, "Not coming home tonight. Don't wait—" "Lucas, my hair's caught in this zipper," Emily's voice interrupted, floating through the line. "Could you give me a hand?" Sophia's knuckles went white around her phone. "Be right there," he said. The call ended before Sophia could form a response. Overnight, things between her and Lucas had reverted to how they were six months ago. Back then, he'd been all cold shoulders and sharp tones. Even in their most intimate moments, he treated her like just another need to be met. To him, she might as well have been a stranger—or worse, just a convenient body. So when he finally let his guard down, she'd been so grateful for the warmth that she fell harder than she ever meant to. She thought her years of longing had finally paid off. But reality slapped her senseless when Lucas chose Emily's safety over their own child's life. After being discharged from the hospital, Sophia caught a taxi home. Midway through the ride, her phone buzzed with a Twitter alert. It was a tweet from Emily: [You told me you'd hold my hand and never let go—not for the rest of our lives.] The attached photo showed Emily dressed like a princess, complete with a tiny crown, her hand locked tightly with a larger, elegant hand. Around the wrist was a bracelet made of prayer beads—the very one Sophia had prayed for in a church last year, when Lucas was burning up with fever. That day, he squeezed her hand and whispered a promise that he would never leave her side. Chapter 2 Ask Him For A Divorce The taxi stopped outside the Nightfall Estate, where Sophia paid the fare and got out of the vehicle. She was just heading inside when a truck carrying young cherry trees rumbled up the drive and stopped near the garden. Workers carefully unloaded the cherry trees and settled them into the prepared holes. Where a vibrant sea of red roses had bloomed just yesterday, now only upturned earth remained, with the plants piled carelessly to the side. A dull ache spread through Sophia's chest as she gazed at the rose petals strewn like crimson tears across the soil. The familiar purr of a luxury car engine approached from behind. Turning around, Sophia saw Lucas step out of the car. He stood tall and straight, radiating a natural air of calm elegance. "Honey..." Sophia began, but the words died on her lips as he leaned back into the car. With gentle care, he helped a woman step out—it was Emily, who looked radiant in an exquisite designer ensemble that made her complexion glow. Only when Emily was steady did Lucas's gaze finally meet Sophia's, those usually warm eyes now regarding her with detached indifference. "Did you need something?" he asked, his tone flat. The cold unfamiliarity in his look struck Sophia's heart like a physical blow. "Why are you tearing out the roses when they were growing so well?" she asked, desperate for his explanation. Those roses had been his special way of confessing his feelings to her. Lucas barely glanced at the destroyed garden. "Emily's not feeling well. She'll be staying with us for a bit." "What does that have to do with the roses?" she pressed. "She's allergic to the pollen," he said curtly, already turning to guide Emily inside. Sophia stood rooted to the spot, her heart breaking. Emily's delicate voice carried through the air. "Lucas, Sophia seems upset. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have complained about the roses." "She doesn't matter to me," Lucas reassured her. "But I worry she'll resent me. Really, I can manage with allergy medication," Emily offered, her voice dripping with false concern. "Medication always has side effects. Don't suggest things that worry me," he replied. Sophia stood motionless as she watched their figures grow smaller in the distance. A silent tear traced its way down her cheek while overwhelming sorrow washed over her. 'I don't matter to him... Yeah, right,' Sophia murmured with bitter irony, the truth of the words settling like a weight in her heart. He hadn't even asked about her absence last night, and now he had ordered her favorite roses to be torn out. The message was clear—she meant less to him than the slightest thought of Emily. For three years, she had devoted herself to him, offering unwavering love and comfort through difficult times. She had believed her constant warmth could thaw even the coldest heart, but Emily's reappearance had erased everything in an instant. She wondered what their intimacy these past six months had truly meant, and what role she had actually played in his life. A sudden twinge in her lower abdomen made her catch her breath. Pale and unsteady, she turned toward the villa. As Sophia stepped into the living room, she saw Emily nestled against Lucas on the sofa, watching with affectionate amusement as he peeled an orange for her. Lucas gently picked away every bit of white pith from the orange segments before arranging them on a plate for Emily. "For you," he said with a soft smile. "Enjoy, my little foodie." As Emily took the plate, she noticed Sophia entering the room. A triumphant smile graced her lips as she called out, "Sophia, would you like some? Lucas peeled these himself. Something you've never experienced, I'm sure." Sophia's gaze fell upon the perfectly prepared orange segments, and she felt a sudden sting behind her eyes. The painful truth was that in all their time together, Lucas had never once peeled an orange for her. She had always been the one serving him. The realization struck her with perfect clarity—Lucas knew well how to be thoughtful, but he simply reserved his kindness for Emily. Sophia felt her heart breaking into pieces as she finally understood how painful comparison could be. "She's perfectly capable of peeling her own fruit," Lucas said dismissively, barely glancing at Sophia. Then he noticed her pale complexion and added, "Are you alright? You look terribly pale." Sophia's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she debated telling Lucas her secret pregnancy. A fragile hope whispered within her—that this truth might finally soften his heart toward her. "I..." Her voice faltered, the words dying on her lips. "If you're ill, see a doctor. This pathetic act is getting tiresome," Lucas said, impatience flashing across his handsome features. He was annoyed by her wounded expression, which seemed to suggest she was the victim of some terrible injustice. Sophia swallowed her unspoken words, her gaze lingering on the man who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. "I'm fine," she murmured. "I'll just go to my room." As she turned toward the staircase, Lucas felt a surge of irritation. 'I must've been too lenient with her, and now she dared to show me attitude,' he thought, fuming. Sophia had only climbed a few steps when the housekeeper, Wendy, appeared descending the stairs with servants carrying boxes. The items looked familiar, but it was the sight of her stuffed doll in Wendy's arms that made Sophia realize everything they carried was hers. In a swift motion, she stepped forward and snatched the doll. Her voice turned icy as she asked, "Wendy, care to explain this?" "Mr. Westwood's orders," Wendy said quietly. "You're to move to the storage room downstairs." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, leaving her mind reeling. She turned to Lucas, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious." They'd already maintained separate bedrooms, but she never imagined that she'd be banished to a storage room instead of even being offered the guest suite after Emily's return. For a fleeting moment under her gaze, Lucas felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly hardened into resolve. "Emily needs the sunroom for her health," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your room gets the best light. It's better for her recovery." The absurdity of it all drew a bitter laugh from Sophia's lips. She thought his previous cruelty—shoving her while pregnant and replacing her roses with Emily's cherry trees—had been the worst it could get. But this new humiliation surpassed even that. All Lucas had done since Emily's return yesterday was talk about her. In just one day, she had turned Sophia's whole life upside down. Sophia expected to feel rage, but instead found only a hollow emptiness settling in her chest. 'Look at him, Sophia,' Sophia thought bitterly. 'This is the man you gave your heart and soul to. Was any of it worth it?' "If you're so worried about her comfort, why not just move her into your room? The master suite gets the best light anyway," Sophia shot back. Lucas responded sharply, "Sophia, you need to watch your tone." Emily's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I know you don't want me here, Sophia. I'll go. Please don't fight with Lucas over me." Sophia saw right through Emily's act. A humorless laugh escaped her as she spat, "You're not going anywhere. I am." Tightening her grip on the stuffed doll, she turned and headed for the door. "Don't you dare, Sophia." Lucas rose to his feet, his voice cutting through the room. "Walk out that door now, and don't expect to ever come back." Sophia's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "I'll make sure you receive the divorce papers," she said, her voice cold and steady. "See that you sign them." "You're asking me for a divorce?" Lucas's voice was low, thick with barely restrained fury. He added, his tone edged with contempt, "Have you forgotten who gave you this life, Sophia? The luxury, the status—all of it came from me. Without my name, you're just that wide-eyed girl fresh off that forgotten little town. You don't get to leave." Chapter 3 The Replaced Medical Result Sophia didn't need to look back to know the condescending smirk that was surely on Lucas's face. She knew he had always despised her. His proposal three years ago had been motivated only by a desire to fulfill the marriage agreement between their families and to exact revenge on Emily. She had been naive enough to believe his empty promises, offering him her genuine love when he saw her as nothing more than a pawn. To him, she would always be a leech, clinging to his wealth and name for survival. But now, she had reached her limit, and she no longer wanted him in her life. Sophia walked out without a backward glance. As she stepped through the gateway, the sound of shattering porcelain echoed behind her, but she no longer cared. Lucas stood amid the shattered remains, fingers pressed to his temples. His face was a mask of simmering anger. He dismissed the mention of divorce as just another one of her calculated moves, a transparent attempt to get his attention by pulling away. Emily watched him hesitantly. "Maybe I shouldn't be staying here, Lucas. Sophia seemed really upset." "It's nothing," Lucas replied evenly. Seeing how the mention of divorce had affected him, she suggested softly, "You could go after her. Women usually respond well to a little reassurance." "I don't have time for that," Lucas said, turning toward the staircase. With a business trip looming, his mind was elsewhere. 'Let her make a scene if she wants to,' he thought. 'She'll cool off and come crawling back. She always does.' ***** Sophia's home was a beautiful 3,200-square-foot apartment with an open-concept layout and sleek modern decor—all paid for with her own earnings. In her study, she printed the divorce papers and a letter resigning from her position. With a steady hand, she signed both, and then summoned a courier to deliver them directly to the Westwood Group. When she married Lucas three years ago, Sophia had joined his company, hoping to build a genuine connection with him. She started at the very bottom as an assistant and gradually earned her way up to department manager. She had wanted nothing more than to be close to him—in their home and at work. But in the end, her efforts were met with cold indifference. Gazing downward, Sophia softly cradled her stomach. "It's just us now, little one," she whispered. The courier arrived at Westwood headquarters while Lucas was away. His chief executive assistant, Kevin Chapman, received the delivery and signed. The moment Kevin saw the contents, he reached for the phone, dialing Lucas's number in haste. "Mr. Westwood, your wife has sent divorce documents." "Burn it all." On the other side of the ocean, Lucas loosened his tie as an unexpected wave of irritation came over him. "But Mrs. Westwood has even submitted her resignation letter..." Kevin replied, his tone hesitant. "She can't survive without this family." The blue flame from Lucas's lighter highlighted the grim set of his features. "Let her be. She'll come crawling back once reality sets in." Meanwhile, Sophia remained completely unaware of his words. Her morning had begun with a call from her mother-in-law, Helen Westwood. "Where are you? Return at once," Helen commanded in her typically imperious manner, leaving no room for discussion. Complying, Sophia drove back to the estate. No sooner had she stepped inside than a velvet box came hurling toward her head, which she narrowly avoided by stepping aside. Helen's shrill voice pierced the air. "How dare you avoid that? You've got some nerve." Sophia's gaze fell upon the velvet box at her feet, and suddenly, she understood why it seemed familiar. She remembered purchasing that exact box to store her pregnancy test results. On Lucas's birthday, she had intended to present it to him as a gift, but he had accidentally pushed her before she could give it to him, resulting in her hospitalization. Her heart leaped as she turned to face Helen's livid expression. 'Could she know about the pregnancy? But something about her reaction seems strange,' she wondered. For three years, Helen had made no secret of her disapproval of Sophia, someone raised in a small town. Yet every time Sophia visited the Westwood residence with Lucas, Helen would consistently nag Sophia about starting a family soon. If Helen knew Sophia was pregnant, she was supposed to be absolutely delighted instead of reacting like this. Helen clutched a medical report, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared down Sophia. "For three years, I've watched your marriage to Lucas, wondering why you never conceived. Now I understand—he married a barren woman. "If you hadn't left this at the hotel and Lucas's friend hadn't been kind enough to deliver it, I'd still be in the dark about your condition." Heart pounding with shock, Sophia ignored Helen's murderous gaze and snatched the document from her hand. The clinical report lay cold and pale in the morning light. There was her name, clearly printed, alongside the devastating diagnosis: "permanent infertility." 'Permanent infertility? But that's impossible. I'm pregnant. Someone must have switched my test results. But who would do such a thing?' Sophia wondered. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "This isn't my..." Emily, who had remained silent until now, suddenly interrupted, "Sophia, the Westwood lineage has been passed down through a single heir for ten generations. Are you trying to ensure Lucas dies without an heir? To extinguish the family line completely?" "How utterly heartless!" Helen exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Sophia as her anger reached its peak. "We've welcomed you with open arms since you married into this family. Yet you've been hiding this from us? To think you'd let our family line die out—it's truly despicable!" she added. Sophia didn't even attempt to explain herself. If they wanted to believe she was barren, so be it—it would only simplify the divorce proceedings. "I only received the results two days ago. I hadn't found the right moment to share the news," Sophia replied, her voice calm. "This wasn't about finding the right moment. You did this intentionally," Helen retorted, her face contorted with rage. "And you planned to give this to Lucas as a gift? What kind of twisted mind would conceive such a thing?" Sophia maintained her silence. Helen took a measured breath, forcing her anger down. "If you can't conceive naturally, I won't hold it against you. I've spoken with Emily, and she's agreed to donate her eggs so you and Lucas can pursue in vitro fertilization." Sophia stared in disbelief at the unexpected turn. "Could you repeat that?" She believed she had misheard because the suggestion was both preposterous and deeply offensive. "If you can't conceive, that's your problem. Emily is being extraordinarily generous by offering her eggs. The least you could do is show some appreciation instead of this ingratitude," Helen sneered. A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. "Perhaps you'd like to accept this generous offer yourself?" "How dare you speak to me like that!" Helen's eyes flashed with fury. "Sophia, you shouldn't speak to Mrs. Westwood that way. She was suggesting that for your sake," Emily said in a honeyed tone, reaching for the glass. As she moved, she made certain to display the prayer beads circling her delicate wrist. Sophia's breath caught—she would recognize the bracelet anywhere. That was the very ones she had sacrificed so much to obtain while praying for Lucas's recovery. It felt like a personal insult, seeing the bracelet that symbolized her love for Lucas now clasped around Emily's wrist. "For my sake?" Sophia repeated, the words tasting bitter as she caught the sly glint of satisfaction in Emily's eyes. It sent a sharp ache through her. She knew this game all too well. Emily had a gift for twisting people's vulnerabilities to her advantage, a lesson Sophia had learned the hard way three years ago. "I'm infertile. What possible use could I have for your eggs?" Sophia asked, her voice cold. "Do you really think I need a constant reminder of what I can't have?" Emily's smile vanished. For Helen's benefit, she bit her lip, her eyes instantly welling with feigned hurt. "Mrs. Westwood," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "I was only trying to help Sophia." Helen immediately comforted Emily by patting her hand. She then shot Sophia a disapproving look. "How can you be so selfish, Sophia? Are you really determined to let the Westwood family line die out?" Sophia gestured dismissively toward Emily. "Well, if she's so fertile, let her handle the baby-making." The thought of Emily getting to be a mother the easy way turned Sophia's stomach. Chapter 4 Take Back Her Things The color drained from both Helen's and Emily's faces. Helen stepped forward, jabbing a finger toward Sophia. "You think you're better than us? Then you give the Westwood family an heir. Don't blame anyone else for your own useless womb." Sophia bit back the sharp retort on her tongue. She was done with this family, done with Lucas. Arguing now would only prolong the inevitable. "Mrs. Westwood," she began, "I've decided—" Lucas's familiar, deep voice cut through the tension from the doorway. "Decided what?" Sophia turned to see Lucas standing there, his clothes rumpled from travel. His assistant, Kevin, hovered behind him with a suitcase in hand. The air in the room was thick with tension, so Kevin knew better than to stay. He simply left the suitcase by the door and made a quick exit. Loosening his tie, Lucas turned to Helen. "Mom, what brings you here?" "If I hadn't come, you'd have let our family name die out," Helen shot back. She then snatched the medical report from Sophia and flung it at Lucas's chest. "See for yourself," she said coldly, and with that, she swept out of the room. Lucas looked down at the document in his hands, and the words "permanent infertility" caused a faint twitch in his brow. His eyes, when they finally lifted to meet Sophia's, were devoid of warmth. "You'll go back to the hospital tomorrow for a full work-up. I will not have a wife who can't give me an heir." A hollow ache spread through Sophia's chest. Any foolish hope she'd been clinging to finally faded. Lucas had never defended her in three years of his mother's constant belittlement. And now, the ease with which he believed this lie revealed the chilling truth of his character. "I have the divorce papers right here," Sophia said, pulling the documents from her bag. She extended them toward him, her voice steady. "Just sign them, and you'll never have to see me again." Lucas didn't even look at the papers. In one swift motion, his hand closed around her throat, pulling her close. He leaned in until his face was mere inches from hers, and she could feel his warm breath and smell the familiar scent of his cologne. There was a time when this closeness would have made her heart flutter. Now, it only made her skin crawl. It was amazing how easy it was to walk away when all the love had drained away. "Sophia, have I been too soft with you?" Lucas's voice was thick with contempt. "Where exactly do you think you'll go without my protection?" She held his gaze without flinching. "That's really none of your concern anymore." "Still got that sharp tongue," he sneered. He released her with a dismissive shove, as if her defiance meant nothing. "Go make me dinner. I'm hungry." A wave of pain shot through Sophia's lower abdomen as she sank into the sofa, her skin turning clammy with an instant, cold sweat. Across the room, Emily slid her arm through Lucas's with practiced ease. "Don't let Sophia bother you," she murmured. "Her little scene was just a cry for your attention." Lucas pulled his tie free, his stern expression melting away as he focused on Emily. "How are you holding up?" he asked, his tone gentler. "I'm fine," she sighed, putting on a pitiful face. "It's just that the medicine is so awfully bitter." "It's bitter because it's strong. You need to keep taking it," he reminded her. "I picked up those candies you like. They're in my suitcase. Go get them yourself." "I know you always look out for me," Emily said, stretching up to press a light kiss to Lucas's cheek. "Consider that your reward." A look of quiet satisfaction crossed his features at the gesture. "I'm going up to shower," he said. "Go ahead," Emily said sweetly, fluttering a wave at him. She waited until Lucas's footsteps faded up the staircase before turning to the suitcase. They carried on as if Sophia weren't standing right there in the same room. Humming cheerfully, Emily unzipped the luggage. Alongside Lucas's neatly folded clothes sat a jar of shimmering candies and an elegant red velvet box that clearly held something valuable. Her eyes skipped over the candy, going straight to the velvet box. When she lifted the lid, a pink diamond necklace lay gleaming, its facets scattering rainbows in the light. "Oh, it's exquisite. I love it," she whispered, her eyes widening. "So the candy was just a decoy. This necklace is what he really wanted me to find." Draping the necklace against her collarbone, Emily turned to face Sophia, who had risen from the sofa. "Well, Sophia? Don't you think it suits me perfectly?" The pink diamond necklace around Emily's neck struck Sophia as oddly familiar. It came to her a moment later—she had coveted it last month while flipping through a magazine. Lucas had seen her fascination and promised to get it for her. The catch was its exclusivity—a single piece, sourced from Melaria, the country where Lucas had been attending to business. "That was for me," Sophia said, her voice calm. The man was disposable, but her possessions were not. She would reclaim what was rightfully hers. With a swift motion, Emily clasped the necklace. "Finders keepers," she said with a mocking grin. Sophia approached for a closer look. Though the necklace was more exquisite than its photograph, any desire for it had vanished. A wary look crossed Emily's face. "What is this about?" "To take what belongs to me, of course," Sophia said, stepping close and extending her hand. "It's time you returned it." Emily's hands instinctively flew to the diamond necklace at her throat. "Lucas will never stand for this, Sophia. You know what I mean to him." Sophia almost laughed. She knew well that Emily held a special place in Lucas's heart. But that was irrelevant. She was only claiming what was hers. "Give the bracelet back to me," Sophia said coldly. It was a token earned through true devotion, and she wouldn't let its significance be tarnished. Realizing Sophia only wanted the simple bracelet, Emily smiled condescendingly. 'Some shortsighted people have no taste,' she thought. Emily twisted the bracelet around her wrist. "I heard you went to Grace Abbey to beg for this good-luck charm," she said. "You are so hung up on him, aren't you?" The hypocrisy of her words was almost laughable. "Give it back," Sophia said, her voice like ice. Emily's eyes flickered to a point behind Sophia, and a sly smile touched her lips. She lowered her voice. "If you want it so badly, why don't you come and take it?" Sophia didn't stop to think. She grabbed Emily's wrist and tugged the bracelet free. The moment it was off, Emily's demeanor shifted completely. "Sophia, what are you doing?" she cried out, her voice suddenly loud and panicked. "Lucas gave this to me." Before Sophia could even turn around, a powerful hand seized her by the collar and hauled her backwards. The fabric dug sharply into her throat, stealing her breath. Stumbling to regain her footing, Sophia looked up to see Lucas. He was already cradling Emily. "Emily, are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern. Emily buried her face in his chest. "I'm fine," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Please, don't be angry with Sophia. She didn't mean it." Lucas's jaw tightened, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. He took a deep breath and fixed Sophia with an icy stare. "Apologize to Emily." Chapter 5 She Wants A Clean Break A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. She had fooled herself into thinking she was numb to Lucas's coldness. But his command still sent a fresh, sharp pain through her chest. She knew there was no point arguing with a man who had already chosen the other woman's side. "I won't apologize," Sophia said, her fist closing tightly around the bracelet. "What for?" Emily looked up at Lucas with well-practiced vulnerability. "I'm causing trouble here, Lucas. I should go." Lucas caught her wrist before she could take a second step. "You're staying right here." His attention snapped back to Sophia, his expression darkening. "Now, Sophia, apologize to Emily." The room blurred as tears filled Sophia's eyes, twisting his familiar face into a stranger's. She lifted the simple bracelet between them. "This is my stuff in the first place. Since when is taking back what was stolen a crime?" "Your stuff? Since when do you have anything of your own?" Lucas's lips curled in a sneer. "I've paid for every stitch of clothing on your back." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, forcing a bitter laugh from her lips. He knew perfectly well she earned her own living, yet he took every opportunity to demean her. "This bracelet came from Grace Abbey," she countered, her voice trembling. "You didn't pay a cent for it." Lucas's eyes dropped to the simple beads in her palm. "You think I care about some cheap bracelet?" he scoffed. Hot tears streamed down Sophia's face without warning. Wiping them away, Sophia made a silent vow—this would be the last time he reduced her to this. "Fine!" With one sharp motion, she snapped the bracelet's cord, sending beads skittering across the floor. Lucas watched the scattered beads come to rest, his hand curling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. He knew how much that bracelet meant to her, but the moment Emily wanted it, he didn't hesitate to take it off and hand it over. Lucas's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "Sophia!" "I want a divorce," Sophia said, her voice eerily calm. As she opened her hand, the last bead from the bracelet clattered onto the floor between them. "Let's just end this." The sound was small, but in the tense silence, it was deafening, echoing in Lucas's mind. He let out a short laugh, his gaze locked on her. "You think a threat will work? You should know better than that by now." 'This has to be a ploy,' he thought to himself. 'She loves me too much to go through with it. She has accepted her role as Emily's replacement from the beginning and has never once tried to leave. 'She would never have the strength to walk away from me.' "Go make us something to eat, and we can forget this ever happened." Lucas was certain he had thrown Sophia a lifeline. He waited, fully expecting her to be overcome with relief and scurry off to the kitchen. He'd been away on business, and days of unfamiliar rich food had left his stomach unsettled. What he craved was Sophia's cooking—simple, hearty food that tasted like home. It was a flavor he couldn't find anywhere else. "You can go eat your ass," Sophia shot back. She picked up her bag, her lips twisting into a scornful smile, and walked out without a backward glance. That smile grated on Lucas's nerves more than the insult itself. In his frustration, his eyes fell on the string of prayer beads lying scattered on the floor, and he gave them an impatient kick. 'So that's her game. She wants to challenge me? I'd like to see just how long her resolve will hold,' he thought, fuming. ***** Sophia sped away from Nightfall Estate, her phone buzzing relentlessly on the passenger seat. Lucas's name flashed across the screen again and again until she finally grabbed it and blocked his number for good. When she looked up at the road, she blinked, her vision blurring for a moment. She braced for the familiar sting of tears, but when her fingers touched her skin, it was dry. It was only then that she noticed the soft patter against the windshield. A fine drizzle had begun to fall, and a quiet melancholy settled over her, as gray as the sky. Up ahead, the flickering hazard lights of a sleek black car broke the rhythm of the rain. A man in a soaked suit, looking to be in his forties, stood beside it, waving frantically at passing traffic. Almost without conscious thought, Sophia found herself flipping on her turn signal and pulling over. She rolled down her window as the man rushed over. "Everything okay?" she asked. "It's my boss," the man said, his voice tight with panic. "He's having a heart attack. The ambulance is stuck in a multi-car accident. Please, can you take us to the hospital?" Sophia hesitated. Letting two strange men into her car, especially in this weather, felt dangerous. Every cautionary tale she'd ever heard flashed through her mind. Seeing her hesitation, the man added urgently, "I promise we're not dangerous. My boss is—" But Sophia was already moving, cutting the engine and stepping out into the downpour. "Just get him to my car, now," she called out as she rushed toward their vehicle. As she got closer, she recognized the distinctive emblem of the black Maybach. Working together, they carefully transferred the elderly man from the luxury sedan into Sophia's more modest car. The old man's lips were tinged with blue, and each ragged breath seemed like a struggle, clear signs of his critical condition. Sliding behind the wheel, Sophia started the car and pulled back onto the road, pushing through the veils of rain. In the backseat, the middle-aged man was a whirlwind of activity on his phone, coordinating with a hospital and alerting the family. Beyond the windows, the storm seemed to intensify, as if trying to match the urgency inside the car. After ensuring everything was in place, the man turned to Sophia with heartfelt appreciation. "You're the only one who stopped in this downpour. We can't thank you enough." A warm smile touched Sophia's lips. "Some things are just meant to be." ***** Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital entrance where medical staff stood ready. The team swiftly transferred the elderly man to a stretcher and hurried him inside for emergency care. Just as Sophia was about to drive away, she spotted a lone leather shoe in the backseat—the one the elderly man had been wearing. After a moment's hesitation, she parked properly and carried the shoe to the reception desk, logging it as a lost item. Sophia was just turning to leave when a group emerged from the hospital's main entrance. At the front of the group was a man whose height and posture commanded attention. He turned his sharp gaze on her, and the intensity in his eyes was so commanding that it felt like a physical pressure. 'That frown means trouble,' Sophia thought. She averted her gaze and continued walking, brushing past the group without a second look. It wasn't until she was back in the driver's seat that she felt the chill of her wet clothes clinging to her skin. As she dried her hair with a towel from the backseat, a notification popped up on her phone while she was opening the navigation app. It was a post from Emily: [Nothing says 'forever' like a soft-boiled egg made with love! My ultimate comfort food.] The post featured two photos—one showed a soft-boiled egg with a ketchup heart, and the other captured a tall man's back as he stood at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Sophia couldn't help but compare. When she was with Lucas, he had acted like even pouring her a glass of water was a significant concession. Cooking a meal was utterly out of the question. The fact that he was now cooking for Emily spoke volumes about where his true affections lay. She closed the page and entered her apartment address into the navigation system before driving out of the parking lot. As she watched the heavy rain outside, a single decisive thought crystallized in her mind—this marriage was over. Chapter 6 Return The Trash To The Dumpster That evening, a text came through from Annabelle Quinn, Sophia's best friend since college, insisting they go out to a lounge. The old Sophia would have declined immediately, conditioned to obey Lucas's rule about her not going out. But now that Sophia was divorcing him, his opinions held no weight. ***** The moment Sophia stepped out of the car, she saw Annabelle waiting by the entrance. "Hope you haven't been waiting long," she said as she approached. "Just got here," Annabelle grinned, looping her arm through Sophia's. "So, what's the special occasion? Did you finally get a night off from your sweetheart?" Sophia struggled to find the words, but she couldn't keep it from her best friend. "I'm getting a divorce," she finally said. "Let me guess," Annabelle said, not one to mince words in front of her best friend. "This is about Emily being back, isn't it?" "It's not just that," Sophia admitted, her voice quiet. It just took seeing the difference for herself to truly see how little her three years of effort had meant. Annabelle threw a supportive arm around Sophia's shoulders. "You should have woken up to this a long time ago." For three years, she had watched Sophia lose herself in a hollow relationship, and it killed Annabelle to see her friend throw everything away for a man who never appreciated her. "Better late than never," Sophia offered with a weak smile. "Damn right it is," Annabelle declared. "Tonight, I'm getting us the best male models in town. You deserve some real attention." They ascended into the pulsating heart of the club, pushing through the glittering crowd toward the exclusive booth Annabelle had booked. As they moved past the entrance to a private booth, a burst of laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway. Amid the noise, Sophia's own name caught her sharp ear. "Got to hand it to Lucas. The minute Emily was back, he moved her right in. Word is, he showed Sophia the door." "Well, she had it coming. Play the simp, and you lose it all. Seriously though, that night in the booth with all the blood? I truly thought a tragedy had occurred, but it was probably just her period." "You're thinking about that? Man, have you had a thing for Sophia all along?" "Who'd pine after some nobody from a backwater? Only Lucas, with his unique preferences, would stick around for three years." "Guess the novelty wore off. Time for a change." Standing in the hallway, Sophia felt a cold stillness settle behind her eyes. The voices clicked into place—Lucas's oldest friends. They had been there that night, spectators to her most shameful moment. Annabelle's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind." But as she moved toward the door, Sophia stopped her with a gentle hand. "This is my battle to fight," Sophia said firmly. With that, Sophia pushed the door open and swept into the room. She settled gracefully onto the sofa, joining their conversation with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you're talking about unique preferences, I top him," she began, her voice deceptively light, "I recycled what Emily threw away. But it looks like I did everyone a favor by returning the trash to the dumpster where it belongs." A stunned silence fell over the room. Every face on the circular sofa stared at her in horrified fascination. Unbeknownst to Sophia, two figures had entered the room behind her during her speech. The guests' eyes darted nervously between Sophia and the newcomers, the air thickening with tension. There stood Lucas and Emily, their expressions dark as storm clouds. Their presence made Sophia turn. Her eyes instantly met the cold, dark stare of Lucas. But she didn't back down. A defiant shrug lifted her shoulders. "Look what the cat dragged in. My trash husband." Emily's eyes instantly glistened with tears. "Sophia, ignore them," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "It's all lies. Lucas and I are just friends." As if to prove her point, she clutched Lucas's arm. "Tell her, Lucas. Make her understand there's nothing going on between us." Sophia's gaze dropped to the hand clinging to Lucas's arm, and a faint, derisive smile touched her mouth. 'Just friends? Did she really expect anyone to believe that?' she thought bitterly. Lucas detached himself from Emily's grip and closed the distance between him and Sophia. The motion broke the tension, stirring his friends into action. "Hey, Lucas, take it easy," one of them said, stepping forward. "She's just reacting to our stupid jokes." "Come on, Sophia, just say you're sorry to Lucas," another one urged. "You know he'll forgive you." The suggestion made Sophia want to laugh bitterly. 'Is this really how they see me? As some lovesick fool who'd come crawling back at the first sign of forgiveness?' she thought. It explained everything—why, for three years, they had shown her phony respect as Lucas's wife while mocking her devotion in private. She had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn't met Lucas seven years ago, if that fateful incident hadn't tied her to him, she would have moved on with her life long ago. "Are you quite done?" Lucas's voice cut through her thoughts as he reached for her arm. She shifted her weight gracefully, letting his hand close on empty air. The rejected gesture hung between them for a beat too long before he withdrew, his features tightening with displeasure. Turning to Emily, who was now dabbing at her eyes, Sophia arched a brow. "There's no need for the waterworks. You're making it look like I'm the one being cruel here." "Sophia, I've treated you like my elder sister. I—" Emily began, trying to defend herself. "Don't," Sophia interrupted, her voice cool. "We arrived minutes apart, and you were first. Let's skip the emotional act." Emily's face turned from pale to deep red as she clenched her jaw in fury. 'Since when has Sophia found this kind of nerve? She used to shrink into silence whenever Lucas was near,' she thought. Despite her three-year absence from the city, Emily had ensured she received every scrap of information about Sophia's life. She knew all about Sophia's pathetic attempts to please Lucas, and she knew exactly how little he cared for his wife. She even knew they kept separate bedrooms, and that on the occasional night Lucas spent with Sophia, he always sent her back to her own room afterward. She knew that to Lucas, Sophia was just a body—convenient, disposable, and utterly unimportant. With a dark expression, Lucas grabbed Sophia's wrist and began pulling her toward the exit. Sophia's answer was a sharp, stinging slap across his cheek. The sound cracked through the air, and a dead silence fell over the room. All eyes were fixed on Sophia in pure shock. Everyone was wondering if she had lost her mind to dare something like that. Lucas slowly worked his jaw, the look in his eyes so dark that it promised retribution. When Sophia resisted, Lucas didn't hesitate. He swept her up onto his shoulder and carried her out of the room. The sight made Emily's heart clench. She'd never seen Lucas be so patient with anyone. Before she knew it, her hand was on his arm. "Lucas..." He didn't turn his head, but some of the tension left his expression. "I'm taking her home," he said firmly. "The driver will return for you when you're ready." Emily could only watch as Lucas walked away with Sophia. She had no right to stop him, but it stung—this was the first time he'd ever left her for another woman, especially one who meant nothing. Her hands tightened at her sides. 'I gave you a chance to walk away quietly, Sophia. You brought this on yourself,' she thought. Sophia's protests echoed down the hallway as she struggled against Lucas's hold. Unsure what was happening between the couple, Annabelle turned away, pretending she hadn't noticed them. Lucas carried Sophia into the elevator and stepped out briskly when it reached the basement level. As the car door opened, Lucas tossed Sophia into the back seat. Struggling upright, she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea from the prolonged time she'd spent upside down. She opened her mouth to curse, but the words died on her lips as the tinted window of a nearby Maybach began to descend. In the shadowy interior, the man's profile was sharp and forbidding. His lips were set in a firm line, and he sat with the imposing stillness of an iceberg, his presence pushing others away. Sensing her gaze, he glanced over, and their eyes locked. Without a word, Sophia averted her gaze and hid her face behind a veil of tangled hair. Chapter 7 Not Her Home Anymore Lucas's black Bentley pulled out of the underground parking garage, but Sophia was still lost in thought about those intense eyes. There was something familiar about them, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen them before. Lucas's voice broke the silence. "Did you follow me here? What are you so concerned about?" "What?" Sophia asked, snapping back to reality. Keeping his eyes on the road, Lucas tried to explain. "You know how my friends are—they never think before they speak. Don't take their words seriously. There's nothing going on between Emily and me." 'If there's really nothing between them, why was he being so protective? He only rushed me out because he was worried I might cause a scene and embarrass Emily,' Sophia thought. "Sure," Sophia said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You and Emily are completely innocent." "I'm trying to explain myself here," Lucas said, his patience wearing thin. "Do you have to be so sarcastic?" Her ungrateful attitude was beginning to irritate him. He remembered how she used to soften at the slightest reassurance. Now, it seemed her patience had worn thin. "Understood," Sophia said, her tone flat. "Is that all?" "I've been clear from the beginning—you are my wife, and that won't change. But if you want this marriage to work, you need to drop your little tricks. I won't play these games." Sophia stayed quiet, struck by his assumption that her mention of divorce was merely a plea for attention. Her silence tightened the air between them. "Don't become someone I resent, Sophia," he said with a frown, his voice low. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips as she turned toward the window, shutting him out completely. Sensing he had pushed too far, Lucas eased his tone. "I had your things moved back to our room. If you want to stay with me, just say so. There's no need for all this." Sophia was left speechless. ***** As the car came to a stop in the courtyard of Nightfall Estate, Sophia stepped out. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the cherry blossom grove in the garden. The sight sent a sharp pang through her chest. She forced her gaze away and continued into the villa. Inside, the decor had been completely redone. The new style, with its unmistakable resemblance to the Evans residence, clearly revealed who had overseen the renovations. She moved through rooms that felt entirely alien to her now, but she kept her thoughts to herself since this was no longer her home. Wendy looked surprised when she saw Sophia. "Mrs. Westwood, you've returned. Have you had your supper?" Sinking into the plush pink sofa, Sophia answered quietly, "Yes, thank you." Wendy offered a tight smile before retreating to her quarters to make a hurried phone call to Helen, reporting the unexpected arrival. Helen had never approved of Sophia, whom she saw as a plain nobody not good enough for her son. The infertility diagnosis hardened Helen's resolve to rush the divorce so Lucas could marry someone worthy of giving her grandchildren. The news of Sophia's sudden return after her dramatic departure kept Helen tossing and turning all night. Lucas had been certain Sophia would confront him about the complete makeover of their home. He stood ready to smooth things over, but she walked through the rooms without comment, her silence leaving him more unsettled than any argument would have. "If the decor isn't to your taste..." Lucas moved to sit beside her, his arms beginning to encircle her. Sophia reached for a throw pillow, tucking it between them as she shifted away from his embrace. The gentle rejection stung, though Lucas reassured himself that this was the same woman who had always adored him. "It's true. I prefer my original choices," she said calmly. "Can you have everything returned to how it was?" The warm, elegant furnishings had vanished, replaced by the overwhelming pinks that Emily favored—a transformation that had turned their home into something resembling a kitschy boutique hotel. Lucas shifted uncomfortably. "Let's not make a big deal out of it. You'll get used to the way things are around here." A faint, knowing smile curved on Sophia's lips as she met his gaze. That smile never failed to get under his skin. "Try to see it from her perspective, Sophia," he said, his voice tightening. "After everything she's been through these past three years, all Emily wants is to feel like she belongs." A wave of exhaustion washed over her. It was like talking to a brick wall. "I know," she said flatly. "You have your entire family backing you up," Lucas shot back, his patience clearly wearing thin. "But Emily? She has nobody else. Is it really so hard for you to be a little more compassionate?" "Funny," Sophia replied, her tone icy. "I was under the impression my adoptive parents were still very much alive." Besides, the Evans family had never once ceased to think about Emily throughout those three years. They made trip after trip to Felarica to celebrate Emily's birthdays and attend her parties. They even missed Sophia's wedding to Lucas because of her. A single social media post from Emily, complaining of her loneliness in Felarica, was all it took for them to drop everything and fly to her side. "Now that you've made it out of that dead-end town, you should be the last person to let Emily sink into it," he shot back. As Sophia looked at him, the last glimmer of hope in her eyes vanished. She knew well enough to stop mentioning divorce. To Lucas, it was just another act—proof that she was the same desperate woman the world thought her to be. If she couldn't get through to Lucas, she was going to find another path. Now, with her infertility diagnosis, she knew Helen would be far more impatient to act on this news. Sophia retreated to the master bedroom. Her possessions had claimed their space, with her clothes occupying half of the vast closet. A sense of normalcy had finally settled between her and Lucas, the kind that belongs to a husband and wife. But it was a fragile peace, already beginning to fray. Lucas was still in the living room when Emily returned. The air around her carried the sharp tang of liquor. Her face was deeply flushed, and she swayed slightly as she walked. He was at her side in an instant, his hand gently steadying her. "You've had far too much to drink," he murmured, his brow furrowed with worry. "This isn't good for you. I don't want to see you like this again." Emily turned into him, her arms finding their way around his neck. "I couldn't help it," she whispered, her voice thick with drink and emotion. "It's the only thing that dulls the ache." Sensing her legs might give way, he simply gathered her into his arms. "Wendy," he said to the housekeeper who had appeared, heading for the stairs. "Would you bring up some electrolyte water for Emily?" "Understood," Wendy replied. Playing the part of the drunken mess, Emily clung to Lucas and sobbed into his chest. "I've always regretted it," she cried. "Letting my pride push you away was the biggest mistake of my life." A long-buried tenderness tugged at Lucas's heart. "Let's try again, Lucas. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice," she whispered, tilting her face up to his. Just as their lips were about to meet, the master bedroom door swung open, and the sudden movement startled the couple in the hallway. Sophia stood in the doorway in her pajamas, watching them with a completely expressionless face. Lucas instantly snapped back to reality, and a rare look of panic flashed across his handsome face. "Sophie, Emily is drunk," he said quickly. "I'm just taking her back to her room." Still draped around him, Emily met Sophia's eyes over Lucas's shoulder. The tears were gone, replaced by a cool, triumphant smirk that held no trace of intoxication. Sophia's mouth curved into a humorless smile as she replied, "Yes, and you're drunk too." Without another word, she stepped back and slammed the door, the turn of the lock echoing decisively behind her. The idea of sleeping next to Lucas made her blood boil. She honestly didn't trust herself to lie beside him all night without her rage getting the better of her. Chapter 8 Divorce Settlement The next morning, as Sophia left her room, the guest room door across the hall opened at the exact same time. Lucas was stepping out, finishing with his tie. He glanced up and went completely still, finding Sophia already watching him from their bedroom doorway. Surprise flashed across his face, and he started with an explanation. "She was a mess last night," he said, his voice low. "I couldn't just leave her." Sophia's eyes dropped to the bright red smudge on his collar. Her eyes were filled with silent scorn as she thought about how filthy it was. She said with icy calm, "Relax, I know perfectly well that nothing would ever happen between you two, even when you don't have a stitch of clothing on." Her words cut off whatever excuse Lucas was about to offer. Anger darkened his features. "Think what you want," he snapped. "My feelings for her are purely brotherly." Sophia's eyes fell to the lipstick stain on his collar again. "So, how does it feel to be so close to your 'sister'?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Following her line of sight, Lucas saw the evidence, and a shadow of guilt crossed his face. "It was an accident," he insisted, his voice tight. "Don't make it sound so sordid." "So filthy," she murmured, shaking her head. As he drew a sharp breath to retaliate, she added with a cold smile, "I mean your shirt." He stared at her, his expression turning to stone. She merely offered a careless shrug and walked away, leaving him fuming in the hallway. Downstairs, Sophia was halfway through her breakfast when her phone vibrated on the table. A quick glance at the screen confirmed it was Helen calling. Just then, Wendy appeared with two additional breakfast plates. Sophia swiped to answer the call, a deliberate smile directed at Wendy. "You're calling so early, Mrs. Westwood." The pointed smile made Wendy's blood run cold, and at the mention of Mrs. Westwood, she was reminded of betraying Sophia by reporting to Helen last night. Stricken with guilt, she almost fumbled the tray. She dropped the plates onto the table and hastily retreated to the safety of the kitchen. A faint, cold smile touched Sophia's lips as Helen's venomous voice filled her ear. "Utterly devoid of manners," Helen sneered. "What else can you expect from someone with such a common background?" Sophia's eyes turned to ice. "Trace any lineage back three generations, Mrs. Westwood, and you'll find humble roots. It's distasteful to scorn your own origins." Helen found herself at a loss for words. Though Lucas's parents both had city roots, his grandparents' generation had all struggled in a backwater. Helen's parents had even lived in a cowshed. So in that regard, Helen was no better than Sophia. "That sharp tongue of yours is exactly why people can't stand you," Helen shot back. Sophia rolled her eyes in contempt. Biting back her anger, Helen forced a calmer tone. "We need to meet. There's a document for you to sign." "What kind of document?" "It'll be clear when you get here." Letting the matter drop, Sophia hung up. As she did, she saw Lucas descending the staircase. He had showered and changed, his hair perfectly styled like a model from the pages of a magazine. She had to admit, he was pleasing to look at. 'With those looks, he certainly has the assets for a career as a gigolo,' Sophia thought wryly. A smug feeling warmed Lucas as her eyes stayed on him. He drew out the chair next to hers and sat down. "Paliston Fashion Week is just around the corner," he offered. "It'll be a good chance for us to get away." In three years of marriage, it was the first time he had ever proposed such a thing. Sophia acknowledged him with a quiet hum, but she felt no spark of happiness or expectation. She saw the offer for what it was—a peace offering, born of the guilt he carried after his betrayal. Her ride showed up shortly after breakfast. Picking up her bag, Sophia walked out the door.
Chapter 1 His First Love Returned Sophia Evans could feel her world beginning to crack the moment she heard the news—the woman her husband, Lucas Westwood, had never gotten over was back. When Sophia arrived at the hotel's VIP suite with a gift, she found Lucas's first love—Emily Evans—being humiliated by his childhood friends. "Lick the wine off my shoe, Emily. I'll give you thirty thousand dollars," one of them said. Emily was forced to kneel on the floor, tears in her defiant eyes as she stared shamefully at Lucas. Lucas watched with a dark expression, saying nothing as he held his temper in check. Sophia halted mid-step, struck by the painful familiarity of the scene. Three years ago, when she had first been welcomed into the Evans family, these same privileged young men had tormented her in exactly the same way to gain Emily's favor. But back then, Lucas hadn't worn this expression of utter heartbreak. "There you are," Lucas said as soon as he spotted Sophia, his arm sliding around her waist in a show of intimacy. Only Sophia could feel the desperate pressure of his grip—a silent testament to the pain he was trying to conceal. Lucas's childhood friends had reserved the entire venue for his birthday celebration. But Sophia had never expected Emily to show up here. Everyone knew Lucas had married Sophia just to spite Emily. Three years ago, Emily's identity as a fake heiress was exposed. She broke up with Lucas then and there and left the Evans family behind. Lucas pursued her to the airport, boarded her departing flight, and forced the plane that had already taken off to turn back. Right there on that plane, he proposed to Emily. To his complete surprise, Emily refused without hesitation, declaring that the arranged marriage should be honored by the Evans family's true heiress. Humiliated and acting out of spite, Lucas married Sophia instead. For three years, Sophia had lived as Emily's stand-in. Everyone whispered that if Emily ever returned, Lucas would discard Sophia without a second thought. Sophia had once believed that too, but something had shifted in these past six months—Lucas seemed to be genuinely falling for her. He made grand declarations of love in the press, showered her with luxury homes and cars, and even replaced the cherry tree he'd planted for Emily with a garden full of red roses. In their most tender moments, he'd whisper against her ear, "Let's have a baby, Sophie. I hope they have your smile." Sophia's hand drifted absently to her stomach as she clutched the gift box a little tighter. Inside was a positive pregnancy test—meant to be Lucas's birthday surprise. But now, the timing of the gift felt all wrong. "You still think you're the Evans family princess, Emily? Lucas only has eyes for Sophia now. Why not be with me? A pretty thing like you deserves to be treated right," one of Lucas's friends, Ryan Shaw, sneered. He dragged Emily onto his lap, his hands already roaming over her. "Get your hands off me!" Emily cried, fighting against Ryan's grip as humiliation burned through her. Her resistance only fueled Ryan's excitement. In one swift motion, he shoved her down onto the couch, his powerful body trapping hers. Horrified that Ryan would assault Emily right in front of Lucas, Sophia jumped up to stop him, only to be shoved aside as Lucas already surged into action. As she stumbled, her hands instinctively reached for Lucas's arm, but he brutally shook her off. She hit the floor hard, a jolt of sharp pain shooting from her tailbone straight to her womb. Through the pain-induced haze, she saw Lucas grab Ryan by the collar, drag him off Emily, and pummel his face with brutal, unforgiving fists. "You've overstepped, Ryan. Emily is mine. Even if I discard her, she'll never be yours to touch," Lucas snapped. His words hung in the air, and the entire room fell silent as if frozen in time. Sophia stared at Lucas in disbelief, wondering where she stood in his life now that he had openly claimed Emily as his woman. All eyes in the room were drawn to the scene. Some watched with malicious delight, while others were simply captivated by the unfolding drama. Doubled over in pain, Sophia felt a warm wetness spreading beneath her. Her face paled as a cold dread gripped her heart. "Honey, my stomach hurts," she turned to Lucas instinctively. "Please, take me to the hospital." Without even glancing her way, Lucas removed his jacket and gently placed it around Emily's shoulders. Nestling into his embrace, Emily whispered, her voice trembling, "Lucas, I'm scared. Please take me away from here." "Don't worry," he murmured, holding her close. "I won't let anyone hurt you." Sweeping Emily into his arms, Lucas carried her out of the room, completely ignoring Sophia's pain-racked form shuddering on the floor. Perched comfortably on his shoulder, Emily gazed down at Sophia's crumpled form on the floor, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. The spectators murmured among themselves, still savoring the drama they'd just witnessed. "Emily's definitely the one for Lucas. He hasn't taken his eyes off her all night." "The way Lucas looks at her... I thought it was hatred, but it's clearly something else entirely." "Who could resist someone like her? I certainly wouldn't be able to stay angry." "Poor Sophia. She was just a side character in their love story." At the mention of Sophia's name, the crowd remembered her presence simultaneously, their attention shifting to where she sat. Sophia was in terrible pain and covered in a cold sweat until someone finally noticed her condition and quickly helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?" the guy asked. She gripped his arm tightly as the room spun around her. "Please take me to the hospital. My stomach hurts terribly," she pleaded. Then everything went dark as she fainted. Through the haze of semi-consciousness, distant screams about blood echoed in her ears. When Sophia regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital room. The sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the air as she lay alone in the quiet ward. A nurse tending to her bandages noticed her awakening. "You're awake," she said softly. Sophia's voice came out weak and fearful. "My baby... Is my baby alright?" "Your baby is fine," the nurse reassured her. "But you'll need to take special care. These first few months are particularly delicate in your condition." Relief washed over Sophia as grateful tears fell. "Thank you," she whispered, overwhelmed that her child was safe. Through the emotional turmoil, Sophia's first thought was to share the news with Lucas immediately. Wiping her tears, she reached for her phone and dialed his number. The phone rang several times before Lucas finally picked up. His voice was edged with impatience as he answered, "Not coming home tonight. Don't wait—" "Lucas, my hair's caught in this zipper," Emily's voice interrupted, floating through the line. "Could you give me a hand?" Sophia's knuckles went white around her phone. "Be right there," he said. The call ended before Sophia could form a response. Overnight, things between her and Lucas had reverted to how they were six months ago. Back then, he'd been all cold shoulders and sharp tones. Even in their most intimate moments, he treated her like just another need to be met. To him, she might as well have been a stranger—or worse, just a convenient body. So when he finally let his guard down, she'd been so grateful for the warmth that she fell harder than she ever meant to. She thought her years of longing had finally paid off. But reality slapped her senseless when Lucas chose Emily's safety over their own child's life. After being discharged from the hospital, Sophia caught a taxi home. Midway through the ride, her phone buzzed with a Twitter alert. It was a tweet from Emily: [You told me you'd hold my hand and never let go—not for the rest of our lives.] The attached photo showed Emily dressed like a princess, complete with a tiny crown, her hand locked tightly with a larger, elegant hand. Around the wrist was a bracelet made of prayer beads—the very one Sophia had prayed for in a church last year, when Lucas was burning up with fever. That day, he squeezed her hand and whispered a promise that he would never leave her side. Chapter 2 Ask Him For A Divorce The taxi stopped outside the Nightfall Estate, where Sophia paid the fare and got out of the vehicle. She was just heading inside when a truck carrying young cherry trees rumbled up the drive and stopped near the garden. Workers carefully unloaded the cherry trees and settled them into the prepared holes. Where a vibrant sea of red roses had bloomed just yesterday, now only upturned earth remained, with the plants piled carelessly to the side. A dull ache spread through Sophia's chest as she gazed at the rose petals strewn like crimson tears across the soil. The familiar purr of a luxury car engine approached from behind. Turning around, Sophia saw Lucas step out of the car. He stood tall and straight, radiating a natural air of calm elegance. "Honey..." Sophia began, but the words died on her lips as he leaned back into the car. With gentle care, he helped a woman step out—it was Emily, who looked radiant in an exquisite designer ensemble that made her complexion glow. Only when Emily was steady did Lucas's gaze finally meet Sophia's, those usually warm eyes now regarding her with detached indifference. "Did you need something?" he asked, his tone flat. The cold unfamiliarity in his look struck Sophia's heart like a physical blow. "Why are you tearing out the roses when they were growing so well?" she asked, desperate for his explanation. Those roses had been his special way of confessing his feelings to her. Lucas barely glanced at the destroyed garden. "Emily's not feeling well. She'll be staying with us for a bit." "What does that have to do with the roses?" she pressed. "She's allergic to the pollen," he said curtly, already turning to guide Emily inside. Sophia stood rooted to the spot, her heart breaking. Emily's delicate voice carried through the air. "Lucas, Sophia seems upset. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have complained about the roses." "She doesn't matter to me," Lucas reassured her. "But I worry she'll resent me. Really, I can manage with allergy medication," Emily offered, her voice dripping with false concern. "Medication always has side effects. Don't suggest things that worry me," he replied. Sophia stood motionless as she watched their figures grow smaller in the distance. A silent tear traced its way down her cheek while overwhelming sorrow washed over her. 'I don't matter to him... Yeah, right,' Sophia murmured with bitter irony, the truth of the words settling like a weight in her heart. He hadn't even asked about her absence last night, and now he had ordered her favorite roses to be torn out. The message was clear—she meant less to him than the slightest thought of Emily. For three years, she had devoted herself to him, offering unwavering love and comfort through difficult times. She had believed her constant warmth could thaw even the coldest heart, but Emily's reappearance had erased everything in an instant. She wondered what their intimacy these past six months had truly meant, and what role she had actually played in his life. A sudden twinge in her lower abdomen made her catch her breath. Pale and unsteady, she turned toward the villa. As Sophia stepped into the living room, she saw Emily nestled against Lucas on the sofa, watching with affectionate amusement as he peeled an orange for her. Lucas gently picked away every bit of white pith from the orange segments before arranging them on a plate for Emily. "For you," he said with a soft smile. "Enjoy, my little foodie." As Emily took the plate, she noticed Sophia entering the room. A triumphant smile graced her lips as she called out, "Sophia, would you like some? Lucas peeled these himself. Something you've never experienced, I'm sure." Sophia's gaze fell upon the perfectly prepared orange segments, and she felt a sudden sting behind her eyes. The painful truth was that in all their time together, Lucas had never once peeled an orange for her. She had always been the one serving him. The realization struck her with perfect clarity—Lucas knew well how to be thoughtful, but he simply reserved his kindness for Emily. Sophia felt her heart breaking into pieces as she finally understood how painful comparison could be. "She's perfectly capable of peeling her own fruit," Lucas said dismissively, barely glancing at Sophia. Then he noticed her pale complexion and added, "Are you alright? You look terribly pale." Sophia's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she debated telling Lucas her secret pregnancy. A fragile hope whispered within her—that this truth might finally soften his heart toward her. "I..." Her voice faltered, the words dying on her lips. "If you're ill, see a doctor. This pathetic act is getting tiresome," Lucas said, impatience flashing across his handsome features. He was annoyed by her wounded expression, which seemed to suggest she was the victim of some terrible injustice. Sophia swallowed her unspoken words, her gaze lingering on the man who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. "I'm fine," she murmured. "I'll just go to my room." As she turned toward the staircase, Lucas felt a surge of irritation. 'I must've been too lenient with her, and now she dared to show me attitude,' he thought, fuming. Sophia had only climbed a few steps when the housekeeper, Wendy, appeared descending the stairs with servants carrying boxes. The items looked familiar, but it was the sight of her stuffed doll in Wendy's arms that made Sophia realize everything they carried was hers. In a swift motion, she stepped forward and snatched the doll. Her voice turned icy as she asked, "Wendy, care to explain this?" "Mr. Westwood's orders," Wendy said quietly. "You're to move to the storage room downstairs." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, leaving her mind reeling. She turned to Lucas, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious." They'd already maintained separate bedrooms, but she never imagined that she'd be banished to a storage room instead of even being offered the guest suite after Emily's return. For a fleeting moment under her gaze, Lucas felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly hardened into resolve. "Emily needs the sunroom for her health," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your room gets the best light. It's better for her recovery." The absurdity of it all drew a bitter laugh from Sophia's lips. She thought his previous cruelty—shoving her while pregnant and replacing her roses with Emily's cherry trees—had been the worst it could get. But this new humiliation surpassed even that. All Lucas had done since Emily's return yesterday was talk about her. In just one day, she had turned Sophia's whole life upside down. Sophia expected to feel rage, but instead found only a hollow emptiness settling in her chest. 'Look at him, Sophia,' Sophia thought bitterly. 'This is the man you gave your heart and soul to. Was any of it worth it?' "If you're so worried about her comfort, why not just move her into your room? The master suite gets the best light anyway," Sophia shot back. Lucas responded sharply, "Sophia, you need to watch your tone." Emily's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I know you don't want me here, Sophia. I'll go. Please don't fight with Lucas over me." Sophia saw right through Emily's act. A humorless laugh escaped her as she spat, "You're not going anywhere. I am." Tightening her grip on the stuffed doll, she turned and headed for the door. "Don't you dare, Sophia." Lucas rose to his feet, his voice cutting through the room. "Walk out that door now, and don't expect to ever come back." Sophia's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "I'll make sure you receive the divorce papers," she said, her voice cold and steady. "See that you sign them." "You're asking me for a divorce?" Lucas's voice was low, thick with barely restrained fury. He added, his tone edged with contempt, "Have you forgotten who gave you this life, Sophia? The luxury, the status—all of it came from me. Without my name, you're just that wide-eyed girl fresh off that forgotten little town. You don't get to leave." Chapter 3 The Replaced Medical Result Sophia didn't need to look back to know the condescending smirk that was surely on Lucas's face. She knew he had always despised her. His proposal three years ago had been motivated only by a desire to fulfill the marriage agreement between their families and to exact revenge on Emily. She had been naive enough to believe his empty promises, offering him her genuine love when he saw her as nothing more than a pawn. To him, she would always be a leech, clinging to his wealth and name for survival. But now, she had reached her limit, and she no longer wanted him in her life. Sophia walked out without a backward glance. As she stepped through the gateway, the sound of shattering porcelain echoed behind her, but she no longer cared. Lucas stood amid the shattered remains, fingers pressed to his temples. His face was a mask of simmering anger. He dismissed the mention of divorce as just another one of her calculated moves, a transparent attempt to get his attention by pulling away. Emily watched him hesitantly. "Maybe I shouldn't be staying here, Lucas. Sophia seemed really upset." "It's nothing," Lucas replied evenly. Seeing how the mention of divorce had affected him, she suggested softly, "You could go after her. Women usually respond well to a little reassurance." "I don't have time for that," Lucas said, turning toward the staircase. With a business trip looming, his mind was elsewhere. 'Let her make a scene if she wants to,' he thought. 'She'll cool off and come crawling back. She always does.' ***** Sophia's home was a beautiful 3,200-square-foot apartment with an open-concept layout and sleek modern decor—all paid for with her own earnings. In her study, she printed the divorce papers and a letter resigning from her position. With a steady hand, she signed both, and then summoned a courier to deliver them directly to the Westwood Group. When she married Lucas three years ago, Sophia had joined his company, hoping to build a genuine connection with him. She started at the very bottom as an assistant and gradually earned her way up to department manager. She had wanted nothing more than to be close to him—in their home and at work. But in the end, her efforts were met with cold indifference. Gazing downward, Sophia softly cradled her stomach. "It's just us now, little one," she whispered. The courier arrived at Westwood headquarters while Lucas was away. His chief executive assistant, Kevin Chapman, received the delivery and signed. The moment Kevin saw the contents, he reached for the phone, dialing Lucas's number in haste. "Mr. Westwood, your wife has sent divorce documents." "Burn it all." On the other side of the ocean, Lucas loosened his tie as an unexpected wave of irritation came over him. "But Mrs. Westwood has even submitted her resignation letter..." Kevin replied, his tone hesitant. "She can't survive without this family." The blue flame from Lucas's lighter highlighted the grim set of his features. "Let her be. She'll come crawling back once reality sets in." Meanwhile, Sophia remained completely unaware of his words. Her morning had begun with a call from her mother-in-law, Helen Westwood. "Where are you? Return at once," Helen commanded in her typically imperious manner, leaving no room for discussion. Complying, Sophia drove back to the estate. No sooner had she stepped inside than a velvet box came hurling toward her head, which she narrowly avoided by stepping aside. Helen's shrill voice pierced the air. "How dare you avoid that? You've got some nerve." Sophia's gaze fell upon the velvet box at her feet, and suddenly, she understood why it seemed familiar. She remembered purchasing that exact box to store her pregnancy test results. On Lucas's birthday, she had intended to present it to him as a gift, but he had accidentally pushed her before she could give it to him, resulting in her hospitalization. Her heart leaped as she turned to face Helen's livid expression. 'Could she know about the pregnancy? But something about her reaction seems strange,' she wondered. For three years, Helen had made no secret of her disapproval of Sophia, someone raised in a small town. Yet every time Sophia visited the Westwood residence with Lucas, Helen would consistently nag Sophia about starting a family soon. If Helen knew Sophia was pregnant, she was supposed to be absolutely delighted instead of reacting like this. Helen clutched a medical report, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared down Sophia. "For three years, I've watched your marriage to Lucas, wondering why you never conceived. Now I understand—he married a barren woman. "If you hadn't left this at the hotel and Lucas's friend hadn't been kind enough to deliver it, I'd still be in the dark about your condition." Heart pounding with shock, Sophia ignored Helen's murderous gaze and snatched the document from her hand. The clinical report lay cold and pale in the morning light. There was her name, clearly printed, alongside the devastating diagnosis: "permanent infertility." 'Permanent infertility? But that's impossible. I'm pregnant. Someone must have switched my test results. But who would do such a thing?' Sophia wondered. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "This isn't my..." Emily, who had remained silent until now, suddenly interrupted, "Sophia, the Westwood lineage has been passed down through a single heir for ten generations. Are you trying to ensure Lucas dies without an heir? To extinguish the family line completely?" "How utterly heartless!" Helen exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Sophia as her anger reached its peak. "We've welcomed you with open arms since you married into this family. Yet you've been hiding this from us? To think you'd let our family line die out—it's truly despicable!" she added. Sophia didn't even attempt to explain herself. If they wanted to believe she was barren, so be it—it would only simplify the divorce proceedings. "I only received the results two days ago. I hadn't found the right moment to share the news," Sophia replied, her voice calm. "This wasn't about finding the right moment. You did this intentionally," Helen retorted, her face contorted with rage. "And you planned to give this to Lucas as a gift? What kind of twisted mind would conceive such a thing?" Sophia maintained her silence. Helen took a measured breath, forcing her anger down. "If you can't conceive naturally, I won't hold it against you. I've spoken with Emily, and she's agreed to donate her eggs so you and Lucas can pursue in vitro fertilization." Sophia stared in disbelief at the unexpected turn. "Could you repeat that?" She believed she had misheard because the suggestion was both preposterous and deeply offensive. "If you can't conceive, that's your problem. Emily is being extraordinarily generous by offering her eggs. The least you could do is show some appreciation instead of this ingratitude," Helen sneered. A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. "Perhaps you'd like to accept this generous offer yourself?" "How dare you speak to me like that!" Helen's eyes flashed with fury. "Sophia, you shouldn't speak to Mrs. Westwood that way. She was suggesting that for your sake," Emily said in a honeyed tone, reaching for the glass. As she moved, she made certain to display the prayer beads circling her delicate wrist. Sophia's breath caught—she would recognize the bracelet anywhere. That was the very ones she had sacrificed so much to obtain while praying for Lucas's recovery. It felt like a personal insult, seeing the bracelet that symbolized her love for Lucas now clasped around Emily's wrist. "For my sake?" Sophia repeated, the words tasting bitter as she caught the sly glint of satisfaction in Emily's eyes. It sent a sharp ache through her. She knew this game all too well. Emily had a gift for twisting people's vulnerabilities to her advantage, a lesson Sophia had learned the hard way three years ago. "I'm infertile. What possible use could I have for your eggs?" Sophia asked, her voice cold. "Do you really think I need a constant reminder of what I can't have?" Emily's smile vanished. For Helen's benefit, she bit her lip, her eyes instantly welling with feigned hurt. "Mrs. Westwood," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "I was only trying to help Sophia." Helen immediately comforted Emily by patting her hand. She then shot Sophia a disapproving look. "How can you be so selfish, Sophia? Are you really determined to let the Westwood family line die out?" Sophia gestured dismissively toward Emily. "Well, if she's so fertile, let her handle the baby-making." The thought of Emily getting to be a mother the easy way turned Sophia's stomach. Chapter 4 Take Back Her Things The color drained from both Helen's and Emily's faces. Helen stepped forward, jabbing a finger toward Sophia. "You think you're better than us? Then you give the Westwood family an heir. Don't blame anyone else for your own useless womb." Sophia bit back the sharp retort on her tongue. She was done with this family, done with Lucas. Arguing now would only prolong the inevitable. "Mrs. Westwood," she began, "I've decided—" Lucas's familiar, deep voice cut through the tension from the doorway. "Decided what?" Sophia turned to see Lucas standing there, his clothes rumpled from travel. His assistant, Kevin, hovered behind him with a suitcase in hand. The air in the room was thick with tension, so Kevin knew better than to stay. He simply left the suitcase by the door and made a quick exit. Loosening his tie, Lucas turned to Helen. "Mom, what brings you here?" "If I hadn't come, you'd have let our family name die out," Helen shot back. She then snatched the medical report from Sophia and flung it at Lucas's chest. "See for yourself," she said coldly, and with that, she swept out of the room. Lucas looked down at the document in his hands, and the words "permanent infertility" caused a faint twitch in his brow. His eyes, when they finally lifted to meet Sophia's, were devoid of warmth. "You'll go back to the hospital tomorrow for a full work-up. I will not have a wife who can't give me an heir." A hollow ache spread through Sophia's chest. Any foolish hope she'd been clinging to finally faded. Lucas had never defended her in three years of his mother's constant belittlement. And now, the ease with which he believed this lie revealed the chilling truth of his character. "I have the divorce papers right here," Sophia said, pulling the documents from her bag. She extended them toward him, her voice steady. "Just sign them, and you'll never have to see me again." Lucas didn't even look at the papers. In one swift motion, his hand closed around her throat, pulling her close. He leaned in until his face was mere inches from hers, and she could feel his warm breath and smell the familiar scent of his cologne. There was a time when this closeness would have made her heart flutter. Now, it only made her skin crawl. It was amazing how easy it was to walk away when all the love had drained away. "Sophia, have I been too soft with you?" Lucas's voice was thick with contempt. "Where exactly do you think you'll go without my protection?" She held his gaze without flinching. "That's really none of your concern anymore." "Still got that sharp tongue," he sneered. He released her with a dismissive shove, as if her defiance meant nothing. "Go make me dinner. I'm hungry." A wave of pain shot through Sophia's lower abdomen as she sank into the sofa, her skin turning clammy with an instant, cold sweat. Across the room, Emily slid her arm through Lucas's with practiced ease. "Don't let Sophia bother you," she murmured. "Her little scene was just a cry for your attention." Lucas pulled his tie free, his stern expression melting away as he focused on Emily. "How are you holding up?" he asked, his tone gentler. "I'm fine," she sighed, putting on a pitiful face. "It's just that the medicine is so awfully bitter." "It's bitter because it's strong. You need to keep taking it," he reminded her. "I picked up those candies you like. They're in my suitcase. Go get them yourself." "I know you always look out for me," Emily said, stretching up to press a light kiss to Lucas's cheek. "Consider that your reward." A look of quiet satisfaction crossed his features at the gesture. "I'm going up to shower," he said. "Go ahead," Emily said sweetly, fluttering a wave at him. She waited until Lucas's footsteps faded up the staircase before turning to the suitcase. They carried on as if Sophia weren't standing right there in the same room. Humming cheerfully, Emily unzipped the luggage. Alongside Lucas's neatly folded clothes sat a jar of shimmering candies and an elegant red velvet box that clearly held something valuable. Her eyes skipped over the candy, going straight to the velvet box. When she lifted the lid, a pink diamond necklace lay gleaming, its facets scattering rainbows in the light. "Oh, it's exquisite. I love it," she whispered, her eyes widening. "So the candy was just a decoy. This necklace is what he really wanted me to find." Draping the necklace against her collarbone, Emily turned to face Sophia, who had risen from the sofa. "Well, Sophia? Don't you think it suits me perfectly?" The pink diamond necklace around Emily's neck struck Sophia as oddly familiar. It came to her a moment later—she had coveted it last month while flipping through a magazine. Lucas had seen her fascination and promised to get it for her. The catch was its exclusivity—a single piece, sourced from Melaria, the country where Lucas had been attending to business. "That was for me," Sophia said, her voice calm. The man was disposable, but her possessions were not. She would reclaim what was rightfully hers. With a swift motion, Emily clasped the necklace. "Finders keepers," she said with a mocking grin. Sophia approached for a closer look. Though the necklace was more exquisite than its photograph, any desire for it had vanished. A wary look crossed Emily's face. "What is this about?" "To take what belongs to me, of course," Sophia said, stepping close and extending her hand. "It's time you returned it." Emily's hands instinctively flew to the diamond necklace at her throat. "Lucas will never stand for this, Sophia. You know what I mean to him." Sophia almost laughed. She knew well that Emily held a special place in Lucas's heart. But that was irrelevant. She was only claiming what was hers. "Give the bracelet back to me," Sophia said coldly. It was a token earned through true devotion, and she wouldn't let its significance be tarnished. Realizing Sophia only wanted the simple bracelet, Emily smiled condescendingly. 'Some shortsighted people have no taste,' she thought. Emily twisted the bracelet around her wrist. "I heard you went to Grace Abbey to beg for this good-luck charm," she said. "You are so hung up on him, aren't you?" The hypocrisy of her words was almost laughable. "Give it back," Sophia said, her voice like ice. Emily's eyes flickered to a point behind Sophia, and a sly smile touched her lips. She lowered her voice. "If you want it so badly, why don't you come and take it?" Sophia didn't stop to think. She grabbed Emily's wrist and tugged the bracelet free. The moment it was off, Emily's demeanor shifted completely. "Sophia, what are you doing?" she cried out, her voice suddenly loud and panicked. "Lucas gave this to me." Before Sophia could even turn around, a powerful hand seized her by the collar and hauled her backwards. The fabric dug sharply into her throat, stealing her breath. Stumbling to regain her footing, Sophia looked up to see Lucas. He was already cradling Emily. "Emily, are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern. Emily buried her face in his chest. "I'm fine," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Please, don't be angry with Sophia. She didn't mean it." Lucas's jaw tightened, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. He took a deep breath and fixed Sophia with an icy stare. "Apologize to Emily." Chapter 5 She Wants A Clean Break A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. She had fooled herself into thinking she was numb to Lucas's coldness. But his command still sent a fresh, sharp pain through her chest. She knew there was no point arguing with a man who had already chosen the other woman's side. "I won't apologize," Sophia said, her fist closing tightly around the bracelet. "What for?" Emily looked up at Lucas with well-practiced vulnerability. "I'm causing trouble here, Lucas. I should go." Lucas caught her wrist before she could take a second step. "You're staying right here." His attention snapped back to Sophia, his expression darkening. "Now, Sophia, apologize to Emily." The room blurred as tears filled Sophia's eyes, twisting his familiar face into a stranger's. She lifted the simple bracelet between them. "This is my stuff in the first place. Since when is taking back what was stolen a crime?" "Your stuff? Since when do you have anything of your own?" Lucas's lips curled in a sneer. "I've paid for every stitch of clothing on your back." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, forcing a bitter laugh from her lips. He knew perfectly well she earned her own living, yet he took every opportunity to demean her. "This bracelet came from Grace Abbey," she countered, her voice trembling. "You didn't pay a cent for it." Lucas's eyes dropped to the simple beads in her palm. "You think I care about some cheap bracelet?" he scoffed. Hot tears streamed down Sophia's face without warning. Wiping them away, Sophia made a silent vow—this would be the last time he reduced her to this. "Fine!" With one sharp motion, she snapped the bracelet's cord, sending beads skittering across the floor. Lucas watched the scattered beads come to rest, his hand curling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. He knew how much that bracelet meant to her, but the moment Emily wanted it, he didn't hesitate to take it off and hand it over. Lucas's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "Sophia!" "I want a divorce," Sophia said, her voice eerily calm. As she opened her hand, the last bead from the bracelet clattered onto the floor between them. "Let's just end this." The sound was small, but in the tense silence, it was deafening, echoing in Lucas's mind. He let out a short laugh, his gaze locked on her. "You think a threat will work? You should know better than that by now." 'This has to be a ploy,' he thought to himself. 'She loves me too much to go through with it. She has accepted her role as Emily's replacement from the beginning and has never once tried to leave. 'She would never have the strength to walk away from me.' "Go make us something to eat, and we can forget this ever happened." Lucas was certain he had thrown Sophia a lifeline. He waited, fully expecting her to be overcome with relief and scurry off to the kitchen. He'd been away on business, and days of unfamiliar rich food had left his stomach unsettled. What he craved was Sophia's cooking—simple, hearty food that tasted like home. It was a flavor he couldn't find anywhere else. "You can go eat your ass," Sophia shot back. She picked up her bag, her lips twisting into a scornful smile, and walked out without a backward glance. That smile grated on Lucas's nerves more than the insult itself. In his frustration, his eyes fell on the string of prayer beads lying scattered on the floor, and he gave them an impatient kick. 'So that's her game. She wants to challenge me? I'd like to see just how long her resolve will hold,' he thought, fuming. ***** Sophia sped away from Nightfall Estate, her phone buzzing relentlessly on the passenger seat. Lucas's name flashed across the screen again and again until she finally grabbed it and blocked his number for good. When she looked up at the road, she blinked, her vision blurring for a moment. She braced for the familiar sting of tears, but when her fingers touched her skin, it was dry. It was only then that she noticed the soft patter against the windshield. A fine drizzle had begun to fall, and a quiet melancholy settled over her, as gray as the sky. Up ahead, the flickering hazard lights of a sleek black car broke the rhythm of the rain. A man in a soaked suit, looking to be in his forties, stood beside it, waving frantically at passing traffic. Almost without conscious thought, Sophia found herself flipping on her turn signal and pulling over. She rolled down her window as the man rushed over. "Everything okay?" she asked. "It's my boss," the man said, his voice tight with panic. "He's having a heart attack. The ambulance is stuck in a multi-car accident. Please, can you take us to the hospital?" Sophia hesitated. Letting two strange men into her car, especially in this weather, felt dangerous. Every cautionary tale she'd ever heard flashed through her mind. Seeing her hesitation, the man added urgently, "I promise we're not dangerous. My boss is—" But Sophia was already moving, cutting the engine and stepping out into the downpour. "Just get him to my car, now," she called out as she rushed toward their vehicle. As she got closer, she recognized the distinctive emblem of the black Maybach. Working together, they carefully transferred the elderly man from the luxury sedan into Sophia's more modest car. The old man's lips were tinged with blue, and each ragged breath seemed like a struggle, clear signs of his critical condition. Sliding behind the wheel, Sophia started the car and pulled back onto the road, pushing through the veils of rain. In the backseat, the middle-aged man was a whirlwind of activity on his phone, coordinating with a hospital and alerting the family. Beyond the windows, the storm seemed to intensify, as if trying to match the urgency inside the car. After ensuring everything was in place, the man turned to Sophia with heartfelt appreciation. "You're the only one who stopped in this downpour. We can't thank you enough." A warm smile touched Sophia's lips. "Some things are just meant to be." ***** Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital entrance where medical staff stood ready. The team swiftly transferred the elderly man to a stretcher and hurried him inside for emergency care. Just as Sophia was about to drive away, she spotted a lone leather shoe in the backseat—the one the elderly man had been wearing. After a moment's hesitation, she parked properly and carried the shoe to the reception desk, logging it as a lost item. Sophia was just turning to leave when a group emerged from the hospital's main entrance. At the front of the group was a man whose height and posture commanded attention. He turned his sharp gaze on her, and the intensity in his eyes was so commanding that it felt like a physical pressure. 'That frown means trouble,' Sophia thought. She averted her gaze and continued walking, brushing past the group without a second look. It wasn't until she was back in the driver's seat that she felt the chill of her wet clothes clinging to her skin. As she dried her hair with a towel from the backseat, a notification popped up on her phone while she was opening the navigation app. It was a post from Emily: [Nothing says 'forever' like a soft-boiled egg made with love! My ultimate comfort food.] The post featured two photos—one showed a soft-boiled egg with a ketchup heart, and the other captured a tall man's back as he stood at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Sophia couldn't help but compare. When she was with Lucas, he had acted like even pouring her a glass of water was a significant concession. Cooking a meal was utterly out of the question. The fact that he was now cooking for Emily spoke volumes about where his true affections lay. She closed the page and entered her apartment address into the navigation system before driving out of the parking lot. As she watched the heavy rain outside, a single decisive thought crystallized in her mind—this marriage was over. Chapter 6 Return The Trash To The Dumpster That evening, a text came through from Annabelle Quinn, Sophia's best friend since college, insisting they go out to a lounge. The old Sophia would have declined immediately, conditioned to obey Lucas's rule about her not going out. But now that Sophia was divorcing him, his opinions held no weight. ***** The moment Sophia stepped out of the car, she saw Annabelle waiting by the entrance. "Hope you haven't been waiting long," she said as she approached. "Just got here," Annabelle grinned, looping her arm through Sophia's. "So, what's the special occasion? Did you finally get a night off from your sweetheart?" Sophia struggled to find the words, but she couldn't keep it from her best friend. "I'm getting a divorce," she finally said. "Let me guess," Annabelle said, not one to mince words in front of her best friend. "This is about Emily being back, isn't it?" "It's not just that," Sophia admitted, her voice quiet. It just took seeing the difference for herself to truly see how little her three years of effort had meant. Annabelle threw a supportive arm around Sophia's shoulders. "You should have woken up to this a long time ago." For three years, she had watched Sophia lose herself in a hollow relationship, and it killed Annabelle to see her friend throw everything away for a man who never appreciated her. "Better late than never," Sophia offered with a weak smile. "Damn right it is," Annabelle declared. "Tonight, I'm getting us the best male models in town. You deserve some real attention." They ascended into the pulsating heart of the club, pushing through the glittering crowd toward the exclusive booth Annabelle had booked. As they moved past the entrance to a private booth, a burst of laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway. Amid the noise, Sophia's own name caught her sharp ear. "Got to hand it to Lucas. The minute Emily was back, he moved her right in. Word is, he showed Sophia the door." "Well, she had it coming. Play the simp, and you lose it all. Seriously though, that night in the booth with all the blood? I truly thought a tragedy had occurred, but it was probably just her period." "You're thinking about that? Man, have you had a thing for Sophia all along?" "Who'd pine after some nobody from a backwater? Only Lucas, with his unique preferences, would stick around for three years." "Guess the novelty wore off. Time for a change." Standing in the hallway, Sophia felt a cold stillness settle behind her eyes. The voices clicked into place—Lucas's oldest friends. They had been there that night, spectators to her most shameful moment. Annabelle's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind." But as she moved toward the door, Sophia stopped her with a gentle hand. "This is my battle to fight," Sophia said firmly. With that, Sophia pushed the door open and swept into the room. She settled gracefully onto the sofa, joining their conversation with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you're talking about unique preferences, I top him," she began, her voice deceptively light, "I recycled what Emily threw away. But it looks like I did everyone a favor by returning the trash to the dumpster where it belongs." A stunned silence fell over the room. Every face on the circular sofa stared at her in horrified fascination. Unbeknownst to Sophia, two figures had entered the room behind her during her speech. The guests' eyes darted nervously between Sophia and the newcomers, the air thickening with tension. There stood Lucas and Emily, their expressions dark as storm clouds. Their presence made Sophia turn. Her eyes instantly met the cold, dark stare of Lucas. But she didn't back down. A defiant shrug lifted her shoulders. "Look what the cat dragged in. My trash husband." Emily's eyes instantly glistened with tears. "Sophia, ignore them," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "It's all lies. Lucas and I are just friends." As if to prove her point, she clutched Lucas's arm. "Tell her, Lucas. Make her understand there's nothing going on between us." Sophia's gaze dropped to the hand clinging to Lucas's arm, and a faint, derisive smile touched her mouth. 'Just friends? Did she really expect anyone to believe that?' she thought bitterly. Lucas detached himself from Emily's grip and closed the distance between him and Sophia. The motion broke the tension, stirring his friends into action. "Hey, Lucas, take it easy," one of them said, stepping forward. "She's just reacting to our stupid jokes." "Come on, Sophia, just say you're sorry to Lucas," another one urged. "You know he'll forgive you." The suggestion made Sophia want to laugh bitterly. 'Is this really how they see me? As some lovesick fool who'd come crawling back at the first sign of forgiveness?' she thought. It explained everything—why, for three years, they had shown her phony respect as Lucas's wife while mocking her devotion in private. She had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn't met Lucas seven years ago, if that fateful incident hadn't tied her to him, she would have moved on with her life long ago. "Are you quite done?" Lucas's voice cut through her thoughts as he reached for her arm. She shifted her weight gracefully, letting his hand close on empty air. The rejected gesture hung between them for a beat too long before he withdrew, his features tightening with displeasure. Turning to Emily, who was now dabbing at her eyes, Sophia arched a brow. "There's no need for the waterworks. You're making it look like I'm the one being cruel here." "Sophia, I've treated you like my elder sister. I—" Emily began, trying to defend herself. "Don't," Sophia interrupted, her voice cool. "We arrived minutes apart, and you were first. Let's skip the emotional act." Emily's face turned from pale to deep red as she clenched her jaw in fury. 'Since when has Sophia found this kind of nerve? She used to shrink into silence whenever Lucas was near,' she thought. Despite her three-year absence from the city, Emily had ensured she received every scrap of information about Sophia's life. She knew all about Sophia's pathetic attempts to please Lucas, and she knew exactly how little he cared for his wife. She even knew they kept separate bedrooms, and that on the occasional night Lucas spent with Sophia, he always sent her back to her own room afterward. She knew that to Lucas, Sophia was just a body—convenient, disposable, and utterly unimportant. With a dark expression, Lucas grabbed Sophia's wrist and began pulling her toward the exit. Sophia's answer was a sharp, stinging slap across his cheek. The sound cracked through the air, and a dead silence fell over the room. All eyes were fixed on Sophia in pure shock. Everyone was wondering if she had lost her mind to dare something like that. Lucas slowly worked his jaw, the look in his eyes so dark that it promised retribution. When Sophia resisted, Lucas didn't hesitate. He swept her up onto his shoulder and carried her out of the room. The sight made Emily's heart clench. She'd never seen Lucas be so patient with anyone. Before she knew it, her hand was on his arm. "Lucas..." He didn't turn his head, but some of the tension left his expression. "I'm taking her home," he said firmly. "The driver will return for you when you're ready." Emily could only watch as Lucas walked away with Sophia. She had no right to stop him, but it stung—this was the first time he'd ever left her for another woman, especially one who meant nothing. Her hands tightened at her sides. 'I gave you a chance to walk away quietly, Sophia. You brought this on yourself,' she thought. Sophia's protests echoed down the hallway as she struggled against Lucas's hold. Unsure what was happening between the couple, Annabelle turned away, pretending she hadn't noticed them. Lucas carried Sophia into the elevator and stepped out briskly when it reached the basement level. As the car door opened, Lucas tossed Sophia into the back seat. Struggling upright, she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea from the prolonged time she'd spent upside down. She opened her mouth to curse, but the words died on her lips as the tinted window of a nearby Maybach began to descend. In the shadowy interior, the man's profile was sharp and forbidding. His lips were set in a firm line, and he sat with the imposing stillness of an iceberg, his presence pushing others away. Sensing her gaze, he glanced over, and their eyes locked. Without a word, Sophia averted her gaze and hid her face behind a veil of tangled hair. Chapter 7 Not Her Home Anymore Lucas's black Bentley pulled out of the underground parking garage, but Sophia was still lost in thought about those intense eyes. There was something familiar about them, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen them before. Lucas's voice broke the silence. "Did you follow me here? What are you so concerned about?" "What?" Sophia asked, snapping back to reality. Keeping his eyes on the road, Lucas tried to explain. "You know how my friends are—they never think before they speak. Don't take their words seriously. There's nothing going on between Emily and me." 'If there's really nothing between them, why was he being so protective? He only rushed me out because he was worried I might cause a scene and embarrass Emily,' Sophia thought. "Sure," Sophia said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You and Emily are completely innocent." "I'm trying to explain myself here," Lucas said, his patience wearing thin. "Do you have to be so sarcastic?" Her ungrateful attitude was beginning to irritate him. He remembered how she used to soften at the slightest reassurance. Now, it seemed her patience had worn thin. "Understood," Sophia said, her tone flat. "Is that all?" "I've been clear from the beginning—you are my wife, and that won't change. But if you want this marriage to work, you need to drop your little tricks. I won't play these games." Sophia stayed quiet, struck by his assumption that her mention of divorce was merely a plea for attention. Her silence tightened the air between them. "Don't become someone I resent, Sophia," he said with a frown, his voice low. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips as she turned toward the window, shutting him out completely. Sensing he had pushed too far, Lucas eased his tone. "I had your things moved back to our room. If you want to stay with me, just say so. There's no need for all this." Sophia was left speechless. ***** As the car came to a stop in the courtyard of Nightfall Estate, Sophia stepped out. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the cherry blossom grove in the garden. The sight sent a sharp pang through her chest. She forced her gaze away and continued into the villa. Inside, the decor had been completely redone. The new style, with its unmistakable resemblance to the Evans residence, clearly revealed who had overseen the renovations. She moved through rooms that felt entirely alien to her now, but she kept her thoughts to herself since this was no longer her home. Wendy looked surprised when she saw Sophia. "Mrs. Westwood, you've returned. Have you had your supper?" Sinking into the plush pink sofa, Sophia answered quietly, "Yes, thank you." Wendy offered a tight smile before retreating to her quarters to make a hurried phone call to Helen, reporting the unexpected arrival. Helen had never approved of Sophia, whom she saw as a plain nobody not good enough for her son. The infertility diagnosis hardened Helen's resolve to rush the divorce so Lucas could marry someone worthy of giving her grandchildren. The news of Sophia's sudden return after her dramatic departure kept Helen tossing and turning all night. Lucas had been certain Sophia would confront him about the complete makeover of their home. He stood ready to smooth things over, but she walked through the rooms without comment, her silence leaving him more unsettled than any argument would have. "If the decor isn't to your taste..." Lucas moved to sit beside her, his arms beginning to encircle her. Sophia reached for a throw pillow, tucking it between them as she shifted away from his embrace. The gentle rejection stung, though Lucas reassured himself that this was the same woman who had always adored him. "It's true. I prefer my original choices," she said calmly. "Can you have everything returned to how it was?" The warm, elegant furnishings had vanished, replaced by the overwhelming pinks that Emily favored—a transformation that had turned their home into something resembling a kitschy boutique hotel. Lucas shifted uncomfortably. "Let's not make a big deal out of it. You'll get used to the way things are around here." A faint, knowing smile curved on Sophia's lips as she met his gaze. That smile never failed to get under his skin. "Try to see it from her perspective, Sophia," he said, his voice tightening. "After everything she's been through these past three years, all Emily wants is to feel like she belongs." A wave of exhaustion washed over her. It was like talking to a brick wall. "I know," she said flatly. "You have your entire family backing you up," Lucas shot back, his patience clearly wearing thin. "But Emily? She has nobody else. Is it really so hard for you to be a little more compassionate?" "Funny," Sophia replied, her tone icy. "I was under the impression my adoptive parents were still very much alive." Besides, the Evans family had never once ceased to think about Emily throughout those three years. They made trip after trip to Felarica to celebrate Emily's birthdays and attend her parties. They even missed Sophia's wedding to Lucas because of her. A single social media post from Emily, complaining of her loneliness in Felarica, was all it took for them to drop everything and fly to her side. "Now that you've made it out of that dead-end town, you should be the last person to let Emily sink into it," he shot back. As Sophia looked at him, the last glimmer of hope in her eyes vanished. She knew well enough to stop mentioning divorce. To Lucas, it was just another act—proof that she was the same desperate woman the world thought her to be. If she couldn't get through to Lucas, she was going to find another path. Now, with her infertility diagnosis, she knew Helen would be far more impatient to act on this news. Sophia retreated to the master bedroom. Her possessions had claimed their space, with her clothes occupying half of the vast closet. A sense of normalcy had finally settled between her and Lucas, the kind that belongs to a husband and wife. But it was a fragile peace, already beginning to fray. Lucas was still in the living room when Emily returned. The air around her carried the sharp tang of liquor. Her face was deeply flushed, and she swayed slightly as she walked. He was at her side in an instant, his hand gently steadying her. "You've had far too much to drink," he murmured, his brow furrowed with worry. "This isn't good for you. I don't want to see you like this again." Emily turned into him, her arms finding their way around his neck. "I couldn't help it," she whispered, her voice thick with drink and emotion. "It's the only thing that dulls the ache." Sensing her legs might give way, he simply gathered her into his arms. "Wendy," he said to the housekeeper who had appeared, heading for the stairs. "Would you bring up some electrolyte water for Emily?" "Understood," Wendy replied. Playing the part of the drunken mess, Emily clung to Lucas and sobbed into his chest. "I've always regretted it," she cried. "Letting my pride push you away was the biggest mistake of my life." A long-buried tenderness tugged at Lucas's heart. "Let's try again, Lucas. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice," she whispered, tilting her face up to his. Just as their lips were about to meet, the master bedroom door swung open, and the sudden movement startled the couple in the hallway. Sophia stood in the doorway in her pajamas, watching them with a completely expressionless face. Lucas instantly snapped back to reality, and a rare look of panic flashed across his handsome face. "Sophie, Emily is drunk," he said quickly. "I'm just taking her back to her room." Still draped around him, Emily met Sophia's eyes over Lucas's shoulder. The tears were gone, replaced by a cool, triumphant smirk that held no trace of intoxication. Sophia's mouth curved into a humorless smile as she replied, "Yes, and you're drunk too." Without another word, she stepped back and slammed the door, the turn of the lock echoing decisively behind her. The idea of sleeping next to Lucas made her blood boil. She honestly didn't trust herself to lie beside him all night without her rage getting the better of her. Chapter 8 Divorce Settlement The next morning, as Sophia left her room, the guest room door across the hall opened at the exact same time. Lucas was stepping out, finishing with his tie. He glanced up and went completely still, finding Sophia already watching him from their bedroom doorway. Surprise flashed across his face, and he started with an explanation. "She was a mess last night," he said, his voice low. "I couldn't just leave her." Sophia's eyes dropped to the bright red smudge on his collar. Her eyes were filled with silent scorn as she thought about how filthy it was. She said with icy calm, "Relax, I know perfectly well that nothing would ever happen between you two, even when you don't have a stitch of clothing on." Her words cut off whatever excuse Lucas was about to offer. Anger darkened his features. "Think what you want," he snapped. "My feelings for her are purely brotherly." Sophia's eyes fell to the lipstick stain on his collar again. "So, how does it feel to be so close to your 'sister'?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Following her line of sight, Lucas saw the evidence, and a shadow of guilt crossed his face. "It was an accident," he insisted, his voice tight. "Don't make it sound so sordid." "So filthy," she murmured, shaking her head. As he drew a sharp breath to retaliate, she added with a cold smile, "I mean your shirt." He stared at her, his expression turning to stone. She merely offered a careless shrug and walked away, leaving him fuming in the hallway. Downstairs, Sophia was halfway through her breakfast when her phone vibrated on the table. A quick glance at the screen confirmed it was Helen calling. Just then, Wendy appeared with two additional breakfast plates. Sophia swiped to answer the call, a deliberate smile directed at Wendy. "You're calling so early, Mrs. Westwood." The pointed smile made Wendy's blood run cold, and at the mention of Mrs. Westwood, she was reminded of betraying Sophia by reporting to Helen last night. Stricken with guilt, she almost fumbled the tray. She dropped the plates onto the table and hastily retreated to the safety of the kitchen. A faint, cold smile touched Sophia's lips as Helen's venomous voice filled her ear. "Utterly devoid of manners," Helen sneered. "What else can you expect from someone with such a common background?" Sophia's eyes turned to ice. "Trace any lineage back three generations, Mrs. Westwood, and you'll find humble roots. It's distasteful to scorn your own origins." Helen found herself at a loss for words. Though Lucas's parents both had city roots, his grandparents' generation had all struggled in a backwater. Helen's parents had even lived in a cowshed. So in that regard, Helen was no better than Sophia. "That sharp tongue of yours is exactly why people can't stand you," Helen shot back. Sophia rolled her eyes in contempt. Biting back her anger, Helen forced a calmer tone. "We need to meet. There's a document for you to sign." "What kind of document?" "It'll be clear when you get here." Letting the matter drop, Sophia hung up. As she did, she saw Lucas descending the staircase. He had showered and changed, his hair perfectly styled like a model from the pages of a magazine. She had to admit, he was pleasing to look at. 'With those looks, he certainly has the assets for a career as a gigolo,' Sophia thought wryly. A smug feeling warmed Lucas as her eyes stayed on him. He drew out the chair next to hers and sat down. "Paliston Fashion Week is just around the corner," he offered. "It'll be a good chance for us to get away." In three years of marriage, it was the first time he had ever proposed such a thing. Sophia acknowledged him with a quiet hum, but she felt no spark of happiness or expectation. She saw the offer for what it was—a peace offering, born of the guilt he carried after his betrayal. Her ride showed up shortly after breakfast. Picking up her bag, Sophia walked out the door.
Chapter 1 His First Love Returned Sophia Evans could feel her world beginning to crack the moment she heard the news—the woman her husband, Lucas Westwood, had never gotten over was back. When Sophia arrived at the hotel's VIP suite with a gift, she found Lucas's first love—Emily Evans—being humiliated by his childhood friends. "Lick the wine off my shoe, Emily. I'll give you thirty thousand dollars," one of them said. Emily was forced to kneel on the floor, tears in her defiant eyes as she stared shamefully at Lucas. Lucas watched with a dark expression, saying nothing as he held his temper in check. Sophia halted mid-step, struck by the painful familiarity of the scene. Three years ago, when she had first been welcomed into the Evans family, these same privileged young men had tormented her in exactly the same way to gain Emily's favor. But back then, Lucas hadn't worn this expression of utter heartbreak. "There you are," Lucas said as soon as he spotted Sophia, his arm sliding around her waist in a show of intimacy. Only Sophia could feel the desperate pressure of his grip—a silent testament to the pain he was trying to conceal. Lucas's childhood friends had reserved the entire venue for his birthday celebration. But Sophia had never expected Emily to show up here. Everyone knew Lucas had married Sophia just to spite Emily. Three years ago, Emily's identity as a fake heiress was exposed. She broke up with Lucas then and there and left the Evans family behind. Lucas pursued her to the airport, boarded her departing flight, and forced the plane that had already taken off to turn back. Right there on that plane, he proposed to Emily. To his complete surprise, Emily refused without hesitation, declaring that the arranged marriage should be honored by the Evans family's true heiress. Humiliated and acting out of spite, Lucas married Sophia instead. For three years, Sophia had lived as Emily's stand-in. Everyone whispered that if Emily ever returned, Lucas would discard Sophia without a second thought. Sophia had once believed that too, but something had shifted in these past six months—Lucas seemed to be genuinely falling for her. He made grand declarations of love in the press, showered her with luxury homes and cars, and even replaced the cherry tree he'd planted for Emily with a garden full of red roses. In their most tender moments, he'd whisper against her ear, "Let's have a baby, Sophie. I hope they have your smile." Sophia's hand drifted absently to her stomach as she clutched the gift box a little tighter. Inside was a positive pregnancy test—meant to be Lucas's birthday surprise. But now, the timing of the gift felt all wrong. "You still think you're the Evans family princess, Emily? Lucas only has eyes for Sophia now. Why not be with me? A pretty thing like you deserves to be treated right," one of Lucas's friends, Ryan Shaw, sneered. He dragged Emily onto his lap, his hands already roaming over her. "Get your hands off me!" Emily cried, fighting against Ryan's grip as humiliation burned through her. Her resistance only fueled Ryan's excitement. In one swift motion, he shoved her down onto the couch, his powerful body trapping hers. Horrified that Ryan would assault Emily right in front of Lucas, Sophia jumped up to stop him, only to be shoved aside as Lucas already surged into action. As she stumbled, her hands instinctively reached for Lucas's arm, but he brutally shook her off. She hit the floor hard, a jolt of sharp pain shooting from her tailbone straight to her womb. Through the pain-induced haze, she saw Lucas grab Ryan by the collar, drag him off Emily, and pummel his face with brutal, unforgiving fists. "You've overstepped, Ryan. Emily is mine. Even if I discard her, she'll never be yours to touch," Lucas snapped. His words hung in the air, and the entire room fell silent as if frozen in time. Sophia stared at Lucas in disbelief, wondering where she stood in his life now that he had openly claimed Emily as his woman. All eyes in the room were drawn to the scene. Some watched with malicious delight, while others were simply captivated by the unfolding drama. Doubled over in pain, Sophia felt a warm wetness spreading beneath her. Her face paled as a cold dread gripped her heart. "Honey, my stomach hurts," she turned to Lucas instinctively. "Please, take me to the hospital." Without even glancing her way, Lucas removed his jacket and gently placed it around Emily's shoulders. Nestling into his embrace, Emily whispered, her voice trembling, "Lucas, I'm scared. Please take me away from here." "Don't worry," he murmured, holding her close. "I won't let anyone hurt you." Sweeping Emily into his arms, Lucas carried her out of the room, completely ignoring Sophia's pain-racked form shuddering on the floor. Perched comfortably on his shoulder, Emily gazed down at Sophia's crumpled form on the floor, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. The spectators murmured among themselves, still savoring the drama they'd just witnessed. "Emily's definitely the one for Lucas. He hasn't taken his eyes off her all night." "The way Lucas looks at her... I thought it was hatred, but it's clearly something else entirely." "Who could resist someone like her? I certainly wouldn't be able to stay angry." "Poor Sophia. She was just a side character in their love story." At the mention of Sophia's name, the crowd remembered her presence simultaneously, their attention shifting to where she sat. Sophia was in terrible pain and covered in a cold sweat until someone finally noticed her condition and quickly helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?" the guy asked. She gripped his arm tightly as the room spun around her. "Please take me to the hospital. My stomach hurts terribly," she pleaded. Then everything went dark as she fainted. Through the haze of semi-consciousness, distant screams about blood echoed in her ears. When Sophia regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital room. The sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the air as she lay alone in the quiet ward. A nurse tending to her bandages noticed her awakening. "You're awake," she said softly. Sophia's voice came out weak and fearful. "My baby... Is my baby alright?" "Your baby is fine," the nurse reassured her. "But you'll need to take special care. These first few months are particularly delicate in your condition." Relief washed over Sophia as grateful tears fell. "Thank you," she whispered, overwhelmed that her child was safe. Through the emotional turmoil, Sophia's first thought was to share the news with Lucas immediately. Wiping her tears, she reached for her phone and dialed his number. The phone rang several times before Lucas finally picked up. His voice was edged with impatience as he answered, "Not coming home tonight. Don't wait—" "Lucas, my hair's caught in this zipper," Emily's voice interrupted, floating through the line. "Could you give me a hand?" Sophia's knuckles went white around her phone. "Be right there," he said. The call ended before Sophia could form a response. Overnight, things between her and Lucas had reverted to how they were six months ago. Back then, he'd been all cold shoulders and sharp tones. Even in their most intimate moments, he treated her like just another need to be met. To him, she might as well have been a stranger—or worse, just a convenient body. So when he finally let his guard down, she'd been so grateful for the warmth that she fell harder than she ever meant to. She thought her years of longing had finally paid off. But reality slapped her senseless when Lucas chose Emily's safety over their own child's life. After being discharged from the hospital, Sophia caught a taxi home. Midway through the ride, her phone buzzed with a Twitter alert. It was a tweet from Emily: [You told me you'd hold my hand and never let go—not for the rest of our lives.] The attached photo showed Emily dressed like a princess, complete with a tiny crown, her hand locked tightly with a larger, elegant hand. Around the wrist was a bracelet made of prayer beads—the very one Sophia had prayed for in a church last year, when Lucas was burning up with fever. That day, he squeezed her hand and whispered a promise that he would never leave her side. Chapter 2 Ask Him For A Divorce The taxi stopped outside the Nightfall Estate, where Sophia paid the fare and got out of the vehicle. She was just heading inside when a truck carrying young cherry trees rumbled up the drive and stopped near the garden. Workers carefully unloaded the cherry trees and settled them into the prepared holes. Where a vibrant sea of red roses had bloomed just yesterday, now only upturned earth remained, with the plants piled carelessly to the side. A dull ache spread through Sophia's chest as she gazed at the rose petals strewn like crimson tears across the soil. The familiar purr of a luxury car engine approached from behind. Turning around, Sophia saw Lucas step out of the car. He stood tall and straight, radiating a natural air of calm elegance. "Honey..." Sophia began, but the words died on her lips as he leaned back into the car. With gentle care, he helped a woman step out—it was Emily, who looked radiant in an exquisite designer ensemble that made her complexion glow. Only when Emily was steady did Lucas's gaze finally meet Sophia's, those usually warm eyes now regarding her with detached indifference. "Did you need something?" he asked, his tone flat. The cold unfamiliarity in his look struck Sophia's heart like a physical blow. "Why are you tearing out the roses when they were growing so well?" she asked, desperate for his explanation. Those roses had been his special way of confessing his feelings to her. Lucas barely glanced at the destroyed garden. "Emily's not feeling well. She'll be staying with us for a bit." "What does that have to do with the roses?" she pressed. "She's allergic to the pollen," he said curtly, already turning to guide Emily inside. Sophia stood rooted to the spot, her heart breaking. Emily's delicate voice carried through the air. "Lucas, Sophia seems upset. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have complained about the roses." "She doesn't matter to me," Lucas reassured her. "But I worry she'll resent me. Really, I can manage with allergy medication," Emily offered, her voice dripping with false concern. "Medication always has side effects. Don't suggest things that worry me," he replied. Sophia stood motionless as she watched their figures grow smaller in the distance. A silent tear traced its way down her cheek while overwhelming sorrow washed over her. 'I don't matter to him... Yeah, right,' Sophia murmured with bitter irony, the truth of the words settling like a weight in her heart. He hadn't even asked about her absence last night, and now he had ordered her favorite roses to be torn out. The message was clear—she meant less to him than the slightest thought of Emily. For three years, she had devoted herself to him, offering unwavering love and comfort through difficult times. She had believed her constant warmth could thaw even the coldest heart, but Emily's reappearance had erased everything in an instant. She wondered what their intimacy these past six months had truly meant, and what role she had actually played in his life. A sudden twinge in her lower abdomen made her catch her breath. Pale and unsteady, she turned toward the villa. As Sophia stepped into the living room, she saw Emily nestled against Lucas on the sofa, watching with affectionate amusement as he peeled an orange for her. Lucas gently picked away every bit of white pith from the orange segments before arranging them on a plate for Emily. "For you," he said with a soft smile. "Enjoy, my little foodie." As Emily took the plate, she noticed Sophia entering the room. A triumphant smile graced her lips as she called out, "Sophia, would you like some? Lucas peeled these himself. Something you've never experienced, I'm sure." Sophia's gaze fell upon the perfectly prepared orange segments, and she felt a sudden sting behind her eyes. The painful truth was that in all their time together, Lucas had never once peeled an orange for her. She had always been the one serving him. The realization struck her with perfect clarity—Lucas knew well how to be thoughtful, but he simply reserved his kindness for Emily. Sophia felt her heart breaking into pieces as she finally understood how painful comparison could be. "She's perfectly capable of peeling her own fruit," Lucas said dismissively, barely glancing at Sophia. Then he noticed her pale complexion and added, "Are you alright? You look terribly pale." Sophia's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she debated telling Lucas her secret pregnancy. A fragile hope whispered within her—that this truth might finally soften his heart toward her. "I..." Her voice faltered, the words dying on her lips. "If you're ill, see a doctor. This pathetic act is getting tiresome," Lucas said, impatience flashing across his handsome features. He was annoyed by her wounded expression, which seemed to suggest she was the victim of some terrible injustice. Sophia swallowed her unspoken words, her gaze lingering on the man who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. "I'm fine," she murmured. "I'll just go to my room." As she turned toward the staircase, Lucas felt a surge of irritation. 'I must've been too lenient with her, and now she dared to show me attitude,' he thought, fuming. Sophia had only climbed a few steps when the housekeeper, Wendy, appeared descending the stairs with servants carrying boxes. The items looked familiar, but it was the sight of her stuffed doll in Wendy's arms that made Sophia realize everything they carried was hers. In a swift motion, she stepped forward and snatched the doll. Her voice turned icy as she asked, "Wendy, care to explain this?" "Mr. Westwood's orders," Wendy said quietly. "You're to move to the storage room downstairs." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, leaving her mind reeling. She turned to Lucas, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious." They'd already maintained separate bedrooms, but she never imagined that she'd be banished to a storage room instead of even being offered the guest suite after Emily's return. For a fleeting moment under her gaze, Lucas felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly hardened into resolve. "Emily needs the sunroom for her health," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your room gets the best light. It's better for her recovery." The absurdity of it all drew a bitter laugh from Sophia's lips. She thought his previous cruelty—shoving her while pregnant and replacing her roses with Emily's cherry trees—had been the worst it could get. But this new humiliation surpassed even that. All Lucas had done since Emily's return yesterday was talk about her. In just one day, she had turned Sophia's whole life upside down. Sophia expected to feel rage, but instead found only a hollow emptiness settling in her chest. 'Look at him, Sophia,' Sophia thought bitterly. 'This is the man you gave your heart and soul to. Was any of it worth it?' "If you're so worried about her comfort, why not just move her into your room? The master suite gets the best light anyway," Sophia shot back. Lucas responded sharply, "Sophia, you need to watch your tone." Emily's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I know you don't want me here, Sophia. I'll go. Please don't fight with Lucas over me." Sophia saw right through Emily's act. A humorless laugh escaped her as she spat, "You're not going anywhere. I am." Tightening her grip on the stuffed doll, she turned and headed for the door. "Don't you dare, Sophia." Lucas rose to his feet, his voice cutting through the room. "Walk out that door now, and don't expect to ever come back." Sophia's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "I'll make sure you receive the divorce papers," she said, her voice cold and steady. "See that you sign them." "You're asking me for a divorce?" Lucas's voice was low, thick with barely restrained fury. He added, his tone edged with contempt, "Have you forgotten who gave you this life, Sophia? The luxury, the status—all of it came from me. Without my name, you're just that wide-eyed girl fresh off that forgotten little town. You don't get to leave." Chapter 3 The Replaced Medical Result Sophia didn't need to look back to know the condescending smirk that was surely on Lucas's face. She knew he had always despised her. His proposal three years ago had been motivated only by a desire to fulfill the marriage agreement between their families and to exact revenge on Emily. She had been naive enough to believe his empty promises, offering him her genuine love when he saw her as nothing more than a pawn. To him, she would always be a leech, clinging to his wealth and name for survival. But now, she had reached her limit, and she no longer wanted him in her life. Sophia walked out without a backward glance. As she stepped through the gateway, the sound of shattering porcelain echoed behind her, but she no longer cared. Lucas stood amid the shattered remains, fingers pressed to his temples. His face was a mask of simmering anger. He dismissed the mention of divorce as just another one of her calculated moves, a transparent attempt to get his attention by pulling away. Emily watched him hesitantly. "Maybe I shouldn't be staying here, Lucas. Sophia seemed really upset." "It's nothing," Lucas replied evenly. Seeing how the mention of divorce had affected him, she suggested softly, "You could go after her. Women usually respond well to a little reassurance." "I don't have time for that," Lucas said, turning toward the staircase. With a business trip looming, his mind was elsewhere. 'Let her make a scene if she wants to,' he thought. 'She'll cool off and come crawling back. She always does.' ***** Sophia's home was a beautiful 3,200-square-foot apartment with an open-concept layout and sleek modern decor—all paid for with her own earnings. In her study, she printed the divorce papers and a letter resigning from her position. With a steady hand, she signed both, and then summoned a courier to deliver them directly to the Westwood Group. When she married Lucas three years ago, Sophia had joined his company, hoping to build a genuine connection with him. She started at the very bottom as an assistant and gradually earned her way up to department manager. She had wanted nothing more than to be close to him—in their home and at work. But in the end, her efforts were met with cold indifference. Gazing downward, Sophia softly cradled her stomach. "It's just us now, little one," she whispered. The courier arrived at Westwood headquarters while Lucas was away. His chief executive assistant, Kevin Chapman, received the delivery and signed. The moment Kevin saw the contents, he reached for the phone, dialing Lucas's number in haste. "Mr. Westwood, your wife has sent divorce documents." "Burn it all." On the other side of the ocean, Lucas loosened his tie as an unexpected wave of irritation came over him. "But Mrs. Westwood has even submitted her resignation letter..." Kevin replied, his tone hesitant. "She can't survive without this family." The blue flame from Lucas's lighter highlighted the grim set of his features. "Let her be. She'll come crawling back once reality sets in." Meanwhile, Sophia remained completely unaware of his words. Her morning had begun with a call from her mother-in-law, Helen Westwood. "Where are you? Return at once," Helen commanded in her typically imperious manner, leaving no room for discussion. Complying, Sophia drove back to the estate. No sooner had she stepped inside than a velvet box came hurling toward her head, which she narrowly avoided by stepping aside. Helen's shrill voice pierced the air. "How dare you avoid that? You've got some nerve." Sophia's gaze fell upon the velvet box at her feet, and suddenly, she understood why it seemed familiar. She remembered purchasing that exact box to store her pregnancy test results. On Lucas's birthday, she had intended to present it to him as a gift, but he had accidentally pushed her before she could give it to him, resulting in her hospitalization. Her heart leaped as she turned to face Helen's livid expression. 'Could she know about the pregnancy? But something about her reaction seems strange,' she wondered. For three years, Helen had made no secret of her disapproval of Sophia, someone raised in a small town. Yet every time Sophia visited the Westwood residence with Lucas, Helen would consistently nag Sophia about starting a family soon. If Helen knew Sophia was pregnant, she was supposed to be absolutely delighted instead of reacting like this. Helen clutched a medical report, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared down Sophia. "For three years, I've watched your marriage to Lucas, wondering why you never conceived. Now I understand—he married a barren woman. "If you hadn't left this at the hotel and Lucas's friend hadn't been kind enough to deliver it, I'd still be in the dark about your condition." Heart pounding with shock, Sophia ignored Helen's murderous gaze and snatched the document from her hand. The clinical report lay cold and pale in the morning light. There was her name, clearly printed, alongside the devastating diagnosis: "permanent infertility." 'Permanent infertility? But that's impossible. I'm pregnant. Someone must have switched my test results. But who would do such a thing?' Sophia wondered. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "This isn't my..." Emily, who had remained silent until now, suddenly interrupted, "Sophia, the Westwood lineage has been passed down through a single heir for ten generations. Are you trying to ensure Lucas dies without an heir? To extinguish the family line completely?" "How utterly heartless!" Helen exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Sophia as her anger reached its peak. "We've welcomed you with open arms since you married into this family. Yet you've been hiding this from us? To think you'd let our family line die out—it's truly despicable!" she added. Sophia didn't even attempt to explain herself. If they wanted to believe she was barren, so be it—it would only simplify the divorce proceedings. "I only received the results two days ago. I hadn't found the right moment to share the news," Sophia replied, her voice calm. "This wasn't about finding the right moment. You did this intentionally," Helen retorted, her face contorted with rage. "And you planned to give this to Lucas as a gift? What kind of twisted mind would conceive such a thing?" Sophia maintained her silence. Helen took a measured breath, forcing her anger down. "If you can't conceive naturally, I won't hold it against you. I've spoken with Emily, and she's agreed to donate her eggs so you and Lucas can pursue in vitro fertilization." Sophia stared in disbelief at the unexpected turn. "Could you repeat that?" She believed she had misheard because the suggestion was both preposterous and deeply offensive. "If you can't conceive, that's your problem. Emily is being extraordinarily generous by offering her eggs. The least you could do is show some appreciation instead of this ingratitude," Helen sneered. A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. "Perhaps you'd like to accept this generous offer yourself?" "How dare you speak to me like that!" Helen's eyes flashed with fury. "Sophia, you shouldn't speak to Mrs. Westwood that way. She was suggesting that for your sake," Emily said in a honeyed tone, reaching for the glass. As she moved, she made certain to display the prayer beads circling her delicate wrist. Sophia's breath caught—she would recognize the bracelet anywhere. That was the very ones she had sacrificed so much to obtain while praying for Lucas's recovery. It felt like a personal insult, seeing the bracelet that symbolized her love for Lucas now clasped around Emily's wrist. "For my sake?" Sophia repeated, the words tasting bitter as she caught the sly glint of satisfaction in Emily's eyes. It sent a sharp ache through her. She knew this game all too well. Emily had a gift for twisting people's vulnerabilities to her advantage, a lesson Sophia had learned the hard way three years ago. "I'm infertile. What possible use could I have for your eggs?" Sophia asked, her voice cold. "Do you really think I need a constant reminder of what I can't have?" Emily's smile vanished. For Helen's benefit, she bit her lip, her eyes instantly welling with feigned hurt. "Mrs. Westwood," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "I was only trying to help Sophia." Helen immediately comforted Emily by patting her hand. She then shot Sophia a disapproving look. "How can you be so selfish, Sophia? Are you really determined to let the Westwood family line die out?" Sophia gestured dismissively toward Emily. "Well, if she's so fertile, let her handle the baby-making." The thought of Emily getting to be a mother the easy way turned Sophia's stomach. Chapter 4 Take Back Her Things The color drained from both Helen's and Emily's faces. Helen stepped forward, jabbing a finger toward Sophia. "You think you're better than us? Then you give the Westwood family an heir. Don't blame anyone else for your own useless womb." Sophia bit back the sharp retort on her tongue. She was done with this family, done with Lucas. Arguing now would only prolong the inevitable. "Mrs. Westwood," she began, "I've decided—" Lucas's familiar, deep voice cut through the tension from the doorway. "Decided what?" Sophia turned to see Lucas standing there, his clothes rumpled from travel. His assistant, Kevin, hovered behind him with a suitcase in hand. The air in the room was thick with tension, so Kevin knew better than to stay. He simply left the suitcase by the door and made a quick exit. Loosening his tie, Lucas turned to Helen. "Mom, what brings you here?" "If I hadn't come, you'd have let our family name die out," Helen shot back. She then snatched the medical report from Sophia and flung it at Lucas's chest. "See for yourself," she said coldly, and with that, she swept out of the room. Lucas looked down at the document in his hands, and the words "permanent infertility" caused a faint twitch in his brow. His eyes, when they finally lifted to meet Sophia's, were devoid of warmth. "You'll go back to the hospital tomorrow for a full work-up. I will not have a wife who can't give me an heir." A hollow ache spread through Sophia's chest. Any foolish hope she'd been clinging to finally faded. Lucas had never defended her in three years of his mother's constant belittlement. And now, the ease with which he believed this lie revealed the chilling truth of his character. "I have the divorce papers right here," Sophia said, pulling the documents from her bag. She extended them toward him, her voice steady. "Just sign them, and you'll never have to see me again." Lucas didn't even look at the papers. In one swift motion, his hand closed around her throat, pulling her close. He leaned in until his face was mere inches from hers, and she could feel his warm breath and smell the familiar scent of his cologne. There was a time when this closeness would have made her heart flutter. Now, it only made her skin crawl. It was amazing how easy it was to walk away when all the love had drained away. "Sophia, have I been too soft with you?" Lucas's voice was thick with contempt. "Where exactly do you think you'll go without my protection?" She held his gaze without flinching. "That's really none of your concern anymore." "Still got that sharp tongue," he sneered. He released her with a dismissive shove, as if her defiance meant nothing. "Go make me dinner. I'm hungry." A wave of pain shot through Sophia's lower abdomen as she sank into the sofa, her skin turning clammy with an instant, cold sweat. Across the room, Emily slid her arm through Lucas's with practiced ease. "Don't let Sophia bother you," she murmured. "Her little scene was just a cry for your attention." Lucas pulled his tie free, his stern expression melting away as he focused on Emily. "How are you holding up?" he asked, his tone gentler. "I'm fine," she sighed, putting on a pitiful face. "It's just that the medicine is so awfully bitter." "It's bitter because it's strong. You need to keep taking it," he reminded her. "I picked up those candies you like. They're in my suitcase. Go get them yourself." "I know you always look out for me," Emily said, stretching up to press a light kiss to Lucas's cheek. "Consider that your reward." A look of quiet satisfaction crossed his features at the gesture. "I'm going up to shower," he said. "Go ahead," Emily said sweetly, fluttering a wave at him. She waited until Lucas's footsteps faded up the staircase before turning to the suitcase. They carried on as if Sophia weren't standing right there in the same room. Humming cheerfully, Emily unzipped the luggage. Alongside Lucas's neatly folded clothes sat a jar of shimmering candies and an elegant red velvet box that clearly held something valuable. Her eyes skipped over the candy, going straight to the velvet box. When she lifted the lid, a pink diamond necklace lay gleaming, its facets scattering rainbows in the light. "Oh, it's exquisite. I love it," she whispered, her eyes widening. "So the candy was just a decoy. This necklace is what he really wanted me to find." Draping the necklace against her collarbone, Emily turned to face Sophia, who had risen from the sofa. "Well, Sophia? Don't you think it suits me perfectly?" The pink diamond necklace around Emily's neck struck Sophia as oddly familiar. It came to her a moment later—she had coveted it last month while flipping through a magazine. Lucas had seen her fascination and promised to get it for her. The catch was its exclusivity—a single piece, sourced from Melaria, the country where Lucas had been attending to business. "That was for me," Sophia said, her voice calm. The man was disposable, but her possessions were not. She would reclaim what was rightfully hers. With a swift motion, Emily clasped the necklace. "Finders keepers," she said with a mocking grin. Sophia approached for a closer look. Though the necklace was more exquisite than its photograph, any desire for it had vanished. A wary look crossed Emily's face. "What is this about?" "To take what belongs to me, of course," Sophia said, stepping close and extending her hand. "It's time you returned it." Emily's hands instinctively flew to the diamond necklace at her throat. "Lucas will never stand for this, Sophia. You know what I mean to him." Sophia almost laughed. She knew well that Emily held a special place in Lucas's heart. But that was irrelevant. She was only claiming what was hers. "Give the bracelet back to me," Sophia said coldly. It was a token earned through true devotion, and she wouldn't let its significance be tarnished. Realizing Sophia only wanted the simple bracelet, Emily smiled condescendingly. 'Some shortsighted people have no taste,' she thought. Emily twisted the bracelet around her wrist. "I heard you went to Grace Abbey to beg for this good-luck charm," she said. "You are so hung up on him, aren't you?" The hypocrisy of her words was almost laughable. "Give it back," Sophia said, her voice like ice. Emily's eyes flickered to a point behind Sophia, and a sly smile touched her lips. She lowered her voice. "If you want it so badly, why don't you come and take it?" Sophia didn't stop to think. She grabbed Emily's wrist and tugged the bracelet free. The moment it was off, Emily's demeanor shifted completely. "Sophia, what are you doing?" she cried out, her voice suddenly loud and panicked. "Lucas gave this to me." Before Sophia could even turn around, a powerful hand seized her by the collar and hauled her backwards. The fabric dug sharply into her throat, stealing her breath. Stumbling to regain her footing, Sophia looked up to see Lucas. He was already cradling Emily. "Emily, are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern. Emily buried her face in his chest. "I'm fine," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Please, don't be angry with Sophia. She didn't mean it." Lucas's jaw tightened, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. He took a deep breath and fixed Sophia with an icy stare. "Apologize to Emily." Chapter 5 She Wants A Clean Break A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. She had fooled herself into thinking she was numb to Lucas's coldness. But his command still sent a fresh, sharp pain through her chest. She knew there was no point arguing with a man who had already chosen the other woman's side. "I won't apologize," Sophia said, her fist closing tightly around the bracelet. "What for?" Emily looked up at Lucas with well-practiced vulnerability. "I'm causing trouble here, Lucas. I should go." Lucas caught her wrist before she could take a second step. "You're staying right here." His attention snapped back to Sophia, his expression darkening. "Now, Sophia, apologize to Emily." The room blurred as tears filled Sophia's eyes, twisting his familiar face into a stranger's. She lifted the simple bracelet between them. "This is my stuff in the first place. Since when is taking back what was stolen a crime?" "Your stuff? Since when do you have anything of your own?" Lucas's lips curled in a sneer. "I've paid for every stitch of clothing on your back." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, forcing a bitter laugh from her lips. He knew perfectly well she earned her own living, yet he took every opportunity to demean her. "This bracelet came from Grace Abbey," she countered, her voice trembling. "You didn't pay a cent for it." Lucas's eyes dropped to the simple beads in her palm. "You think I care about some cheap bracelet?" he scoffed. Hot tears streamed down Sophia's face without warning. Wiping them away, Sophia made a silent vow—this would be the last time he reduced her to this. "Fine!" With one sharp motion, she snapped the bracelet's cord, sending beads skittering across the floor. Lucas watched the scattered beads come to rest, his hand curling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. He knew how much that bracelet meant to her, but the moment Emily wanted it, he didn't hesitate to take it off and hand it over. Lucas's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "Sophia!" "I want a divorce," Sophia said, her voice eerily calm. As she opened her hand, the last bead from the bracelet clattered onto the floor between them. "Let's just end this." The sound was small, but in the tense silence, it was deafening, echoing in Lucas's mind. He let out a short laugh, his gaze locked on her. "You think a threat will work? You should know better than that by now." 'This has to be a ploy,' he thought to himself. 'She loves me too much to go through with it. She has accepted her role as Emily's replacement from the beginning and has never once tried to leave. 'She would never have the strength to walk away from me.' "Go make us something to eat, and we can forget this ever happened." Lucas was certain he had thrown Sophia a lifeline. He waited, fully expecting her to be overcome with relief and scurry off to the kitchen. He'd been away on business, and days of unfamiliar rich food had left his stomach unsettled. What he craved was Sophia's cooking—simple, hearty food that tasted like home. It was a flavor he couldn't find anywhere else. "You can go eat your ass," Sophia shot back. She picked up her bag, her lips twisting into a scornful smile, and walked out without a backward glance. That smile grated on Lucas's nerves more than the insult itself. In his frustration, his eyes fell on the string of prayer beads lying scattered on the floor, and he gave them an impatient kick. 'So that's her game. She wants to challenge me? I'd like to see just how long her resolve will hold,' he thought, fuming. ***** Sophia sped away from Nightfall Estate, her phone buzzing relentlessly on the passenger seat. Lucas's name flashed across the screen again and again until she finally grabbed it and blocked his number for good. When she looked up at the road, she blinked, her vision blurring for a moment. She braced for the familiar sting of tears, but when her fingers touched her skin, it was dry. It was only then that she noticed the soft patter against the windshield. A fine drizzle had begun to fall, and a quiet melancholy settled over her, as gray as the sky. Up ahead, the flickering hazard lights of a sleek black car broke the rhythm of the rain. A man in a soaked suit, looking to be in his forties, stood beside it, waving frantically at passing traffic. Almost without conscious thought, Sophia found herself flipping on her turn signal and pulling over. She rolled down her window as the man rushed over. "Everything okay?" she asked. "It's my boss," the man said, his voice tight with panic. "He's having a heart attack. The ambulance is stuck in a multi-car accident. Please, can you take us to the hospital?" Sophia hesitated. Letting two strange men into her car, especially in this weather, felt dangerous. Every cautionary tale she'd ever heard flashed through her mind. Seeing her hesitation, the man added urgently, "I promise we're not dangerous. My boss is—" But Sophia was already moving, cutting the engine and stepping out into the downpour. "Just get him to my car, now," she called out as she rushed toward their vehicle. As she got closer, she recognized the distinctive emblem of the black Maybach. Working together, they carefully transferred the elderly man from the luxury sedan into Sophia's more modest car. The old man's lips were tinged with blue, and each ragged breath seemed like a struggle, clear signs of his critical condition. Sliding behind the wheel, Sophia started the car and pulled back onto the road, pushing through the veils of rain. In the backseat, the middle-aged man was a whirlwind of activity on his phone, coordinating with a hospital and alerting the family. Beyond the windows, the storm seemed to intensify, as if trying to match the urgency inside the car. After ensuring everything was in place, the man turned to Sophia with heartfelt appreciation. "You're the only one who stopped in this downpour. We can't thank you enough." A warm smile touched Sophia's lips. "Some things are just meant to be." ***** Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital entrance where medical staff stood ready. The team swiftly transferred the elderly man to a stretcher and hurried him inside for emergency care. Just as Sophia was about to drive away, she spotted a lone leather shoe in the backseat—the one the elderly man had been wearing. After a moment's hesitation, she parked properly and carried the shoe to the reception desk, logging it as a lost item. Sophia was just turning to leave when a group emerged from the hospital's main entrance. At the front of the group was a man whose height and posture commanded attention. He turned his sharp gaze on her, and the intensity in his eyes was so commanding that it felt like a physical pressure. 'That frown means trouble,' Sophia thought. She averted her gaze and continued walking, brushing past the group without a second look. It wasn't until she was back in the driver's seat that she felt the chill of her wet clothes clinging to her skin. As she dried her hair with a towel from the backseat, a notification popped up on her phone while she was opening the navigation app. It was a post from Emily: [Nothing says 'forever' like a soft-boiled egg made with love! My ultimate comfort food.] The post featured two photos—one showed a soft-boiled egg with a ketchup heart, and the other captured a tall man's back as he stood at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Sophia couldn't help but compare. When she was with Lucas, he had acted like even pouring her a glass of water was a significant concession. Cooking a meal was utterly out of the question. The fact that he was now cooking for Emily spoke volumes about where his true affections lay. She closed the page and entered her apartment address into the navigation system before driving out of the parking lot. As she watched the heavy rain outside, a single decisive thought crystallized in her mind—this marriage was over. Chapter 6 Return The Trash To The Dumpster That evening, a text came through from Annabelle Quinn, Sophia's best friend since college, insisting they go out to a lounge. The old Sophia would have declined immediately, conditioned to obey Lucas's rule about her not going out. But now that Sophia was divorcing him, his opinions held no weight. ***** The moment Sophia stepped out of the car, she saw Annabelle waiting by the entrance. "Hope you haven't been waiting long," she said as she approached. "Just got here," Annabelle grinned, looping her arm through Sophia's. "So, what's the special occasion? Did you finally get a night off from your sweetheart?" Sophia struggled to find the words, but she couldn't keep it from her best friend. "I'm getting a divorce," she finally said. "Let me guess," Annabelle said, not one to mince words in front of her best friend. "This is about Emily being back, isn't it?" "It's not just that," Sophia admitted, her voice quiet. It just took seeing the difference for herself to truly see how little her three years of effort had meant. Annabelle threw a supportive arm around Sophia's shoulders. "You should have woken up to this a long time ago." For three years, she had watched Sophia lose herself in a hollow relationship, and it killed Annabelle to see her friend throw everything away for a man who never appreciated her. "Better late than never," Sophia offered with a weak smile. "Damn right it is," Annabelle declared. "Tonight, I'm getting us the best male models in town. You deserve some real attention." They ascended into the pulsating heart of the club, pushing through the glittering crowd toward the exclusive booth Annabelle had booked. As they moved past the entrance to a private booth, a burst of laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway. Amid the noise, Sophia's own name caught her sharp ear. "Got to hand it to Lucas. The minute Emily was back, he moved her right in. Word is, he showed Sophia the door." "Well, she had it coming. Play the simp, and you lose it all. Seriously though, that night in the booth with all the blood? I truly thought a tragedy had occurred, but it was probably just her period." "You're thinking about that? Man, have you had a thing for Sophia all along?" "Who'd pine after some nobody from a backwater? Only Lucas, with his unique preferences, would stick around for three years." "Guess the novelty wore off. Time for a change." Standing in the hallway, Sophia felt a cold stillness settle behind her eyes. The voices clicked into place—Lucas's oldest friends. They had been there that night, spectators to her most shameful moment. Annabelle's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind." But as she moved toward the door, Sophia stopped her with a gentle hand. "This is my battle to fight," Sophia said firmly. With that, Sophia pushed the door open and swept into the room. She settled gracefully onto the sofa, joining their conversation with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you're talking about unique preferences, I top him," she began, her voice deceptively light, "I recycled what Emily threw away. But it looks like I did everyone a favor by returning the trash to the dumpster where it belongs." A stunned silence fell over the room. Every face on the circular sofa stared at her in horrified fascination. Unbeknownst to Sophia, two figures had entered the room behind her during her speech. The guests' eyes darted nervously between Sophia and the newcomers, the air thickening with tension. There stood Lucas and Emily, their expressions dark as storm clouds. Their presence made Sophia turn. Her eyes instantly met the cold, dark stare of Lucas. But she didn't back down. A defiant shrug lifted her shoulders. "Look what the cat dragged in. My trash husband." Emily's eyes instantly glistened with tears. "Sophia, ignore them," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "It's all lies. Lucas and I are just friends." As if to prove her point, she clutched Lucas's arm. "Tell her, Lucas. Make her understand there's nothing going on between us." Sophia's gaze dropped to the hand clinging to Lucas's arm, and a faint, derisive smile touched her mouth. 'Just friends? Did she really expect anyone to believe that?' she thought bitterly. Lucas detached himself from Emily's grip and closed the distance between him and Sophia. The motion broke the tension, stirring his friends into action. "Hey, Lucas, take it easy," one of them said, stepping forward. "She's just reacting to our stupid jokes." "Come on, Sophia, just say you're sorry to Lucas," another one urged. "You know he'll forgive you." The suggestion made Sophia want to laugh bitterly. 'Is this really how they see me? As some lovesick fool who'd come crawling back at the first sign of forgiveness?' she thought. It explained everything—why, for three years, they had shown her phony respect as Lucas's wife while mocking her devotion in private. She had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn't met Lucas seven years ago, if that fateful incident hadn't tied her to him, she would have moved on with her life long ago. "Are you quite done?" Lucas's voice cut through her thoughts as he reached for her arm. She shifted her weight gracefully, letting his hand close on empty air. The rejected gesture hung between them for a beat too long before he withdrew, his features tightening with displeasure. Turning to Emily, who was now dabbing at her eyes, Sophia arched a brow. "There's no need for the waterworks. You're making it look like I'm the one being cruel here." "Sophia, I've treated you like my elder sister. I—" Emily began, trying to defend herself. "Don't," Sophia interrupted, her voice cool. "We arrived minutes apart, and you were first. Let's skip the emotional act." Emily's face turned from pale to deep red as she clenched her jaw in fury. 'Since when has Sophia found this kind of nerve? She used to shrink into silence whenever Lucas was near,' she thought. Despite her three-year absence from the city, Emily had ensured she received every scrap of information about Sophia's life. She knew all about Sophia's pathetic attempts to please Lucas, and she knew exactly how little he cared for his wife. She even knew they kept separate bedrooms, and that on the occasional night Lucas spent with Sophia, he always sent her back to her own room afterward. She knew that to Lucas, Sophia was just a body—convenient, disposable, and utterly unimportant. With a dark expression, Lucas grabbed Sophia's wrist and began pulling her toward the exit. Sophia's answer was a sharp, stinging slap across his cheek. The sound cracked through the air, and a dead silence fell over the room. All eyes were fixed on Sophia in pure shock. Everyone was wondering if she had lost her mind to dare something like that. Lucas slowly worked his jaw, the look in his eyes so dark that it promised retribution. When Sophia resisted, Lucas didn't hesitate. He swept her up onto his shoulder and carried her out of the room. The sight made Emily's heart clench. She'd never seen Lucas be so patient with anyone. Before she knew it, her hand was on his arm. "Lucas..." He didn't turn his head, but some of the tension left his expression. "I'm taking her home," he said firmly. "The driver will return for you when you're ready." Emily could only watch as Lucas walked away with Sophia. She had no right to stop him, but it stung—this was the first time he'd ever left her for another woman, especially one who meant nothing. Her hands tightened at her sides. 'I gave you a chance to walk away quietly, Sophia. You brought this on yourself,' she thought. Sophia's protests echoed down the hallway as she struggled against Lucas's hold. Unsure what was happening between the couple, Annabelle turned away, pretending she hadn't noticed them. Lucas carried Sophia into the elevator and stepped out briskly when it reached the basement level. As the car door opened, Lucas tossed Sophia into the back seat. Struggling upright, she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea from the prolonged time she'd spent upside down. She opened her mouth to curse, but the words died on her lips as the tinted window of a nearby Maybach began to descend. In the shadowy interior, the man's profile was sharp and forbidding. His lips were set in a firm line, and he sat with the imposing stillness of an iceberg, his presence pushing others away. Sensing her gaze, he glanced over, and their eyes locked. Without a word, Sophia averted her gaze and hid her face behind a veil of tangled hair. Chapter 7 Not Her Home Anymore Lucas's black Bentley pulled out of the underground parking garage, but Sophia was still lost in thought about those intense eyes. There was something familiar about them, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen them before. Lucas's voice broke the silence. "Did you follow me here? What are you so concerned about?" "What?" Sophia asked, snapping back to reality. Keeping his eyes on the road, Lucas tried to explain. "You know how my friends are—they never think before they speak. Don't take their words seriously. There's nothing going on between Emily and me." 'If there's really nothing between them, why was he being so protective? He only rushed me out because he was worried I might cause a scene and embarrass Emily,' Sophia thought. "Sure," Sophia said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You and Emily are completely innocent." "I'm trying to explain myself here," Lucas said, his patience wearing thin. "Do you have to be so sarcastic?" Her ungrateful attitude was beginning to irritate him. He remembered how she used to soften at the slightest reassurance. Now, it seemed her patience had worn thin. "Understood," Sophia said, her tone flat. "Is that all?" "I've been clear from the beginning—you are my wife, and that won't change. But if you want this marriage to work, you need to drop your little tricks. I won't play these games." Sophia stayed quiet, struck by his assumption that her mention of divorce was merely a plea for attention. Her silence tightened the air between them. "Don't become someone I resent, Sophia," he said with a frown, his voice low. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips as she turned toward the window, shutting him out completely. Sensing he had pushed too far, Lucas eased his tone. "I had your things moved back to our room. If you want to stay with me, just say so. There's no need for all this." Sophia was left speechless. ***** As the car came to a stop in the courtyard of Nightfall Estate, Sophia stepped out. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the cherry blossom grove in the garden. The sight sent a sharp pang through her chest. She forced her gaze away and continued into the villa. Inside, the decor had been completely redone. The new style, with its unmistakable resemblance to the Evans residence, clearly revealed who had overseen the renovations. She moved through rooms that felt entirely alien to her now, but she kept her thoughts to herself since this was no longer her home. Wendy looked surprised when she saw Sophia. "Mrs. Westwood, you've returned. Have you had your supper?" Sinking into the plush pink sofa, Sophia answered quietly, "Yes, thank you." Wendy offered a tight smile before retreating to her quarters to make a hurried phone call to Helen, reporting the unexpected arrival. Helen had never approved of Sophia, whom she saw as a plain nobody not good enough for her son. The infertility diagnosis hardened Helen's resolve to rush the divorce so Lucas could marry someone worthy of giving her grandchildren. The news of Sophia's sudden return after her dramatic departure kept Helen tossing and turning all night. Lucas had been certain Sophia would confront him about the complete makeover of their home. He stood ready to smooth things over, but she walked through the rooms without comment, her silence leaving him more unsettled than any argument would have. "If the decor isn't to your taste..." Lucas moved to sit beside her, his arms beginning to encircle her. Sophia reached for a throw pillow, tucking it between them as she shifted away from his embrace. The gentle rejection stung, though Lucas reassured himself that this was the same woman who had always adored him. "It's true. I prefer my original choices," she said calmly. "Can you have everything returned to how it was?" The warm, elegant furnishings had vanished, replaced by the overwhelming pinks that Emily favored—a transformation that had turned their home into something resembling a kitschy boutique hotel. Lucas shifted uncomfortably. "Let's not make a big deal out of it. You'll get used to the way things are around here." A faint, knowing smile curved on Sophia's lips as she met his gaze. That smile never failed to get under his skin. "Try to see it from her perspective, Sophia," he said, his voice tightening. "After everything she's been through these past three years, all Emily wants is to feel like she belongs." A wave of exhaustion washed over her. It was like talking to a brick wall. "I know," she said flatly. "You have your entire family backing you up," Lucas shot back, his patience clearly wearing thin. "But Emily? She has nobody else. Is it really so hard for you to be a little more compassionate?" "Funny," Sophia replied, her tone icy. "I was under the impression my adoptive parents were still very much alive." Besides, the Evans family had never once ceased to think about Emily throughout those three years. They made trip after trip to Felarica to celebrate Emily's birthdays and attend her parties. They even missed Sophia's wedding to Lucas because of her. A single social media post from Emily, complaining of her loneliness in Felarica, was all it took for them to drop everything and fly to her side. "Now that you've made it out of that dead-end town, you should be the last person to let Emily sink into it," he shot back. As Sophia looked at him, the last glimmer of hope in her eyes vanished. She knew well enough to stop mentioning divorce. To Lucas, it was just another act—proof that she was the same desperate woman the world thought her to be. If she couldn't get through to Lucas, she was going to find another path. Now, with her infertility diagnosis, she knew Helen would be far more impatient to act on this news. Sophia retreated to the master bedroom. Her possessions had claimed their space, with her clothes occupying half of the vast closet. A sense of normalcy had finally settled between her and Lucas, the kind that belongs to a husband and wife. But it was a fragile peace, already beginning to fray. Lucas was still in the living room when Emily returned. The air around her carried the sharp tang of liquor. Her face was deeply flushed, and she swayed slightly as she walked. He was at her side in an instant, his hand gently steadying her. "You've had far too much to drink," he murmured, his brow furrowed with worry. "This isn't good for you. I don't want to see you like this again." Emily turned into him, her arms finding their way around his neck. "I couldn't help it," she whispered, her voice thick with drink and emotion. "It's the only thing that dulls the ache." Sensing her legs might give way, he simply gathered her into his arms. "Wendy," he said to the housekeeper who had appeared, heading for the stairs. "Would you bring up some electrolyte water for Emily?" "Understood," Wendy replied. Playing the part of the drunken mess, Emily clung to Lucas and sobbed into his chest. "I've always regretted it," she cried. "Letting my pride push you away was the biggest mistake of my life." A long-buried tenderness tugged at Lucas's heart. "Let's try again, Lucas. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice," she whispered, tilting her face up to his. Just as their lips were about to meet, the master bedroom door swung open, and the sudden movement startled the couple in the hallway. Sophia stood in the doorway in her pajamas, watching them with a completely expressionless face. Lucas instantly snapped back to reality, and a rare look of panic flashed across his handsome face. "Sophie, Emily is drunk," he said quickly. "I'm just taking her back to her room." Still draped around him, Emily met Sophia's eyes over Lucas's shoulder. The tears were gone, replaced by a cool, triumphant smirk that held no trace of intoxication. Sophia's mouth curved into a humorless smile as she replied, "Yes, and you're drunk too." Without another word, she stepped back and slammed the door, the turn of the lock echoing decisively behind her. The idea of sleeping next to Lucas made her blood boil. She honestly didn't trust herself to lie beside him all night without her rage getting the better of her. Chapter 8 Divorce Settlement The next morning, as Sophia left her room, the guest room door across the hall opened at the exact same time. Lucas was stepping out, finishing with his tie. He glanced up and went completely still, finding Sophia already watching him from their bedroom doorway. Surprise flashed across his face, and he started with an explanation. "She was a mess last night," he said, his voice low. "I couldn't just leave her." Sophia's eyes dropped to the bright red smudge on his collar. Her eyes were filled with silent scorn as she thought about how filthy it was. She said with icy calm, "Relax, I know perfectly well that nothing would ever happen between you two, even when you don't have a stitch of clothing on." Her words cut off whatever excuse Lucas was about to offer. Anger darkened his features. "Think what you want," he snapped. "My feelings for her are purely brotherly." Sophia's eyes fell to the lipstick stain on his collar again. "So, how does it feel to be so close to your 'sister'?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Following her line of sight, Lucas saw the evidence, and a shadow of guilt crossed his face. "It was an accident," he insisted, his voice tight. "Don't make it sound so sordid." "So filthy," she murmured, shaking her head. As he drew a sharp breath to retaliate, she added with a cold smile, "I mean your shirt." He stared at her, his expression turning to stone. She merely offered a careless shrug and walked away, leaving him fuming in the hallway. Downstairs, Sophia was halfway through her breakfast when her phone vibrated on the table. A quick glance at the screen confirmed it was Helen calling. Just then, Wendy appeared with two additional breakfast plates. Sophia swiped to answer the call, a deliberate smile directed at Wendy. "You're calling so early, Mrs. Westwood." The pointed smile made Wendy's blood run cold, and at the mention of Mrs. Westwood, she was reminded of betraying Sophia by reporting to Helen last night. Stricken with guilt, she almost fumbled the tray. She dropped the plates onto the table and hastily retreated to the safety of the kitchen. A faint, cold smile touched Sophia's lips as Helen's venomous voice filled her ear. "Utterly devoid of manners," Helen sneered. "What else can you expect from someone with such a common background?" Sophia's eyes turned to ice. "Trace any lineage back three generations, Mrs. Westwood, and you'll find humble roots. It's distasteful to scorn your own origins." Helen found herself at a loss for words. Though Lucas's parents both had city roots, his grandparents' generation had all struggled in a backwater. Helen's parents had even lived in a cowshed. So in that regard, Helen was no better than Sophia. "That sharp tongue of yours is exactly why people can't stand you," Helen shot back. Sophia rolled her eyes in contempt. Biting back her anger, Helen forced a calmer tone. "We need to meet. There's a document for you to sign." "What kind of document?" "It'll be clear when you get here." Letting the matter drop, Sophia hung up. As she did, she saw Lucas descending the staircase. He had showered and changed, his hair perfectly styled like a model from the pages of a magazine. She had to admit, he was pleasing to look at. 'With those looks, he certainly has the assets for a career as a gigolo,' Sophia thought wryly. A smug feeling warmed Lucas as her eyes stayed on him. He drew out the chair next to hers and sat down. "Paliston Fashion Week is just around the corner," he offered. "It'll be a good chance for us to get away." In three years of marriage, it was the first time he had ever proposed such a thing. Sophia acknowledged him with a quiet hum, but she felt no spark of happiness or expectation. She saw the offer for what it was—a peace offering, born of the guilt he carried after his betrayal. Her ride showed up shortly after breakfast. Picking up her bag, Sophia walked out the door.
Chapter 1 His First Love Returned Sophia Evans could feel her world beginning to crack the moment she heard the news—the woman her husband, Lucas Westwood, had never gotten over was back. When Sophia arrived at the hotel's VIP suite with a gift, she found Lucas's first love—Emily Evans—being humiliated by his childhood friends. "Lick the wine off my shoe, Emily. I'll give you thirty thousand dollars," one of them said. Emily was forced to kneel on the floor, tears in her defiant eyes as she stared shamefully at Lucas. Lucas watched with a dark expression, saying nothing as he held his temper in check. Sophia halted mid-step, struck by the painful familiarity of the scene. Three years ago, when she had first been welcomed into the Evans family, these same privileged young men had tormented her in exactly the same way to gain Emily's favor. But back then, Lucas hadn't worn this expression of utter heartbreak. "There you are," Lucas said as soon as he spotted Sophia, his arm sliding around her waist in a show of intimacy. Only Sophia could feel the desperate pressure of his grip—a silent testament to the pain he was trying to conceal. Lucas's childhood friends had reserved the entire venue for his birthday celebration. But Sophia had never expected Emily to show up here. Everyone knew Lucas had married Sophia just to spite Emily. Three years ago, Emily's identity as a fake heiress was exposed. She broke up with Lucas then and there and left the Evans family behind. Lucas pursued her to the airport, boarded her departing flight, and forced the plane that had already taken off to turn back. Right there on that plane, he proposed to Emily. To his complete surprise, Emily refused without hesitation, declaring that the arranged marriage should be honored by the Evans family's true heiress. Humiliated and acting out of spite, Lucas married Sophia instead. For three years, Sophia had lived as Emily's stand-in. Everyone whispered that if Emily ever returned, Lucas would discard Sophia without a second thought. Sophia had once believed that too, but something had shifted in these past six months—Lucas seemed to be genuinely falling for her. He made grand declarations of love in the press, showered her with luxury homes and cars, and even replaced the cherry tree he'd planted for Emily with a garden full of red roses. In their most tender moments, he'd whisper against her ear, "Let's have a baby, Sophie. I hope they have your smile." Sophia's hand drifted absently to her stomach as she clutched the gift box a little tighter. Inside was a positive pregnancy test—meant to be Lucas's birthday surprise. But now, the timing of the gift felt all wrong. "You still think you're the Evans family princess, Emily? Lucas only has eyes for Sophia now. Why not be with me? A pretty thing like you deserves to be treated right," one of Lucas's friends, Ryan Shaw, sneered. He dragged Emily onto his lap, his hands already roaming over her. "Get your hands off me!" Emily cried, fighting against Ryan's grip as humiliation burned through her. Her resistance only fueled Ryan's excitement. In one swift motion, he shoved her down onto the couch, his powerful body trapping hers. Horrified that Ryan would assault Emily right in front of Lucas, Sophia jumped up to stop him, only to be shoved aside as Lucas already surged into action. As she stumbled, her hands instinctively reached for Lucas's arm, but he brutally shook her off. She hit the floor hard, a jolt of sharp pain shooting from her tailbone straight to her womb. Through the pain-induced haze, she saw Lucas grab Ryan by the collar, drag him off Emily, and pummel his face with brutal, unforgiving fists. "You've overstepped, Ryan. Emily is mine. Even if I discard her, she'll never be yours to touch," Lucas snapped. His words hung in the air, and the entire room fell silent as if frozen in time. Sophia stared at Lucas in disbelief, wondering where she stood in his life now that he had openly claimed Emily as his woman. All eyes in the room were drawn to the scene. Some watched with malicious delight, while others were simply captivated by the unfolding drama. Doubled over in pain, Sophia felt a warm wetness spreading beneath her. Her face paled as a cold dread gripped her heart. "Honey, my stomach hurts," she turned to Lucas instinctively. "Please, take me to the hospital." Without even glancing her way, Lucas removed his jacket and gently placed it around Emily's shoulders. Nestling into his embrace, Emily whispered, her voice trembling, "Lucas, I'm scared. Please take me away from here." "Don't worry," he murmured, holding her close. "I won't let anyone hurt you." Sweeping Emily into his arms, Lucas carried her out of the room, completely ignoring Sophia's pain-racked form shuddering on the floor. Perched comfortably on his shoulder, Emily gazed down at Sophia's crumpled form on the floor, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. The spectators murmured among themselves, still savoring the drama they'd just witnessed. "Emily's definitely the one for Lucas. He hasn't taken his eyes off her all night." "The way Lucas looks at her... I thought it was hatred, but it's clearly something else entirely." "Who could resist someone like her? I certainly wouldn't be able to stay angry." "Poor Sophia. She was just a side character in their love story." At the mention of Sophia's name, the crowd remembered her presence simultaneously, their attention shifting to where she sat. Sophia was in terrible pain and covered in a cold sweat until someone finally noticed her condition and quickly helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?" the guy asked. She gripped his arm tightly as the room spun around her. "Please take me to the hospital. My stomach hurts terribly," she pleaded. Then everything went dark as she fainted. Through the haze of semi-consciousness, distant screams about blood echoed in her ears. When Sophia regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital room. The sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the air as she lay alone in the quiet ward. A nurse tending to her bandages noticed her awakening. "You're awake," she said softly. Sophia's voice came out weak and fearful. "My baby... Is my baby alright?" "Your baby is fine," the nurse reassured her. "But you'll need to take special care. These first few months are particularly delicate in your condition." Relief washed over Sophia as grateful tears fell. "Thank you," she whispered, overwhelmed that her child was safe. Through the emotional turmoil, Sophia's first thought was to share the news with Lucas immediately. Wiping her tears, she reached for her phone and dialed his number. The phone rang several times before Lucas finally picked up. His voice was edged with impatience as he answered, "Not coming home tonight. Don't wait—" "Lucas, my hair's caught in this zipper," Emily's voice interrupted, floating through the line. "Could you give me a hand?" Sophia's knuckles went white around her phone. "Be right there," he said. The call ended before Sophia could form a response. Overnight, things between her and Lucas had reverted to how they were six months ago. Back then, he'd been all cold shoulders and sharp tones. Even in their most intimate moments, he treated her like just another need to be met. To him, she might as well have been a stranger—or worse, just a convenient body. So when he finally let his guard down, she'd been so grateful for the warmth that she fell harder than she ever meant to. She thought her years of longing had finally paid off. But reality slapped her senseless when Lucas chose Emily's safety over their own child's life. After being discharged from the hospital, Sophia caught a taxi home. Midway through the ride, her phone buzzed with a Twitter alert. It was a tweet from Emily: [You told me you'd hold my hand and never let go—not for the rest of our lives.] The attached photo showed Emily dressed like a princess, complete with a tiny crown, her hand locked tightly with a larger, elegant hand. Around the wrist was a bracelet made of prayer beads—the very one Sophia had prayed for in a church last year, when Lucas was burning up with fever. That day, he squeezed her hand and whispered a promise that he would never leave her side. Chapter 2 Ask Him For A Divorce The taxi stopped outside the Nightfall Estate, where Sophia paid the fare and got out of the vehicle. She was just heading inside when a truck carrying young cherry trees rumbled up the drive and stopped near the garden. Workers carefully unloaded the cherry trees and settled them into the prepared holes. Where a vibrant sea of red roses had bloomed just yesterday, now only upturned earth remained, with the plants piled carelessly to the side. A dull ache spread through Sophia's chest as she gazed at the rose petals strewn like crimson tears across the soil. The familiar purr of a luxury car engine approached from behind. Turning around, Sophia saw Lucas step out of the car. He stood tall and straight, radiating a natural air of calm elegance. "Honey..." Sophia began, but the words died on her lips as he leaned back into the car. With gentle care, he helped a woman step out—it was Emily, who looked radiant in an exquisite designer ensemble that made her complexion glow. Only when Emily was steady did Lucas's gaze finally meet Sophia's, those usually warm eyes now regarding her with detached indifference. "Did you need something?" he asked, his tone flat. The cold unfamiliarity in his look struck Sophia's heart like a physical blow. "Why are you tearing out the roses when they were growing so well?" she asked, desperate for his explanation. Those roses had been his special way of confessing his feelings to her. Lucas barely glanced at the destroyed garden. "Emily's not feeling well. She'll be staying with us for a bit." "What does that have to do with the roses?" she pressed. "She's allergic to the pollen," he said curtly, already turning to guide Emily inside. Sophia stood rooted to the spot, her heart breaking. Emily's delicate voice carried through the air. "Lucas, Sophia seems upset. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have complained about the roses." "She doesn't matter to me," Lucas reassured her. "But I worry she'll resent me. Really, I can manage with allergy medication," Emily offered, her voice dripping with false concern. "Medication always has side effects. Don't suggest things that worry me," he replied. Sophia stood motionless as she watched their figures grow smaller in the distance. A silent tear traced its way down her cheek while overwhelming sorrow washed over her. 'I don't matter to him... Yeah, right,' Sophia murmured with bitter irony, the truth of the words settling like a weight in her heart. He hadn't even asked about her absence last night, and now he had ordered her favorite roses to be torn out. The message was clear—she meant less to him than the slightest thought of Emily. For three years, she had devoted herself to him, offering unwavering love and comfort through difficult times. She had believed her constant warmth could thaw even the coldest heart, but Emily's reappearance had erased everything in an instant. She wondered what their intimacy these past six months had truly meant, and what role she had actually played in his life. A sudden twinge in her lower abdomen made her catch her breath. Pale and unsteady, she turned toward the villa. As Sophia stepped into the living room, she saw Emily nestled against Lucas on the sofa, watching with affectionate amusement as he peeled an orange for her. Lucas gently picked away every bit of white pith from the orange segments before arranging them on a plate for Emily. "For you," he said with a soft smile. "Enjoy, my little foodie." As Emily took the plate, she noticed Sophia entering the room. A triumphant smile graced her lips as she called out, "Sophia, would you like some? Lucas peeled these himself. Something you've never experienced, I'm sure." Sophia's gaze fell upon the perfectly prepared orange segments, and she felt a sudden sting behind her eyes. The painful truth was that in all their time together, Lucas had never once peeled an orange for her. She had always been the one serving him. The realization struck her with perfect clarity—Lucas knew well how to be thoughtful, but he simply reserved his kindness for Emily. Sophia felt her heart breaking into pieces as she finally understood how painful comparison could be. "She's perfectly capable of peeling her own fruit," Lucas said dismissively, barely glancing at Sophia. Then he noticed her pale complexion and added, "Are you alright? You look terribly pale." Sophia's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she debated telling Lucas her secret pregnancy. A fragile hope whispered within her—that this truth might finally soften his heart toward her. "I..." Her voice faltered, the words dying on her lips. "If you're ill, see a doctor. This pathetic act is getting tiresome," Lucas said, impatience flashing across his handsome features. He was annoyed by her wounded expression, which seemed to suggest she was the victim of some terrible injustice. Sophia swallowed her unspoken words, her gaze lingering on the man who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. "I'm fine," she murmured. "I'll just go to my room." As she turned toward the staircase, Lucas felt a surge of irritation. 'I must've been too lenient with her, and now she dared to show me attitude,' he thought, fuming. Sophia had only climbed a few steps when the housekeeper, Wendy, appeared descending the stairs with servants carrying boxes. The items looked familiar, but it was the sight of her stuffed doll in Wendy's arms that made Sophia realize everything they carried was hers. In a swift motion, she stepped forward and snatched the doll. Her voice turned icy as she asked, "Wendy, care to explain this?" "Mr. Westwood's orders," Wendy said quietly. "You're to move to the storage room downstairs." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, leaving her mind reeling. She turned to Lucas, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious." They'd already maintained separate bedrooms, but she never imagined that she'd be banished to a storage room instead of even being offered the guest suite after Emily's return. For a fleeting moment under her gaze, Lucas felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly hardened into resolve. "Emily needs the sunroom for her health," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your room gets the best light. It's better for her recovery." The absurdity of it all drew a bitter laugh from Sophia's lips. She thought his previous cruelty—shoving her while pregnant and replacing her roses with Emily's cherry trees—had been the worst it could get. But this new humiliation surpassed even that. All Lucas had done since Emily's return yesterday was talk about her. In just one day, she had turned Sophia's whole life upside down. Sophia expected to feel rage, but instead found only a hollow emptiness settling in her chest. 'Look at him, Sophia,' Sophia thought bitterly. 'This is the man you gave your heart and soul to. Was any of it worth it?' "If you're so worried about her comfort, why not just move her into your room? The master suite gets the best light anyway," Sophia shot back. Lucas responded sharply, "Sophia, you need to watch your tone." Emily's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I know you don't want me here, Sophia. I'll go. Please don't fight with Lucas over me." Sophia saw right through Emily's act. A humorless laugh escaped her as she spat, "You're not going anywhere. I am." Tightening her grip on the stuffed doll, she turned and headed for the door. "Don't you dare, Sophia." Lucas rose to his feet, his voice cutting through the room. "Walk out that door now, and don't expect to ever come back." Sophia's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "I'll make sure you receive the divorce papers," she said, her voice cold and steady. "See that you sign them." "You're asking me for a divorce?" Lucas's voice was low, thick with barely restrained fury. He added, his tone edged with contempt, "Have you forgotten who gave you this life, Sophia? The luxury, the status—all of it came from me. Without my name, you're just that wide-eyed girl fresh off that forgotten little town. You don't get to leave." Chapter 3 The Replaced Medical Result Sophia didn't need to look back to know the condescending smirk that was surely on Lucas's face. She knew he had always despised her. His proposal three years ago had been motivated only by a desire to fulfill the marriage agreement between their families and to exact revenge on Emily. She had been naive enough to believe his empty promises, offering him her genuine love when he saw her as nothing more than a pawn. To him, she would always be a leech, clinging to his wealth and name for survival. But now, she had reached her limit, and she no longer wanted him in her life. Sophia walked out without a backward glance. As she stepped through the gateway, the sound of shattering porcelain echoed behind her, but she no longer cared. Lucas stood amid the shattered remains, fingers pressed to his temples. His face was a mask of simmering anger. He dismissed the mention of divorce as just another one of her calculated moves, a transparent attempt to get his attention by pulling away. Emily watched him hesitantly. "Maybe I shouldn't be staying here, Lucas. Sophia seemed really upset." "It's nothing," Lucas replied evenly. Seeing how the mention of divorce had affected him, she suggested softly, "You could go after her. Women usually respond well to a little reassurance." "I don't have time for that," Lucas said, turning toward the staircase. With a business trip looming, his mind was elsewhere. 'Let her make a scene if she wants to,' he thought. 'She'll cool off and come crawling back. She always does.' ***** Sophia's home was a beautiful 3,200-square-foot apartment with an open-concept layout and sleek modern decor—all paid for with her own earnings. In her study, she printed the divorce papers and a letter resigning from her position. With a steady hand, she signed both, and then summoned a courier to deliver them directly to the Westwood Group. When she married Lucas three years ago, Sophia had joined his company, hoping to build a genuine connection with him. She started at the very bottom as an assistant and gradually earned her way up to department manager. She had wanted nothing more than to be close to him—in their home and at work. But in the end, her efforts were met with cold indifference. Gazing downward, Sophia softly cradled her stomach. "It's just us now, little one," she whispered. The courier arrived at Westwood headquarters while Lucas was away. His chief executive assistant, Kevin Chapman, received the delivery and signed. The moment Kevin saw the contents, he reached for the phone, dialing Lucas's number in haste. "Mr. Westwood, your wife has sent divorce documents." "Burn it all." On the other side of the ocean, Lucas loosened his tie as an unexpected wave of irritation came over him. "But Mrs. Westwood has even submitted her resignation letter..." Kevin replied, his tone hesitant. "She can't survive without this family." The blue flame from Lucas's lighter highlighted the grim set of his features. "Let her be. She'll come crawling back once reality sets in." Meanwhile, Sophia remained completely unaware of his words. Her morning had begun with a call from her mother-in-law, Helen Westwood. "Where are you? Return at once," Helen commanded in her typically imperious manner, leaving no room for discussion. Complying, Sophia drove back to the estate. No sooner had she stepped inside than a velvet box came hurling toward her head, which she narrowly avoided by stepping aside. Helen's shrill voice pierced the air. "How dare you avoid that? You've got some nerve." Sophia's gaze fell upon the velvet box at her feet, and suddenly, she understood why it seemed familiar. She remembered purchasing that exact box to store her pregnancy test results. On Lucas's birthday, she had intended to present it to him as a gift, but he had accidentally pushed her before she could give it to him, resulting in her hospitalization. Her heart leaped as she turned to face Helen's livid expression. 'Could she know about the pregnancy? But something about her reaction seems strange,' she wondered. For three years, Helen had made no secret of her disapproval of Sophia, someone raised in a small town. Yet every time Sophia visited the Westwood residence with Lucas, Helen would consistently nag Sophia about starting a family soon. If Helen knew Sophia was pregnant, she was supposed to be absolutely delighted instead of reacting like this. Helen clutched a medical report, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared down Sophia. "For three years, I've watched your marriage to Lucas, wondering why you never conceived. Now I understand—he married a barren woman. "If you hadn't left this at the hotel and Lucas's friend hadn't been kind enough to deliver it, I'd still be in the dark about your condition." Heart pounding with shock, Sophia ignored Helen's murderous gaze and snatched the document from her hand. The clinical report lay cold and pale in the morning light. There was her name, clearly printed, alongside the devastating diagnosis: "permanent infertility." 'Permanent infertility? But that's impossible. I'm pregnant. Someone must have switched my test results. But who would do such a thing?' Sophia wondered. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "This isn't my..." Emily, who had remained silent until now, suddenly interrupted, "Sophia, the Westwood lineage has been passed down through a single heir for ten generations. Are you trying to ensure Lucas dies without an heir? To extinguish the family line completely?" "How utterly heartless!" Helen exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Sophia as her anger reached its peak. "We've welcomed you with open arms since you married into this family. Yet you've been hiding this from us? To think you'd let our family line die out—it's truly despicable!" she added. Sophia didn't even attempt to explain herself. If they wanted to believe she was barren, so be it—it would only simplify the divorce proceedings. "I only received the results two days ago. I hadn't found the right moment to share the news," Sophia replied, her voice calm. "This wasn't about finding the right moment. You did this intentionally," Helen retorted, her face contorted with rage. "And you planned to give this to Lucas as a gift? What kind of twisted mind would conceive such a thing?" Sophia maintained her silence. Helen took a measured breath, forcing her anger down. "If you can't conceive naturally, I won't hold it against you. I've spoken with Emily, and she's agreed to donate her eggs so you and Lucas can pursue in vitro fertilization." Sophia stared in disbelief at the unexpected turn. "Could you repeat that?" She believed she had misheard because the suggestion was both preposterous and deeply offensive. "If you can't conceive, that's your problem. Emily is being extraordinarily generous by offering her eggs. The least you could do is show some appreciation instead of this ingratitude," Helen sneered. A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. "Perhaps you'd like to accept this generous offer yourself?" "How dare you speak to me like that!" Helen's eyes flashed with fury. "Sophia, you shouldn't speak to Mrs. Westwood that way. She was suggesting that for your sake," Emily said in a honeyed tone, reaching for the glass. As she moved, she made certain to display the prayer beads circling her delicate wrist. Sophia's breath caught—she would recognize the bracelet anywhere. That was the very ones she had sacrificed so much to obtain while praying for Lucas's recovery. It felt like a personal insult, seeing the bracelet that symbolized her love for Lucas now clasped around Emily's wrist. "For my sake?" Sophia repeated, the words tasting bitter as she caught the sly glint of satisfaction in Emily's eyes. It sent a sharp ache through her. She knew this game all too well. Emily had a gift for twisting people's vulnerabilities to her advantage, a lesson Sophia had learned the hard way three years ago. "I'm infertile. What possible use could I have for your eggs?" Sophia asked, her voice cold. "Do you really think I need a constant reminder of what I can't have?" Emily's smile vanished. For Helen's benefit, she bit her lip, her eyes instantly welling with feigned hurt. "Mrs. Westwood," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "I was only trying to help Sophia." Helen immediately comforted Emily by patting her hand. She then shot Sophia a disapproving look. "How can you be so selfish, Sophia? Are you really determined to let the Westwood family line die out?" Sophia gestured dismissively toward Emily. "Well, if she's so fertile, let her handle the baby-making." The thought of Emily getting to be a mother the easy way turned Sophia's stomach. Chapter 4 Take Back Her Things The color drained from both Helen's and Emily's faces. Helen stepped forward, jabbing a finger toward Sophia. "You think you're better than us? Then you give the Westwood family an heir. Don't blame anyone else for your own useless womb." Sophia bit back the sharp retort on her tongue. She was done with this family, done with Lucas. Arguing now would only prolong the inevitable. "Mrs. Westwood," she began, "I've decided—" Lucas's familiar, deep voice cut through the tension from the doorway. "Decided what?" Sophia turned to see Lucas standing there, his clothes rumpled from travel. His assistant, Kevin, hovered behind him with a suitcase in hand. The air in the room was thick with tension, so Kevin knew better than to stay. He simply left the suitcase by the door and made a quick exit. Loosening his tie, Lucas turned to Helen. "Mom, what brings you here?" "If I hadn't come, you'd have let our family name die out," Helen shot back. She then snatched the medical report from Sophia and flung it at Lucas's chest. "See for yourself," she said coldly, and with that, she swept out of the room. Lucas looked down at the document in his hands, and the words "permanent infertility" caused a faint twitch in his brow. His eyes, when they finally lifted to meet Sophia's, were devoid of warmth. "You'll go back to the hospital tomorrow for a full work-up. I will not have a wife who can't give me an heir." A hollow ache spread through Sophia's chest. Any foolish hope she'd been clinging to finally faded. Lucas had never defended her in three years of his mother's constant belittlement. And now, the ease with which he believed this lie revealed the chilling truth of his character. "I have the divorce papers right here," Sophia said, pulling the documents from her bag. She extended them toward him, her voice steady. "Just sign them, and you'll never have to see me again." Lucas didn't even look at the papers. In one swift motion, his hand closed around her throat, pulling her close. He leaned in until his face was mere inches from hers, and she could feel his warm breath and smell the familiar scent of his cologne. There was a time when this closeness would have made her heart flutter. Now, it only made her skin crawl. It was amazing how easy it was to walk away when all the love had drained away. "Sophia, have I been too soft with you?" Lucas's voice was thick with contempt. "Where exactly do you think you'll go without my protection?" She held his gaze without flinching. "That's really none of your concern anymore." "Still got that sharp tongue," he sneered. He released her with a dismissive shove, as if her defiance meant nothing. "Go make me dinner. I'm hungry." A wave of pain shot through Sophia's lower abdomen as she sank into the sofa, her skin turning clammy with an instant, cold sweat. Across the room, Emily slid her arm through Lucas's with practiced ease. "Don't let Sophia bother you," she murmured. "Her little scene was just a cry for your attention." Lucas pulled his tie free, his stern expression melting away as he focused on Emily. "How are you holding up?" he asked, his tone gentler. "I'm fine," she sighed, putting on a pitiful face. "It's just that the medicine is so awfully bitter." "It's bitter because it's strong. You need to keep taking it," he reminded her. "I picked up those candies you like. They're in my suitcase. Go get them yourself." "I know you always look out for me," Emily said, stretching up to press a light kiss to Lucas's cheek. "Consider that your reward." A look of quiet satisfaction crossed his features at the gesture. "I'm going up to shower," he said. "Go ahead," Emily said sweetly, fluttering a wave at him. She waited until Lucas's footsteps faded up the staircase before turning to the suitcase. They carried on as if Sophia weren't standing right there in the same room. Humming cheerfully, Emily unzipped the luggage. Alongside Lucas's neatly folded clothes sat a jar of shimmering candies and an elegant red velvet box that clearly held something valuable. Her eyes skipped over the candy, going straight to the velvet box. When she lifted the lid, a pink diamond necklace lay gleaming, its facets scattering rainbows in the light. "Oh, it's exquisite. I love it," she whispered, her eyes widening. "So the candy was just a decoy. This necklace is what he really wanted me to find." Draping the necklace against her collarbone, Emily turned to face Sophia, who had risen from the sofa. "Well, Sophia? Don't you think it suits me perfectly?" The pink diamond necklace around Emily's neck struck Sophia as oddly familiar. It came to her a moment later—she had coveted it last month while flipping through a magazine. Lucas had seen her fascination and promised to get it for her. The catch was its exclusivity—a single piece, sourced from Melaria, the country where Lucas had been attending to business. "That was for me," Sophia said, her voice calm. The man was disposable, but her possessions were not. She would reclaim what was rightfully hers. With a swift motion, Emily clasped the necklace. "Finders keepers," she said with a mocking grin. Sophia approached for a closer look. Though the necklace was more exquisite than its photograph, any desire for it had vanished. A wary look crossed Emily's face. "What is this about?" "To take what belongs to me, of course," Sophia said, stepping close and extending her hand. "It's time you returned it." Emily's hands instinctively flew to the diamond necklace at her throat. "Lucas will never stand for this, Sophia. You know what I mean to him." Sophia almost laughed. She knew well that Emily held a special place in Lucas's heart. But that was irrelevant. She was only claiming what was hers. "Give the bracelet back to me," Sophia said coldly. It was a token earned through true devotion, and she wouldn't let its significance be tarnished. Realizing Sophia only wanted the simple bracelet, Emily smiled condescendingly. 'Some shortsighted people have no taste,' she thought. Emily twisted the bracelet around her wrist. "I heard you went to Grace Abbey to beg for this good-luck charm," she said. "You are so hung up on him, aren't you?" The hypocrisy of her words was almost laughable. "Give it back," Sophia said, her voice like ice. Emily's eyes flickered to a point behind Sophia, and a sly smile touched her lips. She lowered her voice. "If you want it so badly, why don't you come and take it?" Sophia didn't stop to think. She grabbed Emily's wrist and tugged the bracelet free. The moment it was off, Emily's demeanor shifted completely. "Sophia, what are you doing?" she cried out, her voice suddenly loud and panicked. "Lucas gave this to me." Before Sophia could even turn around, a powerful hand seized her by the collar and hauled her backwards. The fabric dug sharply into her throat, stealing her breath. Stumbling to regain her footing, Sophia looked up to see Lucas. He was already cradling Emily. "Emily, are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern. Emily buried her face in his chest. "I'm fine," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Please, don't be angry with Sophia. She didn't mean it." Lucas's jaw tightened, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. He took a deep breath and fixed Sophia with an icy stare. "Apologize to Emily." Chapter 5 She Wants A Clean Break A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. She had fooled herself into thinking she was numb to Lucas's coldness. But his command still sent a fresh, sharp pain through her chest. She knew there was no point arguing with a man who had already chosen the other woman's side. "I won't apologize," Sophia said, her fist closing tightly around the bracelet. "What for?" Emily looked up at Lucas with well-practiced vulnerability. "I'm causing trouble here, Lucas. I should go." Lucas caught her wrist before she could take a second step. "You're staying right here." His attention snapped back to Sophia, his expression darkening. "Now, Sophia, apologize to Emily." The room blurred as tears filled Sophia's eyes, twisting his familiar face into a stranger's. She lifted the simple bracelet between them. "This is my stuff in the first place. Since when is taking back what was stolen a crime?" "Your stuff? Since when do you have anything of your own?" Lucas's lips curled in a sneer. "I've paid for every stitch of clothing on your back." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, forcing a bitter laugh from her lips. He knew perfectly well she earned her own living, yet he took every opportunity to demean her. "This bracelet came from Grace Abbey," she countered, her voice trembling. "You didn't pay a cent for it." Lucas's eyes dropped to the simple beads in her palm. "You think I care about some cheap bracelet?" he scoffed. Hot tears streamed down Sophia's face without warning. Wiping them away, Sophia made a silent vow—this would be the last time he reduced her to this. "Fine!" With one sharp motion, she snapped the bracelet's cord, sending beads skittering across the floor. Lucas watched the scattered beads come to rest, his hand curling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. He knew how much that bracelet meant to her, but the moment Emily wanted it, he didn't hesitate to take it off and hand it over. Lucas's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "Sophia!" "I want a divorce," Sophia said, her voice eerily calm. As she opened her hand, the last bead from the bracelet clattered onto the floor between them. "Let's just end this." The sound was small, but in the tense silence, it was deafening, echoing in Lucas's mind. He let out a short laugh, his gaze locked on her. "You think a threat will work? You should know better than that by now." 'This has to be a ploy,' he thought to himself. 'She loves me too much to go through with it. She has accepted her role as Emily's replacement from the beginning and has never once tried to leave. 'She would never have the strength to walk away from me.' "Go make us something to eat, and we can forget this ever happened." Lucas was certain he had thrown Sophia a lifeline. He waited, fully expecting her to be overcome with relief and scurry off to the kitchen. He'd been away on business, and days of unfamiliar rich food had left his stomach unsettled. What he craved was Sophia's cooking—simple, hearty food that tasted like home. It was a flavor he couldn't find anywhere else. "You can go eat your ass," Sophia shot back. She picked up her bag, her lips twisting into a scornful smile, and walked out without a backward glance. That smile grated on Lucas's nerves more than the insult itself. In his frustration, his eyes fell on the string of prayer beads lying scattered on the floor, and he gave them an impatient kick. 'So that's her game. She wants to challenge me? I'd like to see just how long her resolve will hold,' he thought, fuming. ***** Sophia sped away from Nightfall Estate, her phone buzzing relentlessly on the passenger seat. Lucas's name flashed across the screen again and again until she finally grabbed it and blocked his number for good. When she looked up at the road, she blinked, her vision blurring for a moment. She braced for the familiar sting of tears, but when her fingers touched her skin, it was dry. It was only then that she noticed the soft patter against the windshield. A fine drizzle had begun to fall, and a quiet melancholy settled over her, as gray as the sky. Up ahead, the flickering hazard lights of a sleek black car broke the rhythm of the rain. A man in a soaked suit, looking to be in his forties, stood beside it, waving frantically at passing traffic. Almost without conscious thought, Sophia found herself flipping on her turn signal and pulling over. She rolled down her window as the man rushed over. "Everything okay?" she asked. "It's my boss," the man said, his voice tight with panic. "He's having a heart attack. The ambulance is stuck in a multi-car accident. Please, can you take us to the hospital?" Sophia hesitated. Letting two strange men into her car, especially in this weather, felt dangerous. Every cautionary tale she'd ever heard flashed through her mind. Seeing her hesitation, the man added urgently, "I promise we're not dangerous. My boss is—" But Sophia was already moving, cutting the engine and stepping out into the downpour. "Just get him to my car, now," she called out as she rushed toward their vehicle. As she got closer, she recognized the distinctive emblem of the black Maybach. Working together, they carefully transferred the elderly man from the luxury sedan into Sophia's more modest car. The old man's lips were tinged with blue, and each ragged breath seemed like a struggle, clear signs of his critical condition. Sliding behind the wheel, Sophia started the car and pulled back onto the road, pushing through the veils of rain. In the backseat, the middle-aged man was a whirlwind of activity on his phone, coordinating with a hospital and alerting the family. Beyond the windows, the storm seemed to intensify, as if trying to match the urgency inside the car. After ensuring everything was in place, the man turned to Sophia with heartfelt appreciation. "You're the only one who stopped in this downpour. We can't thank you enough." A warm smile touched Sophia's lips. "Some things are just meant to be." ***** Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital entrance where medical staff stood ready. The team swiftly transferred the elderly man to a stretcher and hurried him inside for emergency care. Just as Sophia was about to drive away, she spotted a lone leather shoe in the backseat—the one the elderly man had been wearing. After a moment's hesitation, she parked properly and carried the shoe to the reception desk, logging it as a lost item. Sophia was just turning to leave when a group emerged from the hospital's main entrance. At the front of the group was a man whose height and posture commanded attention. He turned his sharp gaze on her, and the intensity in his eyes was so commanding that it felt like a physical pressure. 'That frown means trouble,' Sophia thought. She averted her gaze and continued walking, brushing past the group without a second look. It wasn't until she was back in the driver's seat that she felt the chill of her wet clothes clinging to her skin. As she dried her hair with a towel from the backseat, a notification popped up on her phone while she was opening the navigation app. It was a post from Emily: [Nothing says 'forever' like a soft-boiled egg made with love! My ultimate comfort food.] The post featured two photos—one showed a soft-boiled egg with a ketchup heart, and the other captured a tall man's back as he stood at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Sophia couldn't help but compare. When she was with Lucas, he had acted like even pouring her a glass of water was a significant concession. Cooking a meal was utterly out of the question. The fact that he was now cooking for Emily spoke volumes about where his true affections lay. She closed the page and entered her apartment address into the navigation system before driving out of the parking lot. As she watched the heavy rain outside, a single decisive thought crystallized in her mind—this marriage was over. Chapter 6 Return The Trash To The Dumpster That evening, a text came through from Annabelle Quinn, Sophia's best friend since college, insisting they go out to a lounge. The old Sophia would have declined immediately, conditioned to obey Lucas's rule about her not going out. But now that Sophia was divorcing him, his opinions held no weight. ***** The moment Sophia stepped out of the car, she saw Annabelle waiting by the entrance. "Hope you haven't been waiting long," she said as she approached. "Just got here," Annabelle grinned, looping her arm through Sophia's. "So, what's the special occasion? Did you finally get a night off from your sweetheart?" Sophia struggled to find the words, but she couldn't keep it from her best friend. "I'm getting a divorce," she finally said. "Let me guess," Annabelle said, not one to mince words in front of her best friend. "This is about Emily being back, isn't it?" "It's not just that," Sophia admitted, her voice quiet. It just took seeing the difference for herself to truly see how little her three years of effort had meant. Annabelle threw a supportive arm around Sophia's shoulders. "You should have woken up to this a long time ago." For three years, she had watched Sophia lose herself in a hollow relationship, and it killed Annabelle to see her friend throw everything away for a man who never appreciated her. "Better late than never," Sophia offered with a weak smile. "Damn right it is," Annabelle declared. "Tonight, I'm getting us the best male models in town. You deserve some real attention." They ascended into the pulsating heart of the club, pushing through the glittering crowd toward the exclusive booth Annabelle had booked. As they moved past the entrance to a private booth, a burst of laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway. Amid the noise, Sophia's own name caught her sharp ear. "Got to hand it to Lucas. The minute Emily was back, he moved her right in. Word is, he showed Sophia the door." "Well, she had it coming. Play the simp, and you lose it all. Seriously though, that night in the booth with all the blood? I truly thought a tragedy had occurred, but it was probably just her period." "You're thinking about that? Man, have you had a thing for Sophia all along?" "Who'd pine after some nobody from a backwater? Only Lucas, with his unique preferences, would stick around for three years." "Guess the novelty wore off. Time for a change." Standing in the hallway, Sophia felt a cold stillness settle behind her eyes. The voices clicked into place—Lucas's oldest friends. They had been there that night, spectators to her most shameful moment. Annabelle's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind." But as she moved toward the door, Sophia stopped her with a gentle hand. "This is my battle to fight," Sophia said firmly. With that, Sophia pushed the door open and swept into the room. She settled gracefully onto the sofa, joining their conversation with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you're talking about unique preferences, I top him," she began, her voice deceptively light, "I recycled what Emily threw away. But it looks like I did everyone a favor by returning the trash to the dumpster where it belongs." A stunned silence fell over the room. Every face on the circular sofa stared at her in horrified fascination. Unbeknownst to Sophia, two figures had entered the room behind her during her speech. The guests' eyes darted nervously between Sophia and the newcomers, the air thickening with tension. There stood Lucas and Emily, their expressions dark as storm clouds. Their presence made Sophia turn. Her eyes instantly met the cold, dark stare of Lucas. But she didn't back down. A defiant shrug lifted her shoulders. "Look what the cat dragged in. My trash husband." Emily's eyes instantly glistened with tears. "Sophia, ignore them," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "It's all lies. Lucas and I are just friends." As if to prove her point, she clutched Lucas's arm. "Tell her, Lucas. Make her understand there's nothing going on between us." Sophia's gaze dropped to the hand clinging to Lucas's arm, and a faint, derisive smile touched her mouth. 'Just friends? Did she really expect anyone to believe that?' she thought bitterly. Lucas detached himself from Emily's grip and closed the distance between him and Sophia. The motion broke the tension, stirring his friends into action. "Hey, Lucas, take it easy," one of them said, stepping forward. "She's just reacting to our stupid jokes." "Come on, Sophia, just say you're sorry to Lucas," another one urged. "You know he'll forgive you." The suggestion made Sophia want to laugh bitterly. 'Is this really how they see me? As some lovesick fool who'd come crawling back at the first sign of forgiveness?' she thought. It explained everything—why, for three years, they had shown her phony respect as Lucas's wife while mocking her devotion in private. She had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn't met Lucas seven years ago, if that fateful incident hadn't tied her to him, she would have moved on with her life long ago. "Are you quite done?" Lucas's voice cut through her thoughts as he reached for her arm. She shifted her weight gracefully, letting his hand close on empty air. The rejected gesture hung between them for a beat too long before he withdrew, his features tightening with displeasure. Turning to Emily, who was now dabbing at her eyes, Sophia arched a brow. "There's no need for the waterworks. You're making it look like I'm the one being cruel here." "Sophia, I've treated you like my elder sister. I—" Emily began, trying to defend herself. "Don't," Sophia interrupted, her voice cool. "We arrived minutes apart, and you were first. Let's skip the emotional act." Emily's face turned from pale to deep red as she clenched her jaw in fury. 'Since when has Sophia found this kind of nerve? She used to shrink into silence whenever Lucas was near,' she thought. Despite her three-year absence from the city, Emily had ensured she received every scrap of information about Sophia's life. She knew all about Sophia's pathetic attempts to please Lucas, and she knew exactly how little he cared for his wife. She even knew they kept separate bedrooms, and that on the occasional night Lucas spent with Sophia, he always sent her back to her own room afterward. She knew that to Lucas, Sophia was just a body—convenient, disposable, and utterly unimportant. With a dark expression, Lucas grabbed Sophia's wrist and began pulling her toward the exit. Sophia's answer was a sharp, stinging slap across his cheek. The sound cracked through the air, and a dead silence fell over the room. All eyes were fixed on Sophia in pure shock. Everyone was wondering if she had lost her mind to dare something like that. Lucas slowly worked his jaw, the look in his eyes so dark that it promised retribution. When Sophia resisted, Lucas didn't hesitate. He swept her up onto his shoulder and carried her out of the room. The sight made Emily's heart clench. She'd never seen Lucas be so patient with anyone. Before she knew it, her hand was on his arm. "Lucas..." He didn't turn his head, but some of the tension left his expression. "I'm taking her home," he said firmly. "The driver will return for you when you're ready." Emily could only watch as Lucas walked away with Sophia. She had no right to stop him, but it stung—this was the first time he'd ever left her for another woman, especially one who meant nothing. Her hands tightened at her sides. 'I gave you a chance to walk away quietly, Sophia. You brought this on yourself,' she thought. Sophia's protests echoed down the hallway as she struggled against Lucas's hold. Unsure what was happening between the couple, Annabelle turned away, pretending she hadn't noticed them. Lucas carried Sophia into the elevator and stepped out briskly when it reached the basement level. As the car door opened, Lucas tossed Sophia into the back seat. Struggling upright, she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea from the prolonged time she'd spent upside down. She opened her mouth to curse, but the words died on her lips as the tinted window of a nearby Maybach began to descend. In the shadowy interior, the man's profile was sharp and forbidding. His lips were set in a firm line, and he sat with the imposing stillness of an iceberg, his presence pushing others away. Sensing her gaze, he glanced over, and their eyes locked. Without a word, Sophia averted her gaze and hid her face behind a veil of tangled hair. Chapter 7 Not Her Home Anymore Lucas's black Bentley pulled out of the underground parking garage, but Sophia was still lost in thought about those intense eyes. There was something familiar about them, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen them before. Lucas's voice broke the silence. "Did you follow me here? What are you so concerned about?" "What?" Sophia asked, snapping back to reality. Keeping his eyes on the road, Lucas tried to explain. "You know how my friends are—they never think before they speak. Don't take their words seriously. There's nothing going on between Emily and me." 'If there's really nothing between them, why was he being so protective? He only rushed me out because he was worried I might cause a scene and embarrass Emily,' Sophia thought. "Sure," Sophia said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You and Emily are completely innocent." "I'm trying to explain myself here," Lucas said, his patience wearing thin. "Do you have to be so sarcastic?" Her ungrateful attitude was beginning to irritate him. He remembered how she used to soften at the slightest reassurance. Now, it seemed her patience had worn thin. "Understood," Sophia said, her tone flat. "Is that all?" "I've been clear from the beginning—you are my wife, and that won't change. But if you want this marriage to work, you need to drop your little tricks. I won't play these games." Sophia stayed quiet, struck by his assumption that her mention of divorce was merely a plea for attention. Her silence tightened the air between them. "Don't become someone I resent, Sophia," he said with a frown, his voice low. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips as she turned toward the window, shutting him out completely. Sensing he had pushed too far, Lucas eased his tone. "I had your things moved back to our room. If you want to stay with me, just say so. There's no need for all this." Sophia was left speechless. ***** As the car came to a stop in the courtyard of Nightfall Estate, Sophia stepped out. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the cherry blossom grove in the garden. The sight sent a sharp pang through her chest. She forced her gaze away and continued into the villa. Inside, the decor had been completely redone. The new style, with its unmistakable resemblance to the Evans residence, clearly revealed who had overseen the renovations. She moved through rooms that felt entirely alien to her now, but she kept her thoughts to herself since this was no longer her home. Wendy looked surprised when she saw Sophia. "Mrs. Westwood, you've returned. Have you had your supper?" Sinking into the plush pink sofa, Sophia answered quietly, "Yes, thank you." Wendy offered a tight smile before retreating to her quarters to make a hurried phone call to Helen, reporting the unexpected arrival. Helen had never approved of Sophia, whom she saw as a plain nobody not good enough for her son. The infertility diagnosis hardened Helen's resolve to rush the divorce so Lucas could marry someone worthy of giving her grandchildren. The news of Sophia's sudden return after her dramatic departure kept Helen tossing and turning all night. Lucas had been certain Sophia would confront him about the complete makeover of their home. He stood ready to smooth things over, but she walked through the rooms without comment, her silence leaving him more unsettled than any argument would have. "If the decor isn't to your taste..." Lucas moved to sit beside her, his arms beginning to encircle her. Sophia reached for a throw pillow, tucking it between them as she shifted away from his embrace. The gentle rejection stung, though Lucas reassured himself that this was the same woman who had always adored him. "It's true. I prefer my original choices," she said calmly. "Can you have everything returned to how it was?" The warm, elegant furnishings had vanished, replaced by the overwhelming pinks that Emily favored—a transformation that had turned their home into something resembling a kitschy boutique hotel. Lucas shifted uncomfortably. "Let's not make a big deal out of it. You'll get used to the way things are around here." A faint, knowing smile curved on Sophia's lips as she met his gaze. That smile never failed to get under his skin. "Try to see it from her perspective, Sophia," he said, his voice tightening. "After everything she's been through these past three years, all Emily wants is to feel like she belongs." A wave of exhaustion washed over her. It was like talking to a brick wall. "I know," she said flatly. "You have your entire family backing you up," Lucas shot back, his patience clearly wearing thin. "But Emily? She has nobody else. Is it really so hard for you to be a little more compassionate?" "Funny," Sophia replied, her tone icy. "I was under the impression my adoptive parents were still very much alive." Besides, the Evans family had never once ceased to think about Emily throughout those three years. They made trip after trip to Felarica to celebrate Emily's birthdays and attend her parties. They even missed Sophia's wedding to Lucas because of her. A single social media post from Emily, complaining of her loneliness in Felarica, was all it took for them to drop everything and fly to her side. "Now that you've made it out of that dead-end town, you should be the last person to let Emily sink into it," he shot back. As Sophia looked at him, the last glimmer of hope in her eyes vanished. She knew well enough to stop mentioning divorce. To Lucas, it was just another act—proof that she was the same desperate woman the world thought her to be. If she couldn't get through to Lucas, she was going to find another path. Now, with her infertility diagnosis, she knew Helen would be far more impatient to act on this news. Sophia retreated to the master bedroom. Her possessions had claimed their space, with her clothes occupying half of the vast closet. A sense of normalcy had finally settled between her and Lucas, the kind that belongs to a husband and wife. But it was a fragile peace, already beginning to fray. Lucas was still in the living room when Emily returned. The air around her carried the sharp tang of liquor. Her face was deeply flushed, and she swayed slightly as she walked. He was at her side in an instant, his hand gently steadying her. "You've had far too much to drink," he murmured, his brow furrowed with worry. "This isn't good for you. I don't want to see you like this again." Emily turned into him, her arms finding their way around his neck. "I couldn't help it," she whispered, her voice thick with drink and emotion. "It's the only thing that dulls the ache." Sensing her legs might give way, he simply gathered her into his arms. "Wendy," he said to the housekeeper who had appeared, heading for the stairs. "Would you bring up some electrolyte water for Emily?" "Understood," Wendy replied. Playing the part of the drunken mess, Emily clung to Lucas and sobbed into his chest. "I've always regretted it," she cried. "Letting my pride push you away was the biggest mistake of my life." A long-buried tenderness tugged at Lucas's heart. "Let's try again, Lucas. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice," she whispered, tilting her face up to his. Just as their lips were about to meet, the master bedroom door swung open, and the sudden movement startled the couple in the hallway. Sophia stood in the doorway in her pajamas, watching them with a completely expressionless face. Lucas instantly snapped back to reality, and a rare look of panic flashed across his handsome face. "Sophie, Emily is drunk," he said quickly. "I'm just taking her back to her room." Still draped around him, Emily met Sophia's eyes over Lucas's shoulder. The tears were gone, replaced by a cool, triumphant smirk that held no trace of intoxication. Sophia's mouth curved into a humorless smile as she replied, "Yes, and you're drunk too." Without another word, she stepped back and slammed the door, the turn of the lock echoing decisively behind her. The idea of sleeping next to Lucas made her blood boil. She honestly didn't trust herself to lie beside him all night without her rage getting the better of her. Chapter 8 Divorce Settlement The next morning, as Sophia left her room, the guest room door across the hall opened at the exact same time. Lucas was stepping out, finishing with his tie. He glanced up and went completely still, finding Sophia already watching him from their bedroom doorway. Surprise flashed across his face, and he started with an explanation. "She was a mess last night," he said, his voice low. "I couldn't just leave her." Sophia's eyes dropped to the bright red smudge on his collar. Her eyes were filled with silent scorn as she thought about how filthy it was. She said with icy calm, "Relax, I know perfectly well that nothing would ever happen between you two, even when you don't have a stitch of clothing on." Her words cut off whatever excuse Lucas was about to offer. Anger darkened his features. "Think what you want," he snapped. "My feelings for her are purely brotherly." Sophia's eyes fell to the lipstick stain on his collar again. "So, how does it feel to be so close to your 'sister'?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Following her line of sight, Lucas saw the evidence, and a shadow of guilt crossed his face. "It was an accident," he insisted, his voice tight. "Don't make it sound so sordid." "So filthy," she murmured, shaking her head. As he drew a sharp breath to retaliate, she added with a cold smile, "I mean your shirt." He stared at her, his expression turning to stone. She merely offered a careless shrug and walked away, leaving him fuming in the hallway. Downstairs, Sophia was halfway through her breakfast when her phone vibrated on the table. A quick glance at the screen confirmed it was Helen calling. Just then, Wendy appeared with two additional breakfast plates. Sophia swiped to answer the call, a deliberate smile directed at Wendy. "You're calling so early, Mrs. Westwood." The pointed smile made Wendy's blood run cold, and at the mention of Mrs. Westwood, she was reminded of betraying Sophia by reporting to Helen last night. Stricken with guilt, she almost fumbled the tray. She dropped the plates onto the table and hastily retreated to the safety of the kitchen. A faint, cold smile touched Sophia's lips as Helen's venomous voice filled her ear. "Utterly devoid of manners," Helen sneered. "What else can you expect from someone with such a common background?" Sophia's eyes turned to ice. "Trace any lineage back three generations, Mrs. Westwood, and you'll find humble roots. It's distasteful to scorn your own origins." Helen found herself at a loss for words. Though Lucas's parents both had city roots, his grandparents' generation had all struggled in a backwater. Helen's parents had even lived in a cowshed. So in that regard, Helen was no better than Sophia. "That sharp tongue of yours is exactly why people can't stand you," Helen shot back. Sophia rolled her eyes in contempt. Biting back her anger, Helen forced a calmer tone. "We need to meet. There's a document for you to sign." "What kind of document?" "It'll be clear when you get here." Letting the matter drop, Sophia hung up. As she did, she saw Lucas descending the staircase. He had showered and changed, his hair perfectly styled like a model from the pages of a magazine. She had to admit, he was pleasing to look at. 'With those looks, he certainly has the assets for a career as a gigolo,' Sophia thought wryly. A smug feeling warmed Lucas as her eyes stayed on him. He drew out the chair next to hers and sat down. "Paliston Fashion Week is just around the corner," he offered. "It'll be a good chance for us to get away." In three years of marriage, it was the first time he had ever proposed such a thing. Sophia acknowledged him with a quiet hum, but she felt no spark of happiness or expectation. She saw the offer for what it was—a peace offering, born of the guilt he carried after his betrayal. Her ride showed up shortly after breakfast. Picking up her bag, Sophia walked out the door.
Chapter 1 His First Love Returned Sophia Evans could feel her world beginning to crack the moment she heard the news—the woman her husband, Lucas Westwood, had never gotten over was back. When Sophia arrived at the hotel's VIP suite with a gift, she found Lucas's first love—Emily Evans—being humiliated by his childhood friends. "Lick the wine off my shoe, Emily. I'll give you thirty thousand dollars," one of them said. Emily was forced to kneel on the floor, tears in her defiant eyes as she stared shamefully at Lucas. Lucas watched with a dark expression, saying nothing as he held his temper in check. Sophia halted mid-step, struck by the painful familiarity of the scene. Three years ago, when she had first been welcomed into the Evans family, these same privileged young men had tormented her in exactly the same way to gain Emily's favor. But back then, Lucas hadn't worn this expression of utter heartbreak. "There you are," Lucas said as soon as he spotted Sophia, his arm sliding around her waist in a show of intimacy. Only Sophia could feel the desperate pressure of his grip—a silent testament to the pain he was trying to conceal. Lucas's childhood friends had reserved the entire venue for his birthday celebration. But Sophia had never expected Emily to show up here. Everyone knew Lucas had married Sophia just to spite Emily. Three years ago, Emily's identity as a fake heiress was exposed. She broke up with Lucas then and there and left the Evans family behind. Lucas pursued her to the airport, boarded her departing flight, and forced the plane that had already taken off to turn back. Right there on that plane, he proposed to Emily. To his complete surprise, Emily refused without hesitation, declaring that the arranged marriage should be honored by the Evans family's true heiress. Humiliated and acting out of spite, Lucas married Sophia instead. For three years, Sophia had lived as Emily's stand-in. Everyone whispered that if Emily ever returned, Lucas would discard Sophia without a second thought. Sophia had once believed that too, but something had shifted in these past six months—Lucas seemed to be genuinely falling for her. He made grand declarations of love in the press, showered her with luxury homes and cars, and even replaced the cherry tree he'd planted for Emily with a garden full of red roses. In their most tender moments, he'd whisper against her ear, "Let's have a baby, Sophie. I hope they have your smile." Sophia's hand drifted absently to her stomach as she clutched the gift box a little tighter. Inside was a positive pregnancy test—meant to be Lucas's birthday surprise. But now, the timing of the gift felt all wrong. "You still think you're the Evans family princess, Emily? Lucas only has eyes for Sophia now. Why not be with me? A pretty thing like you deserves to be treated right," one of Lucas's friends, Ryan Shaw, sneered. He dragged Emily onto his lap, his hands already roaming over her. "Get your hands off me!" Emily cried, fighting against Ryan's grip as humiliation burned through her. Her resistance only fueled Ryan's excitement. In one swift motion, he shoved her down onto the couch, his powerful body trapping hers. Horrified that Ryan would assault Emily right in front of Lucas, Sophia jumped up to stop him, only to be shoved aside as Lucas already surged into action. As she stumbled, her hands instinctively reached for Lucas's arm, but he brutally shook her off. She hit the floor hard, a jolt of sharp pain shooting from her tailbone straight to her womb. Through the pain-induced haze, she saw Lucas grab Ryan by the collar, drag him off Emily, and pummel his face with brutal, unforgiving fists. "You've overstepped, Ryan. Emily is mine. Even if I discard her, she'll never be yours to touch," Lucas snapped. His words hung in the air, and the entire room fell silent as if frozen in time. Sophia stared at Lucas in disbelief, wondering where she stood in his life now that he had openly claimed Emily as his woman. All eyes in the room were drawn to the scene. Some watched with malicious delight, while others were simply captivated by the unfolding drama. Doubled over in pain, Sophia felt a warm wetness spreading beneath her. Her face paled as a cold dread gripped her heart. "Honey, my stomach hurts," she turned to Lucas instinctively. "Please, take me to the hospital." Without even glancing her way, Lucas removed his jacket and gently placed it around Emily's shoulders. Nestling into his embrace, Emily whispered, her voice trembling, "Lucas, I'm scared. Please take me away from here." "Don't worry," he murmured, holding her close. "I won't let anyone hurt you." Sweeping Emily into his arms, Lucas carried her out of the room, completely ignoring Sophia's pain-racked form shuddering on the floor. Perched comfortably on his shoulder, Emily gazed down at Sophia's crumpled form on the floor, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. The spectators murmured among themselves, still savoring the drama they'd just witnessed. "Emily's definitely the one for Lucas. He hasn't taken his eyes off her all night." "The way Lucas looks at her... I thought it was hatred, but it's clearly something else entirely." "Who could resist someone like her? I certainly wouldn't be able to stay angry." "Poor Sophia. She was just a side character in their love story." At the mention of Sophia's name, the crowd remembered her presence simultaneously, their attention shifting to where she sat. Sophia was in terrible pain and covered in a cold sweat until someone finally noticed her condition and quickly helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?" the guy asked. She gripped his arm tightly as the room spun around her. "Please take me to the hospital. My stomach hurts terribly," she pleaded. Then everything went dark as she fainted. Through the haze of semi-consciousness, distant screams about blood echoed in her ears. When Sophia regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital room. The sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the air as she lay alone in the quiet ward. A nurse tending to her bandages noticed her awakening. "You're awake," she said softly. Sophia's voice came out weak and fearful. "My baby... Is my baby alright?" "Your baby is fine," the nurse reassured her. "But you'll need to take special care. These first few months are particularly delicate in your condition." Relief washed over Sophia as grateful tears fell. "Thank you," she whispered, overwhelmed that her child was safe. Through the emotional turmoil, Sophia's first thought was to share the news with Lucas immediately. Wiping her tears, she reached for her phone and dialed his number. The phone rang several times before Lucas finally picked up. His voice was edged with impatience as he answered, "Not coming home tonight. Don't wait—" "Lucas, my hair's caught in this zipper," Emily's voice interrupted, floating through the line. "Could you give me a hand?" Sophia's knuckles went white around her phone. "Be right there," he said. The call ended before Sophia could form a response. Overnight, things between her and Lucas had reverted to how they were six months ago. Back then, he'd been all cold shoulders and sharp tones. Even in their most intimate moments, he treated her like just another need to be met. To him, she might as well have been a stranger—or worse, just a convenient body. So when he finally let his guard down, she'd been so grateful for the warmth that she fell harder than she ever meant to. She thought her years of longing had finally paid off. But reality slapped her senseless when Lucas chose Emily's safety over their own child's life. After being discharged from the hospital, Sophia caught a taxi home. Midway through the ride, her phone buzzed with a Twitter alert. It was a tweet from Emily: [You told me you'd hold my hand and never let go—not for the rest of our lives.] The attached photo showed Emily dressed like a princess, complete with a tiny crown, her hand locked tightly with a larger, elegant hand. Around the wrist was a bracelet made of prayer beads—the very one Sophia had prayed for in a church last year, when Lucas was burning up with fever. That day, he squeezed her hand and whispered a promise that he would never leave her side. Chapter 2 Ask Him For A Divorce The taxi stopped outside the Nightfall Estate, where Sophia paid the fare and got out of the vehicle. She was just heading inside when a truck carrying young cherry trees rumbled up the drive and stopped near the garden. Workers carefully unloaded the cherry trees and settled them into the prepared holes. Where a vibrant sea of red roses had bloomed just yesterday, now only upturned earth remained, with the plants piled carelessly to the side. A dull ache spread through Sophia's chest as she gazed at the rose petals strewn like crimson tears across the soil. The familiar purr of a luxury car engine approached from behind. Turning around, Sophia saw Lucas step out of the car. He stood tall and straight, radiating a natural air of calm elegance. "Honey..." Sophia began, but the words died on her lips as he leaned back into the car. With gentle care, he helped a woman step out—it was Emily, who looked radiant in an exquisite designer ensemble that made her complexion glow. Only when Emily was steady did Lucas's gaze finally meet Sophia's, those usually warm eyes now regarding her with detached indifference. "Did you need something?" he asked, his tone flat. The cold unfamiliarity in his look struck Sophia's heart like a physical blow. "Why are you tearing out the roses when they were growing so well?" she asked, desperate for his explanation. Those roses had been his special way of confessing his feelings to her. Lucas barely glanced at the destroyed garden. "Emily's not feeling well. She'll be staying with us for a bit." "What does that have to do with the roses?" she pressed. "She's allergic to the pollen," he said curtly, already turning to guide Emily inside. Sophia stood rooted to the spot, her heart breaking. Emily's delicate voice carried through the air. "Lucas, Sophia seems upset. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have complained about the roses." "She doesn't matter to me," Lucas reassured her. "But I worry she'll resent me. Really, I can manage with allergy medication," Emily offered, her voice dripping with false concern. "Medication always has side effects. Don't suggest things that worry me," he replied. Sophia stood motionless as she watched their figures grow smaller in the distance. A silent tear traced its way down her cheek while overwhelming sorrow washed over her. 'I don't matter to him... Yeah, right,' Sophia murmured with bitter irony, the truth of the words settling like a weight in her heart. He hadn't even asked about her absence last night, and now he had ordered her favorite roses to be torn out. The message was clear—she meant less to him than the slightest thought of Emily. For three years, she had devoted herself to him, offering unwavering love and comfort through difficult times. She had believed her constant warmth could thaw even the coldest heart, but Emily's reappearance had erased everything in an instant. She wondered what their intimacy these past six months had truly meant, and what role she had actually played in his life. A sudden twinge in her lower abdomen made her catch her breath. Pale and unsteady, she turned toward the villa. As Sophia stepped into the living room, she saw Emily nestled against Lucas on the sofa, watching with affectionate amusement as he peeled an orange for her. Lucas gently picked away every bit of white pith from the orange segments before arranging them on a plate for Emily. "For you," he said with a soft smile. "Enjoy, my little foodie." As Emily took the plate, she noticed Sophia entering the room. A triumphant smile graced her lips as she called out, "Sophia, would you like some? Lucas peeled these himself. Something you've never experienced, I'm sure." Sophia's gaze fell upon the perfectly prepared orange segments, and she felt a sudden sting behind her eyes. The painful truth was that in all their time together, Lucas had never once peeled an orange for her. She had always been the one serving him. The realization struck her with perfect clarity—Lucas knew well how to be thoughtful, but he simply reserved his kindness for Emily. Sophia felt her heart breaking into pieces as she finally understood how painful comparison could be. "She's perfectly capable of peeling her own fruit," Lucas said dismissively, barely glancing at Sophia. Then he noticed her pale complexion and added, "Are you alright? You look terribly pale." Sophia's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she debated telling Lucas her secret pregnancy. A fragile hope whispered within her—that this truth might finally soften his heart toward her. "I..." Her voice faltered, the words dying on her lips. "If you're ill, see a doctor. This pathetic act is getting tiresome," Lucas said, impatience flashing across his handsome features. He was annoyed by her wounded expression, which seemed to suggest she was the victim of some terrible injustice. Sophia swallowed her unspoken words, her gaze lingering on the man who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. "I'm fine," she murmured. "I'll just go to my room." As she turned toward the staircase, Lucas felt a surge of irritation. 'I must've been too lenient with her, and now she dared to show me attitude,' he thought, fuming. Sophia had only climbed a few steps when the housekeeper, Wendy, appeared descending the stairs with servants carrying boxes. The items looked familiar, but it was the sight of her stuffed doll in Wendy's arms that made Sophia realize everything they carried was hers. In a swift motion, she stepped forward and snatched the doll. Her voice turned icy as she asked, "Wendy, care to explain this?" "Mr. Westwood's orders," Wendy said quietly. "You're to move to the storage room downstairs." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, leaving her mind reeling. She turned to Lucas, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious." They'd already maintained separate bedrooms, but she never imagined that she'd be banished to a storage room instead of even being offered the guest suite after Emily's return. For a fleeting moment under her gaze, Lucas felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly hardened into resolve. "Emily needs the sunroom for her health," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your room gets the best light. It's better for her recovery." The absurdity of it all drew a bitter laugh from Sophia's lips. She thought his previous cruelty—shoving her while pregnant and replacing her roses with Emily's cherry trees—had been the worst it could get. But this new humiliation surpassed even that. All Lucas had done since Emily's return yesterday was talk about her. In just one day, she had turned Sophia's whole life upside down. Sophia expected to feel rage, but instead found only a hollow emptiness settling in her chest. 'Look at him, Sophia,' Sophia thought bitterly. 'This is the man you gave your heart and soul to. Was any of it worth it?' "If you're so worried about her comfort, why not just move her into your room? The master suite gets the best light anyway," Sophia shot back. Lucas responded sharply, "Sophia, you need to watch your tone." Emily's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I know you don't want me here, Sophia. I'll go. Please don't fight with Lucas over me." Sophia saw right through Emily's act. A humorless laugh escaped her as she spat, "You're not going anywhere. I am." Tightening her grip on the stuffed doll, she turned and headed for the door. "Don't you dare, Sophia." Lucas rose to his feet, his voice cutting through the room. "Walk out that door now, and don't expect to ever come back." Sophia's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "I'll make sure you receive the divorce papers," she said, her voice cold and steady. "See that you sign them." "You're asking me for a divorce?" Lucas's voice was low, thick with barely restrained fury. He added, his tone edged with contempt, "Have you forgotten who gave you this life, Sophia? The luxury, the status—all of it came from me. Without my name, you're just that wide-eyed girl fresh off that forgotten little town. You don't get to leave." Chapter 3 The Replaced Medical Result Sophia didn't need to look back to know the condescending smirk that was surely on Lucas's face. She knew he had always despised her. His proposal three years ago had been motivated only by a desire to fulfill the marriage agreement between their families and to exact revenge on Emily. She had been naive enough to believe his empty promises, offering him her genuine love when he saw her as nothing more than a pawn. To him, she would always be a leech, clinging to his wealth and name for survival. But now, she had reached her limit, and she no longer wanted him in her life. Sophia walked out without a backward glance. As she stepped through the gateway, the sound of shattering porcelain echoed behind her, but she no longer cared. Lucas stood amid the shattered remains, fingers pressed to his temples. His face was a mask of simmering anger. He dismissed the mention of divorce as just another one of her calculated moves, a transparent attempt to get his attention by pulling away. Emily watched him hesitantly. "Maybe I shouldn't be staying here, Lucas. Sophia seemed really upset." "It's nothing," Lucas replied evenly. Seeing how the mention of divorce had affected him, she suggested softly, "You could go after her. Women usually respond well to a little reassurance." "I don't have time for that," Lucas said, turning toward the staircase. With a business trip looming, his mind was elsewhere. 'Let her make a scene if she wants to,' he thought. 'She'll cool off and come crawling back. She always does.' ***** Sophia's home was a beautiful 3,200-square-foot apartment with an open-concept layout and sleek modern decor—all paid for with her own earnings. In her study, she printed the divorce papers and a letter resigning from her position. With a steady hand, she signed both, and then summoned a courier to deliver them directly to the Westwood Group. When she married Lucas three years ago, Sophia had joined his company, hoping to build a genuine connection with him. She started at the very bottom as an assistant and gradually earned her way up to department manager. She had wanted nothing more than to be close to him—in their home and at work. But in the end, her efforts were met with cold indifference. Gazing downward, Sophia softly cradled her stomach. "It's just us now, little one," she whispered. The courier arrived at Westwood headquarters while Lucas was away. His chief executive assistant, Kevin Chapman, received the delivery and signed. The moment Kevin saw the contents, he reached for the phone, dialing Lucas's number in haste. "Mr. Westwood, your wife has sent divorce documents." "Burn it all." On the other side of the ocean, Lucas loosened his tie as an unexpected wave of irritation came over him. "But Mrs. Westwood has even submitted her resignation letter..." Kevin replied, his tone hesitant. "She can't survive without this family." The blue flame from Lucas's lighter highlighted the grim set of his features. "Let her be. She'll come crawling back once reality sets in." Meanwhile, Sophia remained completely unaware of his words. Her morning had begun with a call from her mother-in-law, Helen Westwood. "Where are you? Return at once," Helen commanded in her typically imperious manner, leaving no room for discussion. Complying, Sophia drove back to the estate. No sooner had she stepped inside than a velvet box came hurling toward her head, which she narrowly avoided by stepping aside. Helen's shrill voice pierced the air. "How dare you avoid that? You've got some nerve." Sophia's gaze fell upon the velvet box at her feet, and suddenly, she understood why it seemed familiar. She remembered purchasing that exact box to store her pregnancy test results. On Lucas's birthday, she had intended to present it to him as a gift, but he had accidentally pushed her before she could give it to him, resulting in her hospitalization. Her heart leaped as she turned to face Helen's livid expression. 'Could she know about the pregnancy? But something about her reaction seems strange,' she wondered. For three years, Helen had made no secret of her disapproval of Sophia, someone raised in a small town. Yet every time Sophia visited the Westwood residence with Lucas, Helen would consistently nag Sophia about starting a family soon. If Helen knew Sophia was pregnant, she was supposed to be absolutely delighted instead of reacting like this. Helen clutched a medical report, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared down Sophia. "For three years, I've watched your marriage to Lucas, wondering why you never conceived. Now I understand—he married a barren woman. "If you hadn't left this at the hotel and Lucas's friend hadn't been kind enough to deliver it, I'd still be in the dark about your condition." Heart pounding with shock, Sophia ignored Helen's murderous gaze and snatched the document from her hand. The clinical report lay cold and pale in the morning light. There was her name, clearly printed, alongside the devastating diagnosis: "permanent infertility." 'Permanent infertility? But that's impossible. I'm pregnant. Someone must have switched my test results. But who would do such a thing?' Sophia wondered. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "This isn't my..." Emily, who had remained silent until now, suddenly interrupted, "Sophia, the Westwood lineage has been passed down through a single heir for ten generations. Are you trying to ensure Lucas dies without an heir? To extinguish the family line completely?" "How utterly heartless!" Helen exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Sophia as her anger reached its peak. "We've welcomed you with open arms since you married into this family. Yet you've been hiding this from us? To think you'd let our family line die out—it's truly despicable!" she added. Sophia didn't even attempt to explain herself. If they wanted to believe she was barren, so be it—it would only simplify the divorce proceedings. "I only received the results two days ago. I hadn't found the right moment to share the news," Sophia replied, her voice calm. "This wasn't about finding the right moment. You did this intentionally," Helen retorted, her face contorted with rage. "And you planned to give this to Lucas as a gift? What kind of twisted mind would conceive such a thing?" Sophia maintained her silence. Helen took a measured breath, forcing her anger down. "If you can't conceive naturally, I won't hold it against you. I've spoken with Emily, and she's agreed to donate her eggs so you and Lucas can pursue in vitro fertilization." Sophia stared in disbelief at the unexpected turn. "Could you repeat that?" She believed she had misheard because the suggestion was both preposterous and deeply offensive. "If you can't conceive, that's your problem. Emily is being extraordinarily generous by offering her eggs. The least you could do is show some appreciation instead of this ingratitude," Helen sneered. A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. "Perhaps you'd like to accept this generous offer yourself?" "How dare you speak to me like that!" Helen's eyes flashed with fury. "Sophia, you shouldn't speak to Mrs. Westwood that way. She was suggesting that for your sake," Emily said in a honeyed tone, reaching for the glass. As she moved, she made certain to display the prayer beads circling her delicate wrist. Sophia's breath caught—she would recognize the bracelet anywhere. That was the very ones she had sacrificed so much to obtain while praying for Lucas's recovery. It felt like a personal insult, seeing the bracelet that symbolized her love for Lucas now clasped around Emily's wrist. "For my sake?" Sophia repeated, the words tasting bitter as she caught the sly glint of satisfaction in Emily's eyes. It sent a sharp ache through her. She knew this game all too well. Emily had a gift for twisting people's vulnerabilities to her advantage, a lesson Sophia had learned the hard way three years ago. "I'm infertile. What possible use could I have for your eggs?" Sophia asked, her voice cold. "Do you really think I need a constant reminder of what I can't have?" Emily's smile vanished. For Helen's benefit, she bit her lip, her eyes instantly welling with feigned hurt. "Mrs. Westwood," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "I was only trying to help Sophia." Helen immediately comforted Emily by patting her hand. She then shot Sophia a disapproving look. "How can you be so selfish, Sophia? Are you really determined to let the Westwood family line die out?" Sophia gestured dismissively toward Emily. "Well, if she's so fertile, let her handle the baby-making." The thought of Emily getting to be a mother the easy way turned Sophia's stomach. Chapter 4 Take Back Her Things The color drained from both Helen's and Emily's faces. Helen stepped forward, jabbing a finger toward Sophia. "You think you're better than us? Then you give the Westwood family an heir. Don't blame anyone else for your own useless womb." Sophia bit back the sharp retort on her tongue. She was done with this family, done with Lucas. Arguing now would only prolong the inevitable. "Mrs. Westwood," she began, "I've decided—" Lucas's familiar, deep voice cut through the tension from the doorway. "Decided what?" Sophia turned to see Lucas standing there, his clothes rumpled from travel. His assistant, Kevin, hovered behind him with a suitcase in hand. The air in the room was thick with tension, so Kevin knew better than to stay. He simply left the suitcase by the door and made a quick exit. Loosening his tie, Lucas turned to Helen. "Mom, what brings you here?" "If I hadn't come, you'd have let our family name die out," Helen shot back. She then snatched the medical report from Sophia and flung it at Lucas's chest. "See for yourself," she said coldly, and with that, she swept out of the room. Lucas looked down at the document in his hands, and the words "permanent infertility" caused a faint twitch in his brow. His eyes, when they finally lifted to meet Sophia's, were devoid of warmth. "You'll go back to the hospital tomorrow for a full work-up. I will not have a wife who can't give me an heir." A hollow ache spread through Sophia's chest. Any foolish hope she'd been clinging to finally faded. Lucas had never defended her in three years of his mother's constant belittlement. And now, the ease with which he believed this lie revealed the chilling truth of his character. "I have the divorce papers right here," Sophia said, pulling the documents from her bag. She extended them toward him, her voice steady. "Just sign them, and you'll never have to see me again." Lucas didn't even look at the papers. In one swift motion, his hand closed around her throat, pulling her close. He leaned in until his face was mere inches from hers, and she could feel his warm breath and smell the familiar scent of his cologne. There was a time when this closeness would have made her heart flutter. Now, it only made her skin crawl. It was amazing how easy it was to walk away when all the love had drained away. "Sophia, have I been too soft with you?" Lucas's voice was thick with contempt. "Where exactly do you think you'll go without my protection?" She held his gaze without flinching. "That's really none of your concern anymore." "Still got that sharp tongue," he sneered. He released her with a dismissive shove, as if her defiance meant nothing. "Go make me dinner. I'm hungry." A wave of pain shot through Sophia's lower abdomen as she sank into the sofa, her skin turning clammy with an instant, cold sweat. Across the room, Emily slid her arm through Lucas's with practiced ease. "Don't let Sophia bother you," she murmured. "Her little scene was just a cry for your attention." Lucas pulled his tie free, his stern expression melting away as he focused on Emily. "How are you holding up?" he asked, his tone gentler. "I'm fine," she sighed, putting on a pitiful face. "It's just that the medicine is so awfully bitter." "It's bitter because it's strong. You need to keep taking it," he reminded her. "I picked up those candies you like. They're in my suitcase. Go get them yourself." "I know you always look out for me," Emily said, stretching up to press a light kiss to Lucas's cheek. "Consider that your reward." A look of quiet satisfaction crossed his features at the gesture. "I'm going up to shower," he said. "Go ahead," Emily said sweetly, fluttering a wave at him. She waited until Lucas's footsteps faded up the staircase before turning to the suitcase. They carried on as if Sophia weren't standing right there in the same room. Humming cheerfully, Emily unzipped the luggage. Alongside Lucas's neatly folded clothes sat a jar of shimmering candies and an elegant red velvet box that clearly held something valuable. Her eyes skipped over the candy, going straight to the velvet box. When she lifted the lid, a pink diamond necklace lay gleaming, its facets scattering rainbows in the light. "Oh, it's exquisite. I love it," she whispered, her eyes widening. "So the candy was just a decoy. This necklace is what he really wanted me to find." Draping the necklace against her collarbone, Emily turned to face Sophia, who had risen from the sofa. "Well, Sophia? Don't you think it suits me perfectly?" The pink diamond necklace around Emily's neck struck Sophia as oddly familiar. It came to her a moment later—she had coveted it last month while flipping through a magazine. Lucas had seen her fascination and promised to get it for her. The catch was its exclusivity—a single piece, sourced from Melaria, the country where Lucas had been attending to business. "That was for me," Sophia said, her voice calm. The man was disposable, but her possessions were not. She would reclaim what was rightfully hers. With a swift motion, Emily clasped the necklace. "Finders keepers," she said with a mocking grin. Sophia approached for a closer look. Though the necklace was more exquisite than its photograph, any desire for it had vanished. A wary look crossed Emily's face. "What is this about?" "To take what belongs to me, of course," Sophia said, stepping close and extending her hand. "It's time you returned it." Emily's hands instinctively flew to the diamond necklace at her throat. "Lucas will never stand for this, Sophia. You know what I mean to him." Sophia almost laughed. She knew well that Emily held a special place in Lucas's heart. But that was irrelevant. She was only claiming what was hers. "Give the bracelet back to me," Sophia said coldly. It was a token earned through true devotion, and she wouldn't let its significance be tarnished. Realizing Sophia only wanted the simple bracelet, Emily smiled condescendingly. 'Some shortsighted people have no taste,' she thought. Emily twisted the bracelet around her wrist. "I heard you went to Grace Abbey to beg for this good-luck charm," she said. "You are so hung up on him, aren't you?" The hypocrisy of her words was almost laughable. "Give it back," Sophia said, her voice like ice. Emily's eyes flickered to a point behind Sophia, and a sly smile touched her lips. She lowered her voice. "If you want it so badly, why don't you come and take it?" Sophia didn't stop to think. She grabbed Emily's wrist and tugged the bracelet free. The moment it was off, Emily's demeanor shifted completely. "Sophia, what are you doing?" she cried out, her voice suddenly loud and panicked. "Lucas gave this to me." Before Sophia could even turn around, a powerful hand seized her by the collar and hauled her backwards. The fabric dug sharply into her throat, stealing her breath. Stumbling to regain her footing, Sophia looked up to see Lucas. He was already cradling Emily. "Emily, are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern. Emily buried her face in his chest. "I'm fine," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Please, don't be angry with Sophia. She didn't mean it." Lucas's jaw tightened, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. He took a deep breath and fixed Sophia with an icy stare. "Apologize to Emily." Chapter 5 She Wants A Clean Break A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. She had fooled herself into thinking she was numb to Lucas's coldness. But his command still sent a fresh, sharp pain through her chest. She knew there was no point arguing with a man who had already chosen the other woman's side. "I won't apologize," Sophia said, her fist closing tightly around the bracelet. "What for?" Emily looked up at Lucas with well-practiced vulnerability. "I'm causing trouble here, Lucas. I should go." Lucas caught her wrist before she could take a second step. "You're staying right here." His attention snapped back to Sophia, his expression darkening. "Now, Sophia, apologize to Emily." The room blurred as tears filled Sophia's eyes, twisting his familiar face into a stranger's. She lifted the simple bracelet between them. "This is my stuff in the first place. Since when is taking back what was stolen a crime?" "Your stuff? Since when do you have anything of your own?" Lucas's lips curled in a sneer. "I've paid for every stitch of clothing on your back." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, forcing a bitter laugh from her lips. He knew perfectly well she earned her own living, yet he took every opportunity to demean her. "This bracelet came from Grace Abbey," she countered, her voice trembling. "You didn't pay a cent for it." Lucas's eyes dropped to the simple beads in her palm. "You think I care about some cheap bracelet?" he scoffed. Hot tears streamed down Sophia's face without warning. Wiping them away, Sophia made a silent vow—this would be the last time he reduced her to this. "Fine!" With one sharp motion, she snapped the bracelet's cord, sending beads skittering across the floor. Lucas watched the scattered beads come to rest, his hand curling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. He knew how much that bracelet meant to her, but the moment Emily wanted it, he didn't hesitate to take it off and hand it over. Lucas's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "Sophia!" "I want a divorce," Sophia said, her voice eerily calm. As she opened her hand, the last bead from the bracelet clattered onto the floor between them. "Let's just end this." The sound was small, but in the tense silence, it was deafening, echoing in Lucas's mind. He let out a short laugh, his gaze locked on her. "You think a threat will work? You should know better than that by now." 'This has to be a ploy,' he thought to himself. 'She loves me too much to go through with it. She has accepted her role as Emily's replacement from the beginning and has never once tried to leave. 'She would never have the strength to walk away from me.' "Go make us something to eat, and we can forget this ever happened." Lucas was certain he had thrown Sophia a lifeline. He waited, fully expecting her to be overcome with relief and scurry off to the kitchen. He'd been away on business, and days of unfamiliar rich food had left his stomach unsettled. What he craved was Sophia's cooking—simple, hearty food that tasted like home. It was a flavor he couldn't find anywhere else. "You can go eat your ass," Sophia shot back. She picked up her bag, her lips twisting into a scornful smile, and walked out without a backward glance. That smile grated on Lucas's nerves more than the insult itself. In his frustration, his eyes fell on the string of prayer beads lying scattered on the floor, and he gave them an impatient kick. 'So that's her game. She wants to challenge me? I'd like to see just how long her resolve will hold,' he thought, fuming. ***** Sophia sped away from Nightfall Estate, her phone buzzing relentlessly on the passenger seat. Lucas's name flashed across the screen again and again until she finally grabbed it and blocked his number for good. When she looked up at the road, she blinked, her vision blurring for a moment. She braced for the familiar sting of tears, but when her fingers touched her skin, it was dry. It was only then that she noticed the soft patter against the windshield. A fine drizzle had begun to fall, and a quiet melancholy settled over her, as gray as the sky. Up ahead, the flickering hazard lights of a sleek black car broke the rhythm of the rain. A man in a soaked suit, looking to be in his forties, stood beside it, waving frantically at passing traffic. Almost without conscious thought, Sophia found herself flipping on her turn signal and pulling over. She rolled down her window as the man rushed over. "Everything okay?" she asked. "It's my boss," the man said, his voice tight with panic. "He's having a heart attack. The ambulance is stuck in a multi-car accident. Please, can you take us to the hospital?" Sophia hesitated. Letting two strange men into her car, especially in this weather, felt dangerous. Every cautionary tale she'd ever heard flashed through her mind. Seeing her hesitation, the man added urgently, "I promise we're not dangerous. My boss is—" But Sophia was already moving, cutting the engine and stepping out into the downpour. "Just get him to my car, now," she called out as she rushed toward their vehicle. As she got closer, she recognized the distinctive emblem of the black Maybach. Working together, they carefully transferred the elderly man from the luxury sedan into Sophia's more modest car. The old man's lips were tinged with blue, and each ragged breath seemed like a struggle, clear signs of his critical condition. Sliding behind the wheel, Sophia started the car and pulled back onto the road, pushing through the veils of rain. In the backseat, the middle-aged man was a whirlwind of activity on his phone, coordinating with a hospital and alerting the family. Beyond the windows, the storm seemed to intensify, as if trying to match the urgency inside the car. After ensuring everything was in place, the man turned to Sophia with heartfelt appreciation. "You're the only one who stopped in this downpour. We can't thank you enough." A warm smile touched Sophia's lips. "Some things are just meant to be." ***** Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital entrance where medical staff stood ready. The team swiftly transferred the elderly man to a stretcher and hurried him inside for emergency care. Just as Sophia was about to drive away, she spotted a lone leather shoe in the backseat—the one the elderly man had been wearing. After a moment's hesitation, she parked properly and carried the shoe to the reception desk, logging it as a lost item. Sophia was just turning to leave when a group emerged from the hospital's main entrance. At the front of the group was a man whose height and posture commanded attention. He turned his sharp gaze on her, and the intensity in his eyes was so commanding that it felt like a physical pressure. 'That frown means trouble,' Sophia thought. She averted her gaze and continued walking, brushing past the group without a second look. It wasn't until she was back in the driver's seat that she felt the chill of her wet clothes clinging to her skin. As she dried her hair with a towel from the backseat, a notification popped up on her phone while she was opening the navigation app. It was a post from Emily: [Nothing says 'forever' like a soft-boiled egg made with love! My ultimate comfort food.] The post featured two photos—one showed a soft-boiled egg with a ketchup heart, and the other captured a tall man's back as he stood at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Sophia couldn't help but compare. When she was with Lucas, he had acted like even pouring her a glass of water was a significant concession. Cooking a meal was utterly out of the question. The fact that he was now cooking for Emily spoke volumes about where his true affections lay. She closed the page and entered her apartment address into the navigation system before driving out of the parking lot. As she watched the heavy rain outside, a single decisive thought crystallized in her mind—this marriage was over. Chapter 6 Return The Trash To The Dumpster That evening, a text came through from Annabelle Quinn, Sophia's best friend since college, insisting they go out to a lounge. The old Sophia would have declined immediately, conditioned to obey Lucas's rule about her not going out. But now that Sophia was divorcing him, his opinions held no weight. ***** The moment Sophia stepped out of the car, she saw Annabelle waiting by the entrance. "Hope you haven't been waiting long," she said as she approached. "Just got here," Annabelle grinned, looping her arm through Sophia's. "So, what's the special occasion? Did you finally get a night off from your sweetheart?" Sophia struggled to find the words, but she couldn't keep it from her best friend. "I'm getting a divorce," she finally said. "Let me guess," Annabelle said, not one to mince words in front of her best friend. "This is about Emily being back, isn't it?" "It's not just that," Sophia admitted, her voice quiet. It just took seeing the difference for herself to truly see how little her three years of effort had meant. Annabelle threw a supportive arm around Sophia's shoulders. "You should have woken up to this a long time ago." For three years, she had watched Sophia lose herself in a hollow relationship, and it killed Annabelle to see her friend throw everything away for a man who never appreciated her. "Better late than never," Sophia offered with a weak smile. "Damn right it is," Annabelle declared. "Tonight, I'm getting us the best male models in town. You deserve some real attention." They ascended into the pulsating heart of the club, pushing through the glittering crowd toward the exclusive booth Annabelle had booked. As they moved past the entrance to a private booth, a burst of laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway. Amid the noise, Sophia's own name caught her sharp ear. "Got to hand it to Lucas. The minute Emily was back, he moved her right in. Word is, he showed Sophia the door." "Well, she had it coming. Play the simp, and you lose it all. Seriously though, that night in the booth with all the blood? I truly thought a tragedy had occurred, but it was probably just her period." "You're thinking about that? Man, have you had a thing for Sophia all along?" "Who'd pine after some nobody from a backwater? Only Lucas, with his unique preferences, would stick around for three years." "Guess the novelty wore off. Time for a change." Standing in the hallway, Sophia felt a cold stillness settle behind her eyes. The voices clicked into place—Lucas's oldest friends. They had been there that night, spectators to her most shameful moment. Annabelle's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind." But as she moved toward the door, Sophia stopped her with a gentle hand. "This is my battle to fight," Sophia said firmly. With that, Sophia pushed the door open and swept into the room. She settled gracefully onto the sofa, joining their conversation with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you're talking about unique preferences, I top him," she began, her voice deceptively light, "I recycled what Emily threw away. But it looks like I did everyone a favor by returning the trash to the dumpster where it belongs." A stunned silence fell over the room. Every face on the circular sofa stared at her in horrified fascination. Unbeknownst to Sophia, two figures had entered the room behind her during her speech. The guests' eyes darted nervously between Sophia and the newcomers, the air thickening with tension. There stood Lucas and Emily, their expressions dark as storm clouds. Their presence made Sophia turn. Her eyes instantly met the cold, dark stare of Lucas. But she didn't back down. A defiant shrug lifted her shoulders. "Look what the cat dragged in. My trash husband." Emily's eyes instantly glistened with tears. "Sophia, ignore them," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "It's all lies. Lucas and I are just friends." As if to prove her point, she clutched Lucas's arm. "Tell her, Lucas. Make her understand there's nothing going on between us." Sophia's gaze dropped to the hand clinging to Lucas's arm, and a faint, derisive smile touched her mouth. 'Just friends? Did she really expect anyone to believe that?' she thought bitterly. Lucas detached himself from Emily's grip and closed the distance between him and Sophia. The motion broke the tension, stirring his friends into action. "Hey, Lucas, take it easy," one of them said, stepping forward. "She's just reacting to our stupid jokes." "Come on, Sophia, just say you're sorry to Lucas," another one urged. "You know he'll forgive you." The suggestion made Sophia want to laugh bitterly. 'Is this really how they see me? As some lovesick fool who'd come crawling back at the first sign of forgiveness?' she thought. It explained everything—why, for three years, they had shown her phony respect as Lucas's wife while mocking her devotion in private. She had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn't met Lucas seven years ago, if that fateful incident hadn't tied her to him, she would have moved on with her life long ago. "Are you quite done?" Lucas's voice cut through her thoughts as he reached for her arm. She shifted her weight gracefully, letting his hand close on empty air. The rejected gesture hung between them for a beat too long before he withdrew, his features tightening with displeasure. Turning to Emily, who was now dabbing at her eyes, Sophia arched a brow. "There's no need for the waterworks. You're making it look like I'm the one being cruel here." "Sophia, I've treated you like my elder sister. I—" Emily began, trying to defend herself. "Don't," Sophia interrupted, her voice cool. "We arrived minutes apart, and you were first. Let's skip the emotional act." Emily's face turned from pale to deep red as she clenched her jaw in fury. 'Since when has Sophia found this kind of nerve? She used to shrink into silence whenever Lucas was near,' she thought. Despite her three-year absence from the city, Emily had ensured she received every scrap of information about Sophia's life. She knew all about Sophia's pathetic attempts to please Lucas, and she knew exactly how little he cared for his wife. She even knew they kept separate bedrooms, and that on the occasional night Lucas spent with Sophia, he always sent her back to her own room afterward. She knew that to Lucas, Sophia was just a body—convenient, disposable, and utterly unimportant. With a dark expression, Lucas grabbed Sophia's wrist and began pulling her toward the exit. Sophia's answer was a sharp, stinging slap across his cheek. The sound cracked through the air, and a dead silence fell over the room. All eyes were fixed on Sophia in pure shock. Everyone was wondering if she had lost her mind to dare something like that. Lucas slowly worked his jaw, the look in his eyes so dark that it promised retribution. When Sophia resisted, Lucas didn't hesitate. He swept her up onto his shoulder and carried her out of the room. The sight made Emily's heart clench. She'd never seen Lucas be so patient with anyone. Before she knew it, her hand was on his arm. "Lucas..." He didn't turn his head, but some of the tension left his expression. "I'm taking her home," he said firmly. "The driver will return for you when you're ready." Emily could only watch as Lucas walked away with Sophia. She had no right to stop him, but it stung—this was the first time he'd ever left her for another woman, especially one who meant nothing. Her hands tightened at her sides. 'I gave you a chance to walk away quietly, Sophia. You brought this on yourself,' she thought. Sophia's protests echoed down the hallway as she struggled against Lucas's hold. Unsure what was happening between the couple, Annabelle turned away, pretending she hadn't noticed them. Lucas carried Sophia into the elevator and stepped out briskly when it reached the basement level. As the car door opened, Lucas tossed Sophia into the back seat. Struggling upright, she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea from the prolonged time she'd spent upside down. She opened her mouth to curse, but the words died on her lips as the tinted window of a nearby Maybach began to descend. In the shadowy interior, the man's profile was sharp and forbidding. His lips were set in a firm line, and he sat with the imposing stillness of an iceberg, his presence pushing others away. Sensing her gaze, he glanced over, and their eyes locked. Without a word, Sophia averted her gaze and hid her face behind a veil of tangled hair. Chapter 7 Not Her Home Anymore Lucas's black Bentley pulled out of the underground parking garage, but Sophia was still lost in thought about those intense eyes. There was something familiar about them, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen them before. Lucas's voice broke the silence. "Did you follow me here? What are you so concerned about?" "What?" Sophia asked, snapping back to reality. Keeping his eyes on the road, Lucas tried to explain. "You know how my friends are—they never think before they speak. Don't take their words seriously. There's nothing going on between Emily and me." 'If there's really nothing between them, why was he being so protective? He only rushed me out because he was worried I might cause a scene and embarrass Emily,' Sophia thought. "Sure," Sophia said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You and Emily are completely innocent." "I'm trying to explain myself here," Lucas said, his patience wearing thin. "Do you have to be so sarcastic?" Her ungrateful attitude was beginning to irritate him. He remembered how she used to soften at the slightest reassurance. Now, it seemed her patience had worn thin. "Understood," Sophia said, her tone flat. "Is that all?" "I've been clear from the beginning—you are my wife, and that won't change. But if you want this marriage to work, you need to drop your little tricks. I won't play these games." Sophia stayed quiet, struck by his assumption that her mention of divorce was merely a plea for attention. Her silence tightened the air between them. "Don't become someone I resent, Sophia," he said with a frown, his voice low. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips as she turned toward the window, shutting him out completely. Sensing he had pushed too far, Lucas eased his tone. "I had your things moved back to our room. If you want to stay with me, just say so. There's no need for all this." Sophia was left speechless. ***** As the car came to a stop in the courtyard of Nightfall Estate, Sophia stepped out. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the cherry blossom grove in the garden. The sight sent a sharp pang through her chest. She forced her gaze away and continued into the villa. Inside, the decor had been completely redone. The new style, with its unmistakable resemblance to the Evans residence, clearly revealed who had overseen the renovations. She moved through rooms that felt entirely alien to her now, but she kept her thoughts to herself since this was no longer her home. Wendy looked surprised when she saw Sophia. "Mrs. Westwood, you've returned. Have you had your supper?" Sinking into the plush pink sofa, Sophia answered quietly, "Yes, thank you." Wendy offered a tight smile before retreating to her quarters to make a hurried phone call to Helen, reporting the unexpected arrival. Helen had never approved of Sophia, whom she saw as a plain nobody not good enough for her son. The infertility diagnosis hardened Helen's resolve to rush the divorce so Lucas could marry someone worthy of giving her grandchildren. The news of Sophia's sudden return after her dramatic departure kept Helen tossing and turning all night. Lucas had been certain Sophia would confront him about the complete makeover of their home. He stood ready to smooth things over, but she walked through the rooms without comment, her silence leaving him more unsettled than any argument would have. "If the decor isn't to your taste..." Lucas moved to sit beside her, his arms beginning to encircle her. Sophia reached for a throw pillow, tucking it between them as she shifted away from his embrace. The gentle rejection stung, though Lucas reassured himself that this was the same woman who had always adored him. "It's true. I prefer my original choices," she said calmly. "Can you have everything returned to how it was?" The warm, elegant furnishings had vanished, replaced by the overwhelming pinks that Emily favored—a transformation that had turned their home into something resembling a kitschy boutique hotel. Lucas shifted uncomfortably. "Let's not make a big deal out of it. You'll get used to the way things are around here." A faint, knowing smile curved on Sophia's lips as she met his gaze. That smile never failed to get under his skin. "Try to see it from her perspective, Sophia," he said, his voice tightening. "After everything she's been through these past three years, all Emily wants is to feel like she belongs." A wave of exhaustion washed over her. It was like talking to a brick wall. "I know," she said flatly. "You have your entire family backing you up," Lucas shot back, his patience clearly wearing thin. "But Emily? She has nobody else. Is it really so hard for you to be a little more compassionate?" "Funny," Sophia replied, her tone icy. "I was under the impression my adoptive parents were still very much alive." Besides, the Evans family had never once ceased to think about Emily throughout those three years. They made trip after trip to Felarica to celebrate Emily's birthdays and attend her parties. They even missed Sophia's wedding to Lucas because of her. A single social media post from Emily, complaining of her loneliness in Felarica, was all it took for them to drop everything and fly to her side. "Now that you've made it out of that dead-end town, you should be the last person to let Emily sink into it," he shot back. As Sophia looked at him, the last glimmer of hope in her eyes vanished. She knew well enough to stop mentioning divorce. To Lucas, it was just another act—proof that she was the same desperate woman the world thought her to be. If she couldn't get through to Lucas, she was going to find another path. Now, with her infertility diagnosis, she knew Helen would be far more impatient to act on this news. Sophia retreated to the master bedroom. Her possessions had claimed their space, with her clothes occupying half of the vast closet. A sense of normalcy had finally settled between her and Lucas, the kind that belongs to a husband and wife. But it was a fragile peace, already beginning to fray. Lucas was still in the living room when Emily returned. The air around her carried the sharp tang of liquor. Her face was deeply flushed, and she swayed slightly as she walked. He was at her side in an instant, his hand gently steadying her. "You've had far too much to drink," he murmured, his brow furrowed with worry. "This isn't good for you. I don't want to see you like this again." Emily turned into him, her arms finding their way around his neck. "I couldn't help it," she whispered, her voice thick with drink and emotion. "It's the only thing that dulls the ache." Sensing her legs might give way, he simply gathered her into his arms. "Wendy," he said to the housekeeper who had appeared, heading for the stairs. "Would you bring up some electrolyte water for Emily?" "Understood," Wendy replied. Playing the part of the drunken mess, Emily clung to Lucas and sobbed into his chest. "I've always regretted it," she cried. "Letting my pride push you away was the biggest mistake of my life." A long-buried tenderness tugged at Lucas's heart. "Let's try again, Lucas. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice," she whispered, tilting her face up to his. Just as their lips were about to meet, the master bedroom door swung open, and the sudden movement startled the couple in the hallway. Sophia stood in the doorway in her pajamas, watching them with a completely expressionless face. Lucas instantly snapped back to reality, and a rare look of panic flashed across his handsome face. "Sophie, Emily is drunk," he said quickly. "I'm just taking her back to her room." Still draped around him, Emily met Sophia's eyes over Lucas's shoulder. The tears were gone, replaced by a cool, triumphant smirk that held no trace of intoxication. Sophia's mouth curved into a humorless smile as she replied, "Yes, and you're drunk too." Without another word, she stepped back and slammed the door, the turn of the lock echoing decisively behind her. The idea of sleeping next to Lucas made her blood boil. She honestly didn't trust herself to lie beside him all night without her rage getting the better of her. Chapter 8 Divorce Settlement The next morning, as Sophia left her room, the guest room door across the hall opened at the exact same time. Lucas was stepping out, finishing with his tie. He glanced up and went completely still, finding Sophia already watching him from their bedroom doorway. Surprise flashed across his face, and he started with an explanation. "She was a mess last night," he said, his voice low. "I couldn't just leave her." Sophia's eyes dropped to the bright red smudge on his collar. Her eyes were filled with silent scorn as she thought about how filthy it was. She said with icy calm, "Relax, I know perfectly well that nothing would ever happen between you two, even when you don't have a stitch of clothing on." Her words cut off whatever excuse Lucas was about to offer. Anger darkened his features. "Think what you want," he snapped. "My feelings for her are purely brotherly." Sophia's eyes fell to the lipstick stain on his collar again. "So, how does it feel to be so close to your 'sister'?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Following her line of sight, Lucas saw the evidence, and a shadow of guilt crossed his face. "It was an accident," he insisted, his voice tight. "Don't make it sound so sordid." "So filthy," she murmured, shaking her head. As he drew a sharp breath to retaliate, she added with a cold smile, "I mean your shirt." He stared at her, his expression turning to stone. She merely offered a careless shrug and walked away, leaving him fuming in the hallway. Downstairs, Sophia was halfway through her breakfast when her phone vibrated on the table. A quick glance at the screen confirmed it was Helen calling. Just then, Wendy appeared with two additional breakfast plates. Sophia swiped to answer the call, a deliberate smile directed at Wendy. "You're calling so early, Mrs. Westwood." The pointed smile made Wendy's blood run cold, and at the mention of Mrs. Westwood, she was reminded of betraying Sophia by reporting to Helen last night. Stricken with guilt, she almost fumbled the tray. She dropped the plates onto the table and hastily retreated to the safety of the kitchen. A faint, cold smile touched Sophia's lips as Helen's venomous voice filled her ear. "Utterly devoid of manners," Helen sneered. "What else can you expect from someone with such a common background?" Sophia's eyes turned to ice. "Trace any lineage back three generations, Mrs. Westwood, and you'll find humble roots. It's distasteful to scorn your own origins." Helen found herself at a loss for words. Though Lucas's parents both had city roots, his grandparents' generation had all struggled in a backwater. Helen's parents had even lived in a cowshed. So in that regard, Helen was no better than Sophia. "That sharp tongue of yours is exactly why people can't stand you," Helen shot back. Sophia rolled her eyes in contempt. Biting back her anger, Helen forced a calmer tone. "We need to meet. There's a document for you to sign." "What kind of document?" "It'll be clear when you get here." Letting the matter drop, Sophia hung up. As she did, she saw Lucas descending the staircase. He had showered and changed, his hair perfectly styled like a model from the pages of a magazine. She had to admit, he was pleasing to look at. 'With those looks, he certainly has the assets for a career as a gigolo,' Sophia thought wryly. A smug feeling warmed Lucas as her eyes stayed on him. He drew out the chair next to hers and sat down. "Paliston Fashion Week is just around the corner," he offered. "It'll be a good chance for us to get away." In three years of marriage, it was the first time he had ever proposed such a thing. Sophia acknowledged him with a quiet hum, but she felt no spark of happiness or expectation. She saw the offer for what it was—a peace offering, born of the guilt he carried after his betrayal. Her ride showed up shortly after breakfast. Picking up her bag, Sophia walked out the door.
Chapter 1 His First Love Returned Sophia Evans could feel her world beginning to crack the moment she heard the news—the woman her husband, Lucas Westwood, had never gotten over was back. When Sophia arrived at the hotel's VIP suite with a gift, she found Lucas's first love—Emily Evans—being humiliated by his childhood friends. "Lick the wine off my shoe, Emily. I'll give you thirty thousand dollars," one of them said. Emily was forced to kneel on the floor, tears in her defiant eyes as she stared shamefully at Lucas. Lucas watched with a dark expression, saying nothing as he held his temper in check. Sophia halted mid-step, struck by the painful familiarity of the scene. Three years ago, when she had first been welcomed into the Evans family, these same privileged young men had tormented her in exactly the same way to gain Emily's favor. But back then, Lucas hadn't worn this expression of utter heartbreak. "There you are," Lucas said as soon as he spotted Sophia, his arm sliding around her waist in a show of intimacy. Only Sophia could feel the desperate pressure of his grip—a silent testament to the pain he was trying to conceal. Lucas's childhood friends had reserved the entire venue for his birthday celebration. But Sophia had never expected Emily to show up here. Everyone knew Lucas had married Sophia just to spite Emily. Three years ago, Emily's identity as a fake heiress was exposed. She broke up with Lucas then and there and left the Evans family behind. Lucas pursued her to the airport, boarded her departing flight, and forced the plane that had already taken off to turn back. Right there on that plane, he proposed to Emily. To his complete surprise, Emily refused without hesitation, declaring that the arranged marriage should be honored by the Evans family's true heiress. Humiliated and acting out of spite, Lucas married Sophia instead. For three years, Sophia had lived as Emily's stand-in. Everyone whispered that if Emily ever returned, Lucas would discard Sophia without a second thought. Sophia had once believed that too, but something had shifted in these past six months—Lucas seemed to be genuinely falling for her. He made grand declarations of love in the press, showered her with luxury homes and cars, and even replaced the cherry tree he'd planted for Emily with a garden full of red roses. In their most tender moments, he'd whisper against her ear, "Let's have a baby, Sophie. I hope they have your smile." Sophia's hand drifted absently to her stomach as she clutched the gift box a little tighter. Inside was a positive pregnancy test—meant to be Lucas's birthday surprise. But now, the timing of the gift felt all wrong. "You still think you're the Evans family princess, Emily? Lucas only has eyes for Sophia now. Why not be with me? A pretty thing like you deserves to be treated right," one of Lucas's friends, Ryan Shaw, sneered. He dragged Emily onto his lap, his hands already roaming over her. "Get your hands off me!" Emily cried, fighting against Ryan's grip as humiliation burned through her. Her resistance only fueled Ryan's excitement. In one swift motion, he shoved her down onto the couch, his powerful body trapping hers. Horrified that Ryan would assault Emily right in front of Lucas, Sophia jumped up to stop him, only to be shoved aside as Lucas already surged into action. As she stumbled, her hands instinctively reached for Lucas's arm, but he brutally shook her off. She hit the floor hard, a jolt of sharp pain shooting from her tailbone straight to her womb. Through the pain-induced haze, she saw Lucas grab Ryan by the collar, drag him off Emily, and pummel his face with brutal, unforgiving fists. "You've overstepped, Ryan. Emily is mine. Even if I discard her, she'll never be yours to touch," Lucas snapped. His words hung in the air, and the entire room fell silent as if frozen in time. Sophia stared at Lucas in disbelief, wondering where she stood in his life now that he had openly claimed Emily as his woman. All eyes in the room were drawn to the scene. Some watched with malicious delight, while others were simply captivated by the unfolding drama. Doubled over in pain, Sophia felt a warm wetness spreading beneath her. Her face paled as a cold dread gripped her heart. "Honey, my stomach hurts," she turned to Lucas instinctively. "Please, take me to the hospital." Without even glancing her way, Lucas removed his jacket and gently placed it around Emily's shoulders. Nestling into his embrace, Emily whispered, her voice trembling, "Lucas, I'm scared. Please take me away from here." "Don't worry," he murmured, holding her close. "I won't let anyone hurt you." Sweeping Emily into his arms, Lucas carried her out of the room, completely ignoring Sophia's pain-racked form shuddering on the floor. Perched comfortably on his shoulder, Emily gazed down at Sophia's crumpled form on the floor, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. The spectators murmured among themselves, still savoring the drama they'd just witnessed. "Emily's definitely the one for Lucas. He hasn't taken his eyes off her all night." "The way Lucas looks at her... I thought it was hatred, but it's clearly something else entirely." "Who could resist someone like her? I certainly wouldn't be able to stay angry." "Poor Sophia. She was just a side character in their love story." At the mention of Sophia's name, the crowd remembered her presence simultaneously, their attention shifting to where she sat. Sophia was in terrible pain and covered in a cold sweat until someone finally noticed her condition and quickly helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?" the guy asked. She gripped his arm tightly as the room spun around her. "Please take me to the hospital. My stomach hurts terribly," she pleaded. Then everything went dark as she fainted. Through the haze of semi-consciousness, distant screams about blood echoed in her ears. When Sophia regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital room. The sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the air as she lay alone in the quiet ward. A nurse tending to her bandages noticed her awakening. "You're awake," she said softly. Sophia's voice came out weak and fearful. "My baby... Is my baby alright?" "Your baby is fine," the nurse reassured her. "But you'll need to take special care. These first few months are particularly delicate in your condition." Relief washed over Sophia as grateful tears fell. "Thank you," she whispered, overwhelmed that her child was safe. Through the emotional turmoil, Sophia's first thought was to share the news with Lucas immediately. Wiping her tears, she reached for her phone and dialed his number. The phone rang several times before Lucas finally picked up. His voice was edged with impatience as he answered, "Not coming home tonight. Don't wait—" "Lucas, my hair's caught in this zipper," Emily's voice interrupted, floating through the line. "Could you give me a hand?" Sophia's knuckles went white around her phone. "Be right there," he said. The call ended before Sophia could form a response. Overnight, things between her and Lucas had reverted to how they were six months ago. Back then, he'd been all cold shoulders and sharp tones. Even in their most intimate moments, he treated her like just another need to be met. To him, she might as well have been a stranger—or worse, just a convenient body. So when he finally let his guard down, she'd been so grateful for the warmth that she fell harder than she ever meant to. She thought her years of longing had finally paid off. But reality slapped her senseless when Lucas chose Emily's safety over their own child's life. After being discharged from the hospital, Sophia caught a taxi home. Midway through the ride, her phone buzzed with a Twitter alert. It was a tweet from Emily: [You told me you'd hold my hand and never let go—not for the rest of our lives.] The attached photo showed Emily dressed like a princess, complete with a tiny crown, her hand locked tightly with a larger, elegant hand. Around the wrist was a bracelet made of prayer beads—the very one Sophia had prayed for in a church last year, when Lucas was burning up with fever. That day, he squeezed her hand and whispered a promise that he would never leave her side. Chapter 2 Ask Him For A Divorce The taxi stopped outside the Nightfall Estate, where Sophia paid the fare and got out of the vehicle. She was just heading inside when a truck carrying young cherry trees rumbled up the drive and stopped near the garden. Workers carefully unloaded the cherry trees and settled them into the prepared holes. Where a vibrant sea of red roses had bloomed just yesterday, now only upturned earth remained, with the plants piled carelessly to the side. A dull ache spread through Sophia's chest as she gazed at the rose petals strewn like crimson tears across the soil. The familiar purr of a luxury car engine approached from behind. Turning around, Sophia saw Lucas step out of the car. He stood tall and straight, radiating a natural air of calm elegance. "Honey..." Sophia began, but the words died on her lips as he leaned back into the car. With gentle care, he helped a woman step out—it was Emily, who looked radiant in an exquisite designer ensemble that made her complexion glow. Only when Emily was steady did Lucas's gaze finally meet Sophia's, those usually warm eyes now regarding her with detached indifference. "Did you need something?" he asked, his tone flat. The cold unfamiliarity in his look struck Sophia's heart like a physical blow. "Why are you tearing out the roses when they were growing so well?" she asked, desperate for his explanation. Those roses had been his special way of confessing his feelings to her. Lucas barely glanced at the destroyed garden. "Emily's not feeling well. She'll be staying with us for a bit." "What does that have to do with the roses?" she pressed. "She's allergic to the pollen," he said curtly, already turning to guide Emily inside. Sophia stood rooted to the spot, her heart breaking. Emily's delicate voice carried through the air. "Lucas, Sophia seems upset. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have complained about the roses." "She doesn't matter to me," Lucas reassured her. "But I worry she'll resent me. Really, I can manage with allergy medication," Emily offered, her voice dripping with false concern. "Medication always has side effects. Don't suggest things that worry me," he replied. Sophia stood motionless as she watched their figures grow smaller in the distance. A silent tear traced its way down her cheek while overwhelming sorrow washed over her. 'I don't matter to him... Yeah, right,' Sophia murmured with bitter irony, the truth of the words settling like a weight in her heart. He hadn't even asked about her absence last night, and now he had ordered her favorite roses to be torn out. The message was clear—she meant less to him than the slightest thought of Emily. For three years, she had devoted herself to him, offering unwavering love and comfort through difficult times. She had believed her constant warmth could thaw even the coldest heart, but Emily's reappearance had erased everything in an instant. She wondered what their intimacy these past six months had truly meant, and what role she had actually played in his life. A sudden twinge in her lower abdomen made her catch her breath. Pale and unsteady, she turned toward the villa. As Sophia stepped into the living room, she saw Emily nestled against Lucas on the sofa, watching with affectionate amusement as he peeled an orange for her. Lucas gently picked away every bit of white pith from the orange segments before arranging them on a plate for Emily. "For you," he said with a soft smile. "Enjoy, my little foodie." As Emily took the plate, she noticed Sophia entering the room. A triumphant smile graced her lips as she called out, "Sophia, would you like some? Lucas peeled these himself. Something you've never experienced, I'm sure." Sophia's gaze fell upon the perfectly prepared orange segments, and she felt a sudden sting behind her eyes. The painful truth was that in all their time together, Lucas had never once peeled an orange for her. She had always been the one serving him. The realization struck her with perfect clarity—Lucas knew well how to be thoughtful, but he simply reserved his kindness for Emily. Sophia felt her heart breaking into pieces as she finally understood how painful comparison could be. "She's perfectly capable of peeling her own fruit," Lucas said dismissively, barely glancing at Sophia. Then he noticed her pale complexion and added, "Are you alright? You look terribly pale." Sophia's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she debated telling Lucas her secret pregnancy. A fragile hope whispered within her—that this truth might finally soften his heart toward her. "I..." Her voice faltered, the words dying on her lips. "If you're ill, see a doctor. This pathetic act is getting tiresome," Lucas said, impatience flashing across his handsome features. He was annoyed by her wounded expression, which seemed to suggest she was the victim of some terrible injustice. Sophia swallowed her unspoken words, her gaze lingering on the man who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. "I'm fine," she murmured. "I'll just go to my room." As she turned toward the staircase, Lucas felt a surge of irritation. 'I must've been too lenient with her, and now she dared to show me attitude,' he thought, fuming. Sophia had only climbed a few steps when the housekeeper, Wendy, appeared descending the stairs with servants carrying boxes. The items looked familiar, but it was the sight of her stuffed doll in Wendy's arms that made Sophia realize everything they carried was hers. In a swift motion, she stepped forward and snatched the doll. Her voice turned icy as she asked, "Wendy, care to explain this?" "Mr. Westwood's orders," Wendy said quietly. "You're to move to the storage room downstairs." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, leaving her mind reeling. She turned to Lucas, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious." They'd already maintained separate bedrooms, but she never imagined that she'd be banished to a storage room instead of even being offered the guest suite after Emily's return. For a fleeting moment under her gaze, Lucas felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly hardened into resolve. "Emily needs the sunroom for her health," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your room gets the best light. It's better for her recovery." The absurdity of it all drew a bitter laugh from Sophia's lips. She thought his previous cruelty—shoving her while pregnant and replacing her roses with Emily's cherry trees—had been the worst it could get. But this new humiliation surpassed even that. All Lucas had done since Emily's return yesterday was talk about her. In just one day, she had turned Sophia's whole life upside down. Sophia expected to feel rage, but instead found only a hollow emptiness settling in her chest. 'Look at him, Sophia,' Sophia thought bitterly. 'This is the man you gave your heart and soul to. Was any of it worth it?' "If you're so worried about her comfort, why not just move her into your room? The master suite gets the best light anyway," Sophia shot back. Lucas responded sharply, "Sophia, you need to watch your tone." Emily's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I know you don't want me here, Sophia. I'll go. Please don't fight with Lucas over me." Sophia saw right through Emily's act. A humorless laugh escaped her as she spat, "You're not going anywhere. I am." Tightening her grip on the stuffed doll, she turned and headed for the door. "Don't you dare, Sophia." Lucas rose to his feet, his voice cutting through the room. "Walk out that door now, and don't expect to ever come back." Sophia's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "I'll make sure you receive the divorce papers," she said, her voice cold and steady. "See that you sign them." "You're asking me for a divorce?" Lucas's voice was low, thick with barely restrained fury. He added, his tone edged with contempt, "Have you forgotten who gave you this life, Sophia? The luxury, the status—all of it came from me. Without my name, you're just that wide-eyed girl fresh off that forgotten little town. You don't get to leave." Chapter 3 The Replaced Medical Result Sophia didn't need to look back to know the condescending smirk that was surely on Lucas's face. She knew he had always despised her. His proposal three years ago had been motivated only by a desire to fulfill the marriage agreement between their families and to exact revenge on Emily. She had been naive enough to believe his empty promises, offering him her genuine love when he saw her as nothing more than a pawn. To him, she would always be a leech, clinging to his wealth and name for survival. But now, she had reached her limit, and she no longer wanted him in her life. Sophia walked out without a backward glance. As she stepped through the gateway, the sound of shattering porcelain echoed behind her, but she no longer cared. Lucas stood amid the shattered remains, fingers pressed to his temples. His face was a mask of simmering anger. He dismissed the mention of divorce as just another one of her calculated moves, a transparent attempt to get his attention by pulling away. Emily watched him hesitantly. "Maybe I shouldn't be staying here, Lucas. Sophia seemed really upset." "It's nothing," Lucas replied evenly. Seeing how the mention of divorce had affected him, she suggested softly, "You could go after her. Women usually respond well to a little reassurance." "I don't have time for that," Lucas said, turning toward the staircase. With a business trip looming, his mind was elsewhere. 'Let her make a scene if she wants to,' he thought. 'She'll cool off and come crawling back. She always does.' ***** Sophia's home was a beautiful 3,200-square-foot apartment with an open-concept layout and sleek modern decor—all paid for with her own earnings. In her study, she printed the divorce papers and a letter resigning from her position. With a steady hand, she signed both, and then summoned a courier to deliver them directly to the Westwood Group. When she married Lucas three years ago, Sophia had joined his company, hoping to build a genuine connection with him. She started at the very bottom as an assistant and gradually earned her way up to department manager. She had wanted nothing more than to be close to him—in their home and at work. But in the end, her efforts were met with cold indifference. Gazing downward, Sophia softly cradled her stomach. "It's just us now, little one," she whispered. The courier arrived at Westwood headquarters while Lucas was away. His chief executive assistant, Kevin Chapman, received the delivery and signed. The moment Kevin saw the contents, he reached for the phone, dialing Lucas's number in haste. "Mr. Westwood, your wife has sent divorce documents." "Burn it all." On the other side of the ocean, Lucas loosened his tie as an unexpected wave of irritation came over him. "But Mrs. Westwood has even submitted her resignation letter..." Kevin replied, his tone hesitant. "She can't survive without this family." The blue flame from Lucas's lighter highlighted the grim set of his features. "Let her be. She'll come crawling back once reality sets in." Meanwhile, Sophia remained completely unaware of his words. Her morning had begun with a call from her mother-in-law, Helen Westwood. "Where are you? Return at once," Helen commanded in her typically imperious manner, leaving no room for discussion. Complying, Sophia drove back to the estate. No sooner had she stepped inside than a velvet box came hurling toward her head, which she narrowly avoided by stepping aside. Helen's shrill voice pierced the air. "How dare you avoid that? You've got some nerve." Sophia's gaze fell upon the velvet box at her feet, and suddenly, she understood why it seemed familiar. She remembered purchasing that exact box to store her pregnancy test results. On Lucas's birthday, she had intended to present it to him as a gift, but he had accidentally pushed her before she could give it to him, resulting in her hospitalization. Her heart leaped as she turned to face Helen's livid expression. 'Could she know about the pregnancy? But something about her reaction seems strange,' she wondered. For three years, Helen had made no secret of her disapproval of Sophia, someone raised in a small town. Yet every time Sophia visited the Westwood residence with Lucas, Helen would consistently nag Sophia about starting a family soon. If Helen knew Sophia was pregnant, she was supposed to be absolutely delighted instead of reacting like this. Helen clutched a medical report, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared down Sophia. "For three years, I've watched your marriage to Lucas, wondering why you never conceived. Now I understand—he married a barren woman. "If you hadn't left this at the hotel and Lucas's friend hadn't been kind enough to deliver it, I'd still be in the dark about your condition." Heart pounding with shock, Sophia ignored Helen's murderous gaze and snatched the document from her hand. The clinical report lay cold and pale in the morning light. There was her name, clearly printed, alongside the devastating diagnosis: "permanent infertility." 'Permanent infertility? But that's impossible. I'm pregnant. Someone must have switched my test results. But who would do such a thing?' Sophia wondered. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "This isn't my..." Emily, who had remained silent until now, suddenly interrupted, "Sophia, the Westwood lineage has been passed down through a single heir for ten generations. Are you trying to ensure Lucas dies without an heir? To extinguish the family line completely?" "How utterly heartless!" Helen exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Sophia as her anger reached its peak. "We've welcomed you with open arms since you married into this family. Yet you've been hiding this from us? To think you'd let our family line die out—it's truly despicable!" she added. Sophia didn't even attempt to explain herself. If they wanted to believe she was barren, so be it—it would only simplify the divorce proceedings. "I only received the results two days ago. I hadn't found the right moment to share the news," Sophia replied, her voice calm. "This wasn't about finding the right moment. You did this intentionally," Helen retorted, her face contorted with rage. "And you planned to give this to Lucas as a gift? What kind of twisted mind would conceive such a thing?" Sophia maintained her silence. Helen took a measured breath, forcing her anger down. "If you can't conceive naturally, I won't hold it against you. I've spoken with Emily, and she's agreed to donate her eggs so you and Lucas can pursue in vitro fertilization." Sophia stared in disbelief at the unexpected turn. "Could you repeat that?" She believed she had misheard because the suggestion was both preposterous and deeply offensive. "If you can't conceive, that's your problem. Emily is being extraordinarily generous by offering her eggs. The least you could do is show some appreciation instead of this ingratitude," Helen sneered. A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. "Perhaps you'd like to accept this generous offer yourself?" "How dare you speak to me like that!" Helen's eyes flashed with fury. "Sophia, you shouldn't speak to Mrs. Westwood that way. She was suggesting that for your sake," Emily said in a honeyed tone, reaching for the glass. As she moved, she made certain to display the prayer beads circling her delicate wrist. Sophia's breath caught—she would recognize the bracelet anywhere. That was the very ones she had sacrificed so much to obtain while praying for Lucas's recovery. It felt like a personal insult, seeing the bracelet that symbolized her love for Lucas now clasped around Emily's wrist. "For my sake?" Sophia repeated, the words tasting bitter as she caught the sly glint of satisfaction in Emily's eyes. It sent a sharp ache through her. She knew this game all too well. Emily had a gift for twisting people's vulnerabilities to her advantage, a lesson Sophia had learned the hard way three years ago. "I'm infertile. What possible use could I have for your eggs?" Sophia asked, her voice cold. "Do you really think I need a constant reminder of what I can't have?" Emily's smile vanished. For Helen's benefit, she bit her lip, her eyes instantly welling with feigned hurt. "Mrs. Westwood," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "I was only trying to help Sophia." Helen immediately comforted Emily by patting her hand. She then shot Sophia a disapproving look. "How can you be so selfish, Sophia? Are you really determined to let the Westwood family line die out?" Sophia gestured dismissively toward Emily. "Well, if she's so fertile, let her handle the baby-making." The thought of Emily getting to be a mother the easy way turned Sophia's stomach. Chapter 4 Take Back Her Things The color drained from both Helen's and Emily's faces. Helen stepped forward, jabbing a finger toward Sophia. "You think you're better than us? Then you give the Westwood family an heir. Don't blame anyone else for your own useless womb." Sophia bit back the sharp retort on her tongue. She was done with this family, done with Lucas. Arguing now would only prolong the inevitable. "Mrs. Westwood," she began, "I've decided—" Lucas's familiar, deep voice cut through the tension from the doorway. "Decided what?" Sophia turned to see Lucas standing there, his clothes rumpled from travel. His assistant, Kevin, hovered behind him with a suitcase in hand. The air in the room was thick with tension, so Kevin knew better than to stay. He simply left the suitcase by the door and made a quick exit. Loosening his tie, Lucas turned to Helen. "Mom, what brings you here?" "If I hadn't come, you'd have let our family name die out," Helen shot back. She then snatched the medical report from Sophia and flung it at Lucas's chest. "See for yourself," she said coldly, and with that, she swept out of the room. Lucas looked down at the document in his hands, and the words "permanent infertility" caused a faint twitch in his brow. His eyes, when they finally lifted to meet Sophia's, were devoid of warmth. "You'll go back to the hospital tomorrow for a full work-up. I will not have a wife who can't give me an heir." A hollow ache spread through Sophia's chest. Any foolish hope she'd been clinging to finally faded. Lucas had never defended her in three years of his mother's constant belittlement. And now, the ease with which he believed this lie revealed the chilling truth of his character. "I have the divorce papers right here," Sophia said, pulling the documents from her bag. She extended them toward him, her voice steady. "Just sign them, and you'll never have to see me again." Lucas didn't even look at the papers. In one swift motion, his hand closed around her throat, pulling her close. He leaned in until his face was mere inches from hers, and she could feel his warm breath and smell the familiar scent of his cologne. There was a time when this closeness would have made her heart flutter. Now, it only made her skin crawl. It was amazing how easy it was to walk away when all the love had drained away. "Sophia, have I been too soft with you?" Lucas's voice was thick with contempt. "Where exactly do you think you'll go without my protection?" She held his gaze without flinching. "That's really none of your concern anymore." "Still got that sharp tongue," he sneered. He released her with a dismissive shove, as if her defiance meant nothing. "Go make me dinner. I'm hungry." A wave of pain shot through Sophia's lower abdomen as she sank into the sofa, her skin turning clammy with an instant, cold sweat. Across the room, Emily slid her arm through Lucas's with practiced ease. "Don't let Sophia bother you," she murmured. "Her little scene was just a cry for your attention." Lucas pulled his tie free, his stern expression melting away as he focused on Emily. "How are you holding up?" he asked, his tone gentler. "I'm fine," she sighed, putting on a pitiful face. "It's just that the medicine is so awfully bitter." "It's bitter because it's strong. You need to keep taking it," he reminded her. "I picked up those candies you like. They're in my suitcase. Go get them yourself." "I know you always look out for me," Emily said, stretching up to press a light kiss to Lucas's cheek. "Consider that your reward." A look of quiet satisfaction crossed his features at the gesture. "I'm going up to shower," he said. "Go ahead," Emily said sweetly, fluttering a wave at him. She waited until Lucas's footsteps faded up the staircase before turning to the suitcase. They carried on as if Sophia weren't standing right there in the same room. Humming cheerfully, Emily unzipped the luggage. Alongside Lucas's neatly folded clothes sat a jar of shimmering candies and an elegant red velvet box that clearly held something valuable. Her eyes skipped over the candy, going straight to the velvet box. When she lifted the lid, a pink diamond necklace lay gleaming, its facets scattering rainbows in the light. "Oh, it's exquisite. I love it," she whispered, her eyes widening. "So the candy was just a decoy. This necklace is what he really wanted me to find." Draping the necklace against her collarbone, Emily turned to face Sophia, who had risen from the sofa. "Well, Sophia? Don't you think it suits me perfectly?" The pink diamond necklace around Emily's neck struck Sophia as oddly familiar. It came to her a moment later—she had coveted it last month while flipping through a magazine. Lucas had seen her fascination and promised to get it for her. The catch was its exclusivity—a single piece, sourced from Melaria, the country where Lucas had been attending to business. "That was for me," Sophia said, her voice calm. The man was disposable, but her possessions were not. She would reclaim what was rightfully hers. With a swift motion, Emily clasped the necklace. "Finders keepers," she said with a mocking grin. Sophia approached for a closer look. Though the necklace was more exquisite than its photograph, any desire for it had vanished. A wary look crossed Emily's face. "What is this about?" "To take what belongs to me, of course," Sophia said, stepping close and extending her hand. "It's time you returned it." Emily's hands instinctively flew to the diamond necklace at her throat. "Lucas will never stand for this, Sophia. You know what I mean to him." Sophia almost laughed. She knew well that Emily held a special place in Lucas's heart. But that was irrelevant. She was only claiming what was hers. "Give the bracelet back to me," Sophia said coldly. It was a token earned through true devotion, and she wouldn't let its significance be tarnished. Realizing Sophia only wanted the simple bracelet, Emily smiled condescendingly. 'Some shortsighted people have no taste,' she thought. Emily twisted the bracelet around her wrist. "I heard you went to Grace Abbey to beg for this good-luck charm," she said. "You are so hung up on him, aren't you?" The hypocrisy of her words was almost laughable. "Give it back," Sophia said, her voice like ice. Emily's eyes flickered to a point behind Sophia, and a sly smile touched her lips. She lowered her voice. "If you want it so badly, why don't you come and take it?" Sophia didn't stop to think. She grabbed Emily's wrist and tugged the bracelet free. The moment it was off, Emily's demeanor shifted completely. "Sophia, what are you doing?" she cried out, her voice suddenly loud and panicked. "Lucas gave this to me." Before Sophia could even turn around, a powerful hand seized her by the collar and hauled her backwards. The fabric dug sharply into her throat, stealing her breath. Stumbling to regain her footing, Sophia looked up to see Lucas. He was already cradling Emily. "Emily, are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern. Emily buried her face in his chest. "I'm fine," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Please, don't be angry with Sophia. She didn't mean it." Lucas's jaw tightened, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. He took a deep breath and fixed Sophia with an icy stare. "Apologize to Emily." Chapter 5 She Wants A Clean Break A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. She had fooled herself into thinking she was numb to Lucas's coldness. But his command still sent a fresh, sharp pain through her chest. She knew there was no point arguing with a man who had already chosen the other woman's side. "I won't apologize," Sophia said, her fist closing tightly around the bracelet. "What for?" Emily looked up at Lucas with well-practiced vulnerability. "I'm causing trouble here, Lucas. I should go." Lucas caught her wrist before she could take a second step. "You're staying right here." His attention snapped back to Sophia, his expression darkening. "Now, Sophia, apologize to Emily." The room blurred as tears filled Sophia's eyes, twisting his familiar face into a stranger's. She lifted the simple bracelet between them. "This is my stuff in the first place. Since when is taking back what was stolen a crime?" "Your stuff? Since when do you have anything of your own?" Lucas's lips curled in a sneer. "I've paid for every stitch of clothing on your back." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, forcing a bitter laugh from her lips. He knew perfectly well she earned her own living, yet he took every opportunity to demean her. "This bracelet came from Grace Abbey," she countered, her voice trembling. "You didn't pay a cent for it." Lucas's eyes dropped to the simple beads in her palm. "You think I care about some cheap bracelet?" he scoffed. Hot tears streamed down Sophia's face without warning. Wiping them away, Sophia made a silent vow—this would be the last time he reduced her to this. "Fine!" With one sharp motion, she snapped the bracelet's cord, sending beads skittering across the floor. Lucas watched the scattered beads come to rest, his hand curling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. He knew how much that bracelet meant to her, but the moment Emily wanted it, he didn't hesitate to take it off and hand it over. Lucas's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "Sophia!" "I want a divorce," Sophia said, her voice eerily calm. As she opened her hand, the last bead from the bracelet clattered onto the floor between them. "Let's just end this." The sound was small, but in the tense silence, it was deafening, echoing in Lucas's mind. He let out a short laugh, his gaze locked on her. "You think a threat will work? You should know better than that by now." 'This has to be a ploy,' he thought to himself. 'She loves me too much to go through with it. She has accepted her role as Emily's replacement from the beginning and has never once tried to leave. 'She would never have the strength to walk away from me.' "Go make us something to eat, and we can forget this ever happened." Lucas was certain he had thrown Sophia a lifeline. He waited, fully expecting her to be overcome with relief and scurry off to the kitchen. He'd been away on business, and days of unfamiliar rich food had left his stomach unsettled. What he craved was Sophia's cooking—simple, hearty food that tasted like home. It was a flavor he couldn't find anywhere else. "You can go eat your ass," Sophia shot back. She picked up her bag, her lips twisting into a scornful smile, and walked out without a backward glance. That smile grated on Lucas's nerves more than the insult itself. In his frustration, his eyes fell on the string of prayer beads lying scattered on the floor, and he gave them an impatient kick. 'So that's her game. She wants to challenge me? I'd like to see just how long her resolve will hold,' he thought, fuming. ***** Sophia sped away from Nightfall Estate, her phone buzzing relentlessly on the passenger seat. Lucas's name flashed across the screen again and again until she finally grabbed it and blocked his number for good. When she looked up at the road, she blinked, her vision blurring for a moment. She braced for the familiar sting of tears, but when her fingers touched her skin, it was dry. It was only then that she noticed the soft patter against the windshield. A fine drizzle had begun to fall, and a quiet melancholy settled over her, as gray as the sky. Up ahead, the flickering hazard lights of a sleek black car broke the rhythm of the rain. A man in a soaked suit, looking to be in his forties, stood beside it, waving frantically at passing traffic. Almost without conscious thought, Sophia found herself flipping on her turn signal and pulling over. She rolled down her window as the man rushed over. "Everything okay?" she asked. "It's my boss," the man said, his voice tight with panic. "He's having a heart attack. The ambulance is stuck in a multi-car accident. Please, can you take us to the hospital?" Sophia hesitated. Letting two strange men into her car, especially in this weather, felt dangerous. Every cautionary tale she'd ever heard flashed through her mind. Seeing her hesitation, the man added urgently, "I promise we're not dangerous. My boss is—" But Sophia was already moving, cutting the engine and stepping out into the downpour. "Just get him to my car, now," she called out as she rushed toward their vehicle. As she got closer, she recognized the distinctive emblem of the black Maybach. Working together, they carefully transferred the elderly man from the luxury sedan into Sophia's more modest car. The old man's lips were tinged with blue, and each ragged breath seemed like a struggle, clear signs of his critical condition. Sliding behind the wheel, Sophia started the car and pulled back onto the road, pushing through the veils of rain. In the backseat, the middle-aged man was a whirlwind of activity on his phone, coordinating with a hospital and alerting the family. Beyond the windows, the storm seemed to intensify, as if trying to match the urgency inside the car. After ensuring everything was in place, the man turned to Sophia with heartfelt appreciation. "You're the only one who stopped in this downpour. We can't thank you enough." A warm smile touched Sophia's lips. "Some things are just meant to be." ***** Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital entrance where medical staff stood ready. The team swiftly transferred the elderly man to a stretcher and hurried him inside for emergency care. Just as Sophia was about to drive away, she spotted a lone leather shoe in the backseat—the one the elderly man had been wearing. After a moment's hesitation, she parked properly and carried the shoe to the reception desk, logging it as a lost item. Sophia was just turning to leave when a group emerged from the hospital's main entrance. At the front of the group was a man whose height and posture commanded attention. He turned his sharp gaze on her, and the intensity in his eyes was so commanding that it felt like a physical pressure. 'That frown means trouble,' Sophia thought. She averted her gaze and continued walking, brushing past the group without a second look. It wasn't until she was back in the driver's seat that she felt the chill of her wet clothes clinging to her skin. As she dried her hair with a towel from the backseat, a notification popped up on her phone while she was opening the navigation app. It was a post from Emily: [Nothing says 'forever' like a soft-boiled egg made with love! My ultimate comfort food.] The post featured two photos—one showed a soft-boiled egg with a ketchup heart, and the other captured a tall man's back as he stood at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Sophia couldn't help but compare. When she was with Lucas, he had acted like even pouring her a glass of water was a significant concession. Cooking a meal was utterly out of the question. The fact that he was now cooking for Emily spoke volumes about where his true affections lay. She closed the page and entered her apartment address into the navigation system before driving out of the parking lot. As she watched the heavy rain outside, a single decisive thought crystallized in her mind—this marriage was over. Chapter 6 Return The Trash To The Dumpster That evening, a text came through from Annabelle Quinn, Sophia's best friend since college, insisting they go out to a lounge. The old Sophia would have declined immediately, conditioned to obey Lucas's rule about her not going out. But now that Sophia was divorcing him, his opinions held no weight. ***** The moment Sophia stepped out of the car, she saw Annabelle waiting by the entrance. "Hope you haven't been waiting long," she said as she approached. "Just got here," Annabelle grinned, looping her arm through Sophia's. "So, what's the special occasion? Did you finally get a night off from your sweetheart?" Sophia struggled to find the words, but she couldn't keep it from her best friend. "I'm getting a divorce," she finally said. "Let me guess," Annabelle said, not one to mince words in front of her best friend. "This is about Emily being back, isn't it?" "It's not just that," Sophia admitted, her voice quiet. It just took seeing the difference for herself to truly see how little her three years of effort had meant. Annabelle threw a supportive arm around Sophia's shoulders. "You should have woken up to this a long time ago." For three years, she had watched Sophia lose herself in a hollow relationship, and it killed Annabelle to see her friend throw everything away for a man who never appreciated her. "Better late than never," Sophia offered with a weak smile. "Damn right it is," Annabelle declared. "Tonight, I'm getting us the best male models in town. You deserve some real attention." They ascended into the pulsating heart of the club, pushing through the glittering crowd toward the exclusive booth Annabelle had booked. As they moved past the entrance to a private booth, a burst of laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway. Amid the noise, Sophia's own name caught her sharp ear. "Got to hand it to Lucas. The minute Emily was back, he moved her right in. Word is, he showed Sophia the door." "Well, she had it coming. Play the simp, and you lose it all. Seriously though, that night in the booth with all the blood? I truly thought a tragedy had occurred, but it was probably just her period." "You're thinking about that? Man, have you had a thing for Sophia all along?" "Who'd pine after some nobody from a backwater? Only Lucas, with his unique preferences, would stick around for three years." "Guess the novelty wore off. Time for a change." Standing in the hallway, Sophia felt a cold stillness settle behind her eyes. The voices clicked into place—Lucas's oldest friends. They had been there that night, spectators to her most shameful moment. Annabelle's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind." But as she moved toward the door, Sophia stopped her with a gentle hand. "This is my battle to fight," Sophia said firmly. With that, Sophia pushed the door open and swept into the room. She settled gracefully onto the sofa, joining their conversation with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you're talking about unique preferences, I top him," she began, her voice deceptively light, "I recycled what Emily threw away. But it looks like I did everyone a favor by returning the trash to the dumpster where it belongs." A stunned silence fell over the room. Every face on the circular sofa stared at her in horrified fascination. Unbeknownst to Sophia, two figures had entered the room behind her during her speech. The guests' eyes darted nervously between Sophia and the newcomers, the air thickening with tension. There stood Lucas and Emily, their expressions dark as storm clouds. Their presence made Sophia turn. Her eyes instantly met the cold, dark stare of Lucas. But she didn't back down. A defiant shrug lifted her shoulders. "Look what the cat dragged in. My trash husband." Emily's eyes instantly glistened with tears. "Sophia, ignore them," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "It's all lies. Lucas and I are just friends." As if to prove her point, she clutched Lucas's arm. "Tell her, Lucas. Make her understand there's nothing going on between us." Sophia's gaze dropped to the hand clinging to Lucas's arm, and a faint, derisive smile touched her mouth. 'Just friends? Did she really expect anyone to believe that?' she thought bitterly. Lucas detached himself from Emily's grip and closed the distance between him and Sophia. The motion broke the tension, stirring his friends into action. "Hey, Lucas, take it easy," one of them said, stepping forward. "She's just reacting to our stupid jokes." "Come on, Sophia, just say you're sorry to Lucas," another one urged. "You know he'll forgive you." The suggestion made Sophia want to laugh bitterly. 'Is this really how they see me? As some lovesick fool who'd come crawling back at the first sign of forgiveness?' she thought. It explained everything—why, for three years, they had shown her phony respect as Lucas's wife while mocking her devotion in private. She had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn't met Lucas seven years ago, if that fateful incident hadn't tied her to him, she would have moved on with her life long ago. "Are you quite done?" Lucas's voice cut through her thoughts as he reached for her arm. She shifted her weight gracefully, letting his hand close on empty air. The rejected gesture hung between them for a beat too long before he withdrew, his features tightening with displeasure. Turning to Emily, who was now dabbing at her eyes, Sophia arched a brow. "There's no need for the waterworks. You're making it look like I'm the one being cruel here." "Sophia, I've treated you like my elder sister. I—" Emily began, trying to defend herself. "Don't," Sophia interrupted, her voice cool. "We arrived minutes apart, and you were first. Let's skip the emotional act." Emily's face turned from pale to deep red as she clenched her jaw in fury. 'Since when has Sophia found this kind of nerve? She used to shrink into silence whenever Lucas was near,' she thought. Despite her three-year absence from the city, Emily had ensured she received every scrap of information about Sophia's life. She knew all about Sophia's pathetic attempts to please Lucas, and she knew exactly how little he cared for his wife. She even knew they kept separate bedrooms, and that on the occasional night Lucas spent with Sophia, he always sent her back to her own room afterward. She knew that to Lucas, Sophia was just a body—convenient, disposable, and utterly unimportant. With a dark expression, Lucas grabbed Sophia's wrist and began pulling her toward the exit. Sophia's answer was a sharp, stinging slap across his cheek. The sound cracked through the air, and a dead silence fell over the room. All eyes were fixed on Sophia in pure shock. Everyone was wondering if she had lost her mind to dare something like that. Lucas slowly worked his jaw, the look in his eyes so dark that it promised retribution. When Sophia resisted, Lucas didn't hesitate. He swept her up onto his shoulder and carried her out of the room. The sight made Emily's heart clench. She'd never seen Lucas be so patient with anyone. Before she knew it, her hand was on his arm. "Lucas..." He didn't turn his head, but some of the tension left his expression. "I'm taking her home," he said firmly. "The driver will return for you when you're ready." Emily could only watch as Lucas walked away with Sophia. She had no right to stop him, but it stung—this was the first time he'd ever left her for another woman, especially one who meant nothing. Her hands tightened at her sides. 'I gave you a chance to walk away quietly, Sophia. You brought this on yourself,' she thought. Sophia's protests echoed down the hallway as she struggled against Lucas's hold. Unsure what was happening between the couple, Annabelle turned away, pretending she hadn't noticed them. Lucas carried Sophia into the elevator and stepped out briskly when it reached the basement level. As the car door opened, Lucas tossed Sophia into the back seat. Struggling upright, she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea from the prolonged time she'd spent upside down. She opened her mouth to curse, but the words died on her lips as the tinted window of a nearby Maybach began to descend. In the shadowy interior, the man's profile was sharp and forbidding. His lips were set in a firm line, and he sat with the imposing stillness of an iceberg, his presence pushing others away. Sensing her gaze, he glanced over, and their eyes locked. Without a word, Sophia averted her gaze and hid her face behind a veil of tangled hair. Chapter 7 Not Her Home Anymore Lucas's black Bentley pulled out of the underground parking garage, but Sophia was still lost in thought about those intense eyes. There was something familiar about them, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen them before. Lucas's voice broke the silence. "Did you follow me here? What are you so concerned about?" "What?" Sophia asked, snapping back to reality. Keeping his eyes on the road, Lucas tried to explain. "You know how my friends are—they never think before they speak. Don't take their words seriously. There's nothing going on between Emily and me." 'If there's really nothing between them, why was he being so protective? He only rushed me out because he was worried I might cause a scene and embarrass Emily,' Sophia thought. "Sure," Sophia said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You and Emily are completely innocent." "I'm trying to explain myself here," Lucas said, his patience wearing thin. "Do you have to be so sarcastic?" Her ungrateful attitude was beginning to irritate him. He remembered how she used to soften at the slightest reassurance. Now, it seemed her patience had worn thin. "Understood," Sophia said, her tone flat. "Is that all?" "I've been clear from the beginning—you are my wife, and that won't change. But if you want this marriage to work, you need to drop your little tricks. I won't play these games." Sophia stayed quiet, struck by his assumption that her mention of divorce was merely a plea for attention. Her silence tightened the air between them. "Don't become someone I resent, Sophia," he said with a frown, his voice low. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips as she turned toward the window, shutting him out completely. Sensing he had pushed too far, Lucas eased his tone. "I had your things moved back to our room. If you want to stay with me, just say so. There's no need for all this." Sophia was left speechless. ***** As the car came to a stop in the courtyard of Nightfall Estate, Sophia stepped out. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the cherry blossom grove in the garden. The sight sent a sharp pang through her chest. She forced her gaze away and continued into the villa. Inside, the decor had been completely redone. The new style, with its unmistakable resemblance to the Evans residence, clearly revealed who had overseen the renovations. She moved through rooms that felt entirely alien to her now, but she kept her thoughts to herself since this was no longer her home. Wendy looked surprised when she saw Sophia. "Mrs. Westwood, you've returned. Have you had your supper?" Sinking into the plush pink sofa, Sophia answered quietly, "Yes, thank you." Wendy offered a tight smile before retreating to her quarters to make a hurried phone call to Helen, reporting the unexpected arrival. Helen had never approved of Sophia, whom she saw as a plain nobody not good enough for her son. The infertility diagnosis hardened Helen's resolve to rush the divorce so Lucas could marry someone worthy of giving her grandchildren. The news of Sophia's sudden return after her dramatic departure kept Helen tossing and turning all night. Lucas had been certain Sophia would confront him about the complete makeover of their home. He stood ready to smooth things over, but she walked through the rooms without comment, her silence leaving him more unsettled than any argument would have. "If the decor isn't to your taste..." Lucas moved to sit beside her, his arms beginning to encircle her. Sophia reached for a throw pillow, tucking it between them as she shifted away from his embrace. The gentle rejection stung, though Lucas reassured himself that this was the same woman who had always adored him. "It's true. I prefer my original choices," she said calmly. "Can you have everything returned to how it was?" The warm, elegant furnishings had vanished, replaced by the overwhelming pinks that Emily favored—a transformation that had turned their home into something resembling a kitschy boutique hotel. Lucas shifted uncomfortably. "Let's not make a big deal out of it. You'll get used to the way things are around here." A faint, knowing smile curved on Sophia's lips as she met his gaze. That smile never failed to get under his skin. "Try to see it from her perspective, Sophia," he said, his voice tightening. "After everything she's been through these past three years, all Emily wants is to feel like she belongs." A wave of exhaustion washed over her. It was like talking to a brick wall. "I know," she said flatly. "You have your entire family backing you up," Lucas shot back, his patience clearly wearing thin. "But Emily? She has nobody else. Is it really so hard for you to be a little more compassionate?" "Funny," Sophia replied, her tone icy. "I was under the impression my adoptive parents were still very much alive." Besides, the Evans family had never once ceased to think about Emily throughout those three years. They made trip after trip to Felarica to celebrate Emily's birthdays and attend her parties. They even missed Sophia's wedding to Lucas because of her. A single social media post from Emily, complaining of her loneliness in Felarica, was all it took for them to drop everything and fly to her side. "Now that you've made it out of that dead-end town, you should be the last person to let Emily sink into it," he shot back. As Sophia looked at him, the last glimmer of hope in her eyes vanished. She knew well enough to stop mentioning divorce. To Lucas, it was just another act—proof that she was the same desperate woman the world thought her to be. If she couldn't get through to Lucas, she was going to find another path. Now, with her infertility diagnosis, she knew Helen would be far more impatient to act on this news. Sophia retreated to the master bedroom. Her possessions had claimed their space, with her clothes occupying half of the vast closet. A sense of normalcy had finally settled between her and Lucas, the kind that belongs to a husband and wife. But it was a fragile peace, already beginning to fray. Lucas was still in the living room when Emily returned. The air around her carried the sharp tang of liquor. Her face was deeply flushed, and she swayed slightly as she walked. He was at her side in an instant, his hand gently steadying her. "You've had far too much to drink," he murmured, his brow furrowed with worry. "This isn't good for you. I don't want to see you like this again." Emily turned into him, her arms finding their way around his neck. "I couldn't help it," she whispered, her voice thick with drink and emotion. "It's the only thing that dulls the ache." Sensing her legs might give way, he simply gathered her into his arms. "Wendy," he said to the housekeeper who had appeared, heading for the stairs. "Would you bring up some electrolyte water for Emily?" "Understood," Wendy replied. Playing the part of the drunken mess, Emily clung to Lucas and sobbed into his chest. "I've always regretted it," she cried. "Letting my pride push you away was the biggest mistake of my life." A long-buried tenderness tugged at Lucas's heart. "Let's try again, Lucas. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice," she whispered, tilting her face up to his. Just as their lips were about to meet, the master bedroom door swung open, and the sudden movement startled the couple in the hallway. Sophia stood in the doorway in her pajamas, watching them with a completely expressionless face. Lucas instantly snapped back to reality, and a rare look of panic flashed across his handsome face. "Sophie, Emily is drunk," he said quickly. "I'm just taking her back to her room." Still draped around him, Emily met Sophia's eyes over Lucas's shoulder. The tears were gone, replaced by a cool, triumphant smirk that held no trace of intoxication. Sophia's mouth curved into a humorless smile as she replied, "Yes, and you're drunk too." Without another word, she stepped back and slammed the door, the turn of the lock echoing decisively behind her. The idea of sleeping next to Lucas made her blood boil. She honestly didn't trust herself to lie beside him all night without her rage getting the better of her. Chapter 8 Divorce Settlement The next morning, as Sophia left her room, the guest room door across the hall opened at the exact same time. Lucas was stepping out, finishing with his tie. He glanced up and went completely still, finding Sophia already watching him from their bedroom doorway. Surprise flashed across his face, and he started with an explanation. "She was a mess last night," he said, his voice low. "I couldn't just leave her." Sophia's eyes dropped to the bright red smudge on his collar. Her eyes were filled with silent scorn as she thought about how filthy it was. She said with icy calm, "Relax, I know perfectly well that nothing would ever happen between you two, even when you don't have a stitch of clothing on." Her words cut off whatever excuse Lucas was about to offer. Anger darkened his features. "Think what you want," he snapped. "My feelings for her are purely brotherly." Sophia's eyes fell to the lipstick stain on his collar again. "So, how does it feel to be so close to your 'sister'?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Following her line of sight, Lucas saw the evidence, and a shadow of guilt crossed his face. "It was an accident," he insisted, his voice tight. "Don't make it sound so sordid." "So filthy," she murmured, shaking her head. As he drew a sharp breath to retaliate, she added with a cold smile, "I mean your shirt." He stared at her, his expression turning to stone. She merely offered a careless shrug and walked away, leaving him fuming in the hallway. Downstairs, Sophia was halfway through her breakfast when her phone vibrated on the table. A quick glance at the screen confirmed it was Helen calling. Just then, Wendy appeared with two additional breakfast plates. Sophia swiped to answer the call, a deliberate smile directed at Wendy. "You're calling so early, Mrs. Westwood." The pointed smile made Wendy's blood run cold, and at the mention of Mrs. Westwood, she was reminded of betraying Sophia by reporting to Helen last night. Stricken with guilt, she almost fumbled the tray. She dropped the plates onto the table and hastily retreated to the safety of the kitchen. A faint, cold smile touched Sophia's lips as Helen's venomous voice filled her ear. "Utterly devoid of manners," Helen sneered. "What else can you expect from someone with such a common background?" Sophia's eyes turned to ice. "Trace any lineage back three generations, Mrs. Westwood, and you'll find humble roots. It's distasteful to scorn your own origins." Helen found herself at a loss for words. Though Lucas's parents both had city roots, his grandparents' generation had all struggled in a backwater. Helen's parents had even lived in a cowshed. So in that regard, Helen was no better than Sophia. "That sharp tongue of yours is exactly why people can't stand you," Helen shot back. Sophia rolled her eyes in contempt. Biting back her anger, Helen forced a calmer tone. "We need to meet. There's a document for you to sign." "What kind of document?" "It'll be clear when you get here." Letting the matter drop, Sophia hung up. As she did, she saw Lucas descending the staircase. He had showered and changed, his hair perfectly styled like a model from the pages of a magazine. She had to admit, he was pleasing to look at. 'With those looks, he certainly has the assets for a career as a gigolo,' Sophia thought wryly. A smug feeling warmed Lucas as her eyes stayed on him. He drew out the chair next to hers and sat down. "Paliston Fashion Week is just around the corner," he offered. "It'll be a good chance for us to get away." In three years of marriage, it was the first time he had ever proposed such a thing. Sophia acknowledged him with a quiet hum, but she felt no spark of happiness or expectation. She saw the offer for what it was—a peace offering, born of the guilt he carried after his betrayal. Her ride showed up shortly after breakfast. Picking up her bag, Sophia walked out the door.
Chapter 1 His First Love Returned Sophia Evans could feel her world beginning to crack the moment she heard the news—the woman her husband, Lucas Westwood, had never gotten over was back. When Sophia arrived at the hotel's VIP suite with a gift, she found Lucas's first love—Emily Evans—being humiliated by his childhood friends. "Lick the wine off my shoe, Emily. I'll give you thirty thousand dollars," one of them said. Emily was forced to kneel on the floor, tears in her defiant eyes as she stared shamefully at Lucas. Lucas watched with a dark expression, saying nothing as he held his temper in check. Sophia halted mid-step, struck by the painful familiarity of the scene. Three years ago, when she had first been welcomed into the Evans family, these same privileged young men had tormented her in exactly the same way to gain Emily's favor. But back then, Lucas hadn't worn this expression of utter heartbreak. "There you are," Lucas said as soon as he spotted Sophia, his arm sliding around her waist in a show of intimacy. Only Sophia could feel the desperate pressure of his grip—a silent testament to the pain he was trying to conceal. Lucas's childhood friends had reserved the entire venue for his birthday celebration. But Sophia had never expected Emily to show up here. Everyone knew Lucas had married Sophia just to spite Emily. Three years ago, Emily's identity as a fake heiress was exposed. She broke up with Lucas then and there and left the Evans family behind. Lucas pursued her to the airport, boarded her departing flight, and forced the plane that had already taken off to turn back. Right there on that plane, he proposed to Emily. To his complete surprise, Emily refused without hesitation, declaring that the arranged marriage should be honored by the Evans family's true heiress. Humiliated and acting out of spite, Lucas married Sophia instead. For three years, Sophia had lived as Emily's stand-in. Everyone whispered that if Emily ever returned, Lucas would discard Sophia without a second thought. Sophia had once believed that too, but something had shifted in these past six months—Lucas seemed to be genuinely falling for her. He made grand declarations of love in the press, showered her with luxury homes and cars, and even replaced the cherry tree he'd planted for Emily with a garden full of red roses. In their most tender moments, he'd whisper against her ear, "Let's have a baby, Sophie. I hope they have your smile." Sophia's hand drifted absently to her stomach as she clutched the gift box a little tighter. Inside was a positive pregnancy test—meant to be Lucas's birthday surprise. But now, the timing of the gift felt all wrong. "You still think you're the Evans family princess, Emily? Lucas only has eyes for Sophia now. Why not be with me? A pretty thing like you deserves to be treated right," one of Lucas's friends, Ryan Shaw, sneered. He dragged Emily onto his lap, his hands already roaming over her. "Get your hands off me!" Emily cried, fighting against Ryan's grip as humiliation burned through her. Her resistance only fueled Ryan's excitement. In one swift motion, he shoved her down onto the couch, his powerful body trapping hers. Horrified that Ryan would assault Emily right in front of Lucas, Sophia jumped up to stop him, only to be shoved aside as Lucas already surged into action. As she stumbled, her hands instinctively reached for Lucas's arm, but he brutally shook her off. She hit the floor hard, a jolt of sharp pain shooting from her tailbone straight to her womb. Through the pain-induced haze, she saw Lucas grab Ryan by the collar, drag him off Emily, and pummel his face with brutal, unforgiving fists. "You've overstepped, Ryan. Emily is mine. Even if I discard her, she'll never be yours to touch," Lucas snapped. His words hung in the air, and the entire room fell silent as if frozen in time. Sophia stared at Lucas in disbelief, wondering where she stood in his life now that he had openly claimed Emily as his woman. All eyes in the room were drawn to the scene. Some watched with malicious delight, while others were simply captivated by the unfolding drama. Doubled over in pain, Sophia felt a warm wetness spreading beneath her. Her face paled as a cold dread gripped her heart. "Honey, my stomach hurts," she turned to Lucas instinctively. "Please, take me to the hospital." Without even glancing her way, Lucas removed his jacket and gently placed it around Emily's shoulders. Nestling into his embrace, Emily whispered, her voice trembling, "Lucas, I'm scared. Please take me away from here." "Don't worry," he murmured, holding her close. "I won't let anyone hurt you." Sweeping Emily into his arms, Lucas carried her out of the room, completely ignoring Sophia's pain-racked form shuddering on the floor. Perched comfortably on his shoulder, Emily gazed down at Sophia's crumpled form on the floor, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. The spectators murmured among themselves, still savoring the drama they'd just witnessed. "Emily's definitely the one for Lucas. He hasn't taken his eyes off her all night." "The way Lucas looks at her... I thought it was hatred, but it's clearly something else entirely." "Who could resist someone like her? I certainly wouldn't be able to stay angry." "Poor Sophia. She was just a side character in their love story." At the mention of Sophia's name, the crowd remembered her presence simultaneously, their attention shifting to where she sat. Sophia was in terrible pain and covered in a cold sweat until someone finally noticed her condition and quickly helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?" the guy asked. She gripped his arm tightly as the room spun around her. "Please take me to the hospital. My stomach hurts terribly," she pleaded. Then everything went dark as she fainted. Through the haze of semi-consciousness, distant screams about blood echoed in her ears. When Sophia regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital room. The sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the air as she lay alone in the quiet ward. A nurse tending to her bandages noticed her awakening. "You're awake," she said softly. Sophia's voice came out weak and fearful. "My baby... Is my baby alright?" "Your baby is fine," the nurse reassured her. "But you'll need to take special care. These first few months are particularly delicate in your condition." Relief washed over Sophia as grateful tears fell. "Thank you," she whispered, overwhelmed that her child was safe. Through the emotional turmoil, Sophia's first thought was to share the news with Lucas immediately. Wiping her tears, she reached for her phone and dialed his number. The phone rang several times before Lucas finally picked up. His voice was edged with impatience as he answered, "Not coming home tonight. Don't wait—" "Lucas, my hair's caught in this zipper," Emily's voice interrupted, floating through the line. "Could you give me a hand?" Sophia's knuckles went white around her phone. "Be right there," he said. The call ended before Sophia could form a response. Overnight, things between her and Lucas had reverted to how they were six months ago. Back then, he'd been all cold shoulders and sharp tones. Even in their most intimate moments, he treated her like just another need to be met. To him, she might as well have been a stranger—or worse, just a convenient body. So when he finally let his guard down, she'd been so grateful for the warmth that she fell harder than she ever meant to. She thought her years of longing had finally paid off. But reality slapped her senseless when Lucas chose Emily's safety over their own child's life. After being discharged from the hospital, Sophia caught a taxi home. Midway through the ride, her phone buzzed with a Twitter alert. It was a tweet from Emily: [You told me you'd hold my hand and never let go—not for the rest of our lives.] The attached photo showed Emily dressed like a princess, complete with a tiny crown, her hand locked tightly with a larger, elegant hand. Around the wrist was a bracelet made of prayer beads—the very one Sophia had prayed for in a church last year, when Lucas was burning up with fever. That day, he squeezed her hand and whispered a promise that he would never leave her side. Chapter 2 Ask Him For A Divorce The taxi stopped outside the Nightfall Estate, where Sophia paid the fare and got out of the vehicle. She was just heading inside when a truck carrying young cherry trees rumbled up the drive and stopped near the garden. Workers carefully unloaded the cherry trees and settled them into the prepared holes. Where a vibrant sea of red roses had bloomed just yesterday, now only upturned earth remained, with the plants piled carelessly to the side. A dull ache spread through Sophia's chest as she gazed at the rose petals strewn like crimson tears across the soil. The familiar purr of a luxury car engine approached from behind. Turning around, Sophia saw Lucas step out of the car. He stood tall and straight, radiating a natural air of calm elegance. "Honey..." Sophia began, but the words died on her lips as he leaned back into the car. With gentle care, he helped a woman step out—it was Emily, who looked radiant in an exquisite designer ensemble that made her complexion glow. Only when Emily was steady did Lucas's gaze finally meet Sophia's, those usually warm eyes now regarding her with detached indifference. "Did you need something?" he asked, his tone flat. The cold unfamiliarity in his look struck Sophia's heart like a physical blow. "Why are you tearing out the roses when they were growing so well?" she asked, desperate for his explanation. Those roses had been his special way of confessing his feelings to her. Lucas barely glanced at the destroyed garden. "Emily's not feeling well. She'll be staying with us for a bit." "What does that have to do with the roses?" she pressed. "She's allergic to the pollen," he said curtly, already turning to guide Emily inside. Sophia stood rooted to the spot, her heart breaking. Emily's delicate voice carried through the air. "Lucas, Sophia seems upset. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have complained about the roses." "She doesn't matter to me," Lucas reassured her. "But I worry she'll resent me. Really, I can manage with allergy medication," Emily offered, her voice dripping with false concern. "Medication always has side effects. Don't suggest things that worry me," he replied. Sophia stood motionless as she watched their figures grow smaller in the distance. A silent tear traced its way down her cheek while overwhelming sorrow washed over her. 'I don't matter to him... Yeah, right,' Sophia murmured with bitter irony, the truth of the words settling like a weight in her heart. He hadn't even asked about her absence last night, and now he had ordered her favorite roses to be torn out. The message was clear—she meant less to him than the slightest thought of Emily. For three years, she had devoted herself to him, offering unwavering love and comfort through difficult times. She had believed her constant warmth could thaw even the coldest heart, but Emily's reappearance had erased everything in an instant. She wondered what their intimacy these past six months had truly meant, and what role she had actually played in his life. A sudden twinge in her lower abdomen made her catch her breath. Pale and unsteady, she turned toward the villa. As Sophia stepped into the living room, she saw Emily nestled against Lucas on the sofa, watching with affectionate amusement as he peeled an orange for her. Lucas gently picked away every bit of white pith from the orange segments before arranging them on a plate for Emily. "For you," he said with a soft smile. "Enjoy, my little foodie." As Emily took the plate, she noticed Sophia entering the room. A triumphant smile graced her lips as she called out, "Sophia, would you like some? Lucas peeled these himself. Something you've never experienced, I'm sure." Sophia's gaze fell upon the perfectly prepared orange segments, and she felt a sudden sting behind her eyes. The painful truth was that in all their time together, Lucas had never once peeled an orange for her. She had always been the one serving him. The realization struck her with perfect clarity—Lucas knew well how to be thoughtful, but he simply reserved his kindness for Emily. Sophia felt her heart breaking into pieces as she finally understood how painful comparison could be. "She's perfectly capable of peeling her own fruit," Lucas said dismissively, barely glancing at Sophia. Then he noticed her pale complexion and added, "Are you alright? You look terribly pale." Sophia's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she debated telling Lucas her secret pregnancy. A fragile hope whispered within her—that this truth might finally soften his heart toward her. "I..." Her voice faltered, the words dying on her lips. "If you're ill, see a doctor. This pathetic act is getting tiresome," Lucas said, impatience flashing across his handsome features. He was annoyed by her wounded expression, which seemed to suggest she was the victim of some terrible injustice. Sophia swallowed her unspoken words, her gaze lingering on the man who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. "I'm fine," she murmured. "I'll just go to my room." As she turned toward the staircase, Lucas felt a surge of irritation. 'I must've been too lenient with her, and now she dared to show me attitude,' he thought, fuming. Sophia had only climbed a few steps when the housekeeper, Wendy, appeared descending the stairs with servants carrying boxes. The items looked familiar, but it was the sight of her stuffed doll in Wendy's arms that made Sophia realize everything they carried was hers. In a swift motion, she stepped forward and snatched the doll. Her voice turned icy as she asked, "Wendy, care to explain this?" "Mr. Westwood's orders," Wendy said quietly. "You're to move to the storage room downstairs." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, leaving her mind reeling. She turned to Lucas, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious." They'd already maintained separate bedrooms, but she never imagined that she'd be banished to a storage room instead of even being offered the guest suite after Emily's return. For a fleeting moment under her gaze, Lucas felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly hardened into resolve. "Emily needs the sunroom for her health," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your room gets the best light. It's better for her recovery." The absurdity of it all drew a bitter laugh from Sophia's lips. She thought his previous cruelty—shoving her while pregnant and replacing her roses with Emily's cherry trees—had been the worst it could get. But this new humiliation surpassed even that. All Lucas had done since Emily's return yesterday was talk about her. In just one day, she had turned Sophia's whole life upside down. Sophia expected to feel rage, but instead found only a hollow emptiness settling in her chest. 'Look at him, Sophia,' Sophia thought bitterly. 'This is the man you gave your heart and soul to. Was any of it worth it?' "If you're so worried about her comfort, why not just move her into your room? The master suite gets the best light anyway," Sophia shot back. Lucas responded sharply, "Sophia, you need to watch your tone." Emily's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I know you don't want me here, Sophia. I'll go. Please don't fight with Lucas over me." Sophia saw right through Emily's act. A humorless laugh escaped her as she spat, "You're not going anywhere. I am." Tightening her grip on the stuffed doll, she turned and headed for the door. "Don't you dare, Sophia." Lucas rose to his feet, his voice cutting through the room. "Walk out that door now, and don't expect to ever come back." Sophia's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "I'll make sure you receive the divorce papers," she said, her voice cold and steady. "See that you sign them." "You're asking me for a divorce?" Lucas's voice was low, thick with barely restrained fury. He added, his tone edged with contempt, "Have you forgotten who gave you this life, Sophia? The luxury, the status—all of it came from me. Without my name, you're just that wide-eyed girl fresh off that forgotten little town. You don't get to leave." Chapter 3 The Replaced Medical Result Sophia didn't need to look back to know the condescending smirk that was surely on Lucas's face. She knew he had always despised her. His proposal three years ago had been motivated only by a desire to fulfill the marriage agreement between their families and to exact revenge on Emily. She had been naive enough to believe his empty promises, offering him her genuine love when he saw her as nothing more than a pawn. To him, she would always be a leech, clinging to his wealth and name for survival. But now, she had reached her limit, and she no longer wanted him in her life. Sophia walked out without a backward glance. As she stepped through the gateway, the sound of shattering porcelain echoed behind her, but she no longer cared. Lucas stood amid the shattered remains, fingers pressed to his temples. His face was a mask of simmering anger. He dismissed the mention of divorce as just another one of her calculated moves, a transparent attempt to get his attention by pulling away. Emily watched him hesitantly. "Maybe I shouldn't be staying here, Lucas. Sophia seemed really upset." "It's nothing," Lucas replied evenly. Seeing how the mention of divorce had affected him, she suggested softly, "You could go after her. Women usually respond well to a little reassurance." "I don't have time for that," Lucas said, turning toward the staircase. With a business trip looming, his mind was elsewhere. 'Let her make a scene if she wants to,' he thought. 'She'll cool off and come crawling back. She always does.' ***** Sophia's home was a beautiful 3,200-square-foot apartment with an open-concept layout and sleek modern decor—all paid for with her own earnings. In her study, she printed the divorce papers and a letter resigning from her position. With a steady hand, she signed both, and then summoned a courier to deliver them directly to the Westwood Group. When she married Lucas three years ago, Sophia had joined his company, hoping to build a genuine connection with him. She started at the very bottom as an assistant and gradually earned her way up to department manager. She had wanted nothing more than to be close to him—in their home and at work. But in the end, her efforts were met with cold indifference. Gazing downward, Sophia softly cradled her stomach. "It's just us now, little one," she whispered. The courier arrived at Westwood headquarters while Lucas was away. His chief executive assistant, Kevin Chapman, received the delivery and signed. The moment Kevin saw the contents, he reached for the phone, dialing Lucas's number in haste. "Mr. Westwood, your wife has sent divorce documents." "Burn it all." On the other side of the ocean, Lucas loosened his tie as an unexpected wave of irritation came over him. "But Mrs. Westwood has even submitted her resignation letter..." Kevin replied, his tone hesitant. "She can't survive without this family." The blue flame from Lucas's lighter highlighted the grim set of his features. "Let her be. She'll come crawling back once reality sets in." Meanwhile, Sophia remained completely unaware of his words. Her morning had begun with a call from her mother-in-law, Helen Westwood. "Where are you? Return at once," Helen commanded in her typically imperious manner, leaving no room for discussion. Complying, Sophia drove back to the estate. No sooner had she stepped inside than a velvet box came hurling toward her head, which she narrowly avoided by stepping aside. Helen's shrill voice pierced the air. "How dare you avoid that? You've got some nerve." Sophia's gaze fell upon the velvet box at her feet, and suddenly, she understood why it seemed familiar. She remembered purchasing that exact box to store her pregnancy test results. On Lucas's birthday, she had intended to present it to him as a gift, but he had accidentally pushed her before she could give it to him, resulting in her hospitalization. Her heart leaped as she turned to face Helen's livid expression. 'Could she know about the pregnancy? But something about her reaction seems strange,' she wondered. For three years, Helen had made no secret of her disapproval of Sophia, someone raised in a small town. Yet every time Sophia visited the Westwood residence with Lucas, Helen would consistently nag Sophia about starting a family soon. If Helen knew Sophia was pregnant, she was supposed to be absolutely delighted instead of reacting like this. Helen clutched a medical report, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared down Sophia. "For three years, I've watched your marriage to Lucas, wondering why you never conceived. Now I understand—he married a barren woman. "If you hadn't left this at the hotel and Lucas's friend hadn't been kind enough to deliver it, I'd still be in the dark about your condition." Heart pounding with shock, Sophia ignored Helen's murderous gaze and snatched the document from her hand. The clinical report lay cold and pale in the morning light. There was her name, clearly printed, alongside the devastating diagnosis: "permanent infertility." 'Permanent infertility? But that's impossible. I'm pregnant. Someone must have switched my test results. But who would do such a thing?' Sophia wondered. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "This isn't my..." Emily, who had remained silent until now, suddenly interrupted, "Sophia, the Westwood lineage has been passed down through a single heir for ten generations. Are you trying to ensure Lucas dies without an heir? To extinguish the family line completely?" "How utterly heartless!" Helen exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Sophia as her anger reached its peak. "We've welcomed you with open arms since you married into this family. Yet you've been hiding this from us? To think you'd let our family line die out—it's truly despicable!" she added. Sophia didn't even attempt to explain herself. If they wanted to believe she was barren, so be it—it would only simplify the divorce proceedings. "I only received the results two days ago. I hadn't found the right moment to share the news," Sophia replied, her voice calm. "This wasn't about finding the right moment. You did this intentionally," Helen retorted, her face contorted with rage. "And you planned to give this to Lucas as a gift? What kind of twisted mind would conceive such a thing?" Sophia maintained her silence. Helen took a measured breath, forcing her anger down. "If you can't conceive naturally, I won't hold it against you. I've spoken with Emily, and she's agreed to donate her eggs so you and Lucas can pursue in vitro fertilization." Sophia stared in disbelief at the unexpected turn. "Could you repeat that?" She believed she had misheard because the suggestion was both preposterous and deeply offensive. "If you can't conceive, that's your problem. Emily is being extraordinarily generous by offering her eggs. The least you could do is show some appreciation instead of this ingratitude," Helen sneered. A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. "Perhaps you'd like to accept this generous offer yourself?" "How dare you speak to me like that!" Helen's eyes flashed with fury. "Sophia, you shouldn't speak to Mrs. Westwood that way. She was suggesting that for your sake," Emily said in a honeyed tone, reaching for the glass. As she moved, she made certain to display the prayer beads circling her delicate wrist. Sophia's breath caught—she would recognize the bracelet anywhere. That was the very ones she had sacrificed so much to obtain while praying for Lucas's recovery. It felt like a personal insult, seeing the bracelet that symbolized her love for Lucas now clasped around Emily's wrist. "For my sake?" Sophia repeated, the words tasting bitter as she caught the sly glint of satisfaction in Emily's eyes. It sent a sharp ache through her. She knew this game all too well. Emily had a gift for twisting people's vulnerabilities to her advantage, a lesson Sophia had learned the hard way three years ago. "I'm infertile. What possible use could I have for your eggs?" Sophia asked, her voice cold. "Do you really think I need a constant reminder of what I can't have?" Emily's smile vanished. For Helen's benefit, she bit her lip, her eyes instantly welling with feigned hurt. "Mrs. Westwood," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "I was only trying to help Sophia." Helen immediately comforted Emily by patting her hand. She then shot Sophia a disapproving look. "How can you be so selfish, Sophia? Are you really determined to let the Westwood family line die out?" Sophia gestured dismissively toward Emily. "Well, if she's so fertile, let her handle the baby-making." The thought of Emily getting to be a mother the easy way turned Sophia's stomach. Chapter 4 Take Back Her Things The color drained from both Helen's and Emily's faces. Helen stepped forward, jabbing a finger toward Sophia. "You think you're better than us? Then you give the Westwood family an heir. Don't blame anyone else for your own useless womb." Sophia bit back the sharp retort on her tongue. She was done with this family, done with Lucas. Arguing now would only prolong the inevitable. "Mrs. Westwood," she began, "I've decided—" Lucas's familiar, deep voice cut through the tension from the doorway. "Decided what?" Sophia turned to see Lucas standing there, his clothes rumpled from travel. His assistant, Kevin, hovered behind him with a suitcase in hand. The air in the room was thick with tension, so Kevin knew better than to stay. He simply left the suitcase by the door and made a quick exit. Loosening his tie, Lucas turned to Helen. "Mom, what brings you here?" "If I hadn't come, you'd have let our family name die out," Helen shot back. She then snatched the medical report from Sophia and flung it at Lucas's chest. "See for yourself," she said coldly, and with that, she swept out of the room. Lucas looked down at the document in his hands, and the words "permanent infertility" caused a faint twitch in his brow. His eyes, when they finally lifted to meet Sophia's, were devoid of warmth. "You'll go back to the hospital tomorrow for a full work-up. I will not have a wife who can't give me an heir." A hollow ache spread through Sophia's chest. Any foolish hope she'd been clinging to finally faded. Lucas had never defended her in three years of his mother's constant belittlement. And now, the ease with which he believed this lie revealed the chilling truth of his character. "I have the divorce papers right here," Sophia said, pulling the documents from her bag. She extended them toward him, her voice steady. "Just sign them, and you'll never have to see me again." Lucas didn't even look at the papers. In one swift motion, his hand closed around her throat, pulling her close. He leaned in until his face was mere inches from hers, and she could feel his warm breath and smell the familiar scent of his cologne. There was a time when this closeness would have made her heart flutter. Now, it only made her skin crawl. It was amazing how easy it was to walk away when all the love had drained away. "Sophia, have I been too soft with you?" Lucas's voice was thick with contempt. "Where exactly do you think you'll go without my protection?" She held his gaze without flinching. "That's really none of your concern anymore." "Still got that sharp tongue," he sneered. He released her with a dismissive shove, as if her defiance meant nothing. "Go make me dinner. I'm hungry." A wave of pain shot through Sophia's lower abdomen as she sank into the sofa, her skin turning clammy with an instant, cold sweat. Across the room, Emily slid her arm through Lucas's with practiced ease. "Don't let Sophia bother you," she murmured. "Her little scene was just a cry for your attention." Lucas pulled his tie free, his stern expression melting away as he focused on Emily. "How are you holding up?" he asked, his tone gentler. "I'm fine," she sighed, putting on a pitiful face. "It's just that the medicine is so awfully bitter." "It's bitter because it's strong. You need to keep taking it," he reminded her. "I picked up those candies you like. They're in my suitcase. Go get them yourself." "I know you always look out for me," Emily said, stretching up to press a light kiss to Lucas's cheek. "Consider that your reward." A look of quiet satisfaction crossed his features at the gesture. "I'm going up to shower," he said. "Go ahead," Emily said sweetly, fluttering a wave at him. She waited until Lucas's footsteps faded up the staircase before turning to the suitcase. They carried on as if Sophia weren't standing right there in the same room. Humming cheerfully, Emily unzipped the luggage. Alongside Lucas's neatly folded clothes sat a jar of shimmering candies and an elegant red velvet box that clearly held something valuable. Her eyes skipped over the candy, going straight to the velvet box. When she lifted the lid, a pink diamond necklace lay gleaming, its facets scattering rainbows in the light. "Oh, it's exquisite. I love it," she whispered, her eyes widening. "So the candy was just a decoy. This necklace is what he really wanted me to find." Draping the necklace against her collarbone, Emily turned to face Sophia, who had risen from the sofa. "Well, Sophia? Don't you think it suits me perfectly?" The pink diamond necklace around Emily's neck struck Sophia as oddly familiar. It came to her a moment later—she had coveted it last month while flipping through a magazine. Lucas had seen her fascination and promised to get it for her. The catch was its exclusivity—a single piece, sourced from Melaria, the country where Lucas had been attending to business. "That was for me," Sophia said, her voice calm. The man was disposable, but her possessions were not. She would reclaim what was rightfully hers. With a swift motion, Emily clasped the necklace. "Finders keepers," she said with a mocking grin. Sophia approached for a closer look. Though the necklace was more exquisite than its photograph, any desire for it had vanished. A wary look crossed Emily's face. "What is this about?" "To take what belongs to me, of course," Sophia said, stepping close and extending her hand. "It's time you returned it." Emily's hands instinctively flew to the diamond necklace at her throat. "Lucas will never stand for this, Sophia. You know what I mean to him." Sophia almost laughed. She knew well that Emily held a special place in Lucas's heart. But that was irrelevant. She was only claiming what was hers. "Give the bracelet back to me," Sophia said coldly. It was a token earned through true devotion, and she wouldn't let its significance be tarnished. Realizing Sophia only wanted the simple bracelet, Emily smiled condescendingly. 'Some shortsighted people have no taste,' she thought. Emily twisted the bracelet around her wrist. "I heard you went to Grace Abbey to beg for this good-luck charm," she said. "You are so hung up on him, aren't you?" The hypocrisy of her words was almost laughable. "Give it back," Sophia said, her voice like ice. Emily's eyes flickered to a point behind Sophia, and a sly smile touched her lips. She lowered her voice. "If you want it so badly, why don't you come and take it?" Sophia didn't stop to think. She grabbed Emily's wrist and tugged the bracelet free. The moment it was off, Emily's demeanor shifted completely. "Sophia, what are you doing?" she cried out, her voice suddenly loud and panicked. "Lucas gave this to me." Before Sophia could even turn around, a powerful hand seized her by the collar and hauled her backwards. The fabric dug sharply into her throat, stealing her breath. Stumbling to regain her footing, Sophia looked up to see Lucas. He was already cradling Emily. "Emily, are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern. Emily buried her face in his chest. "I'm fine," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Please, don't be angry with Sophia. She didn't mean it." Lucas's jaw tightened, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. He took a deep breath and fixed Sophia with an icy stare. "Apologize to Emily." Chapter 5 She Wants A Clean Break A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. She had fooled herself into thinking she was numb to Lucas's coldness. But his command still sent a fresh, sharp pain through her chest. She knew there was no point arguing with a man who had already chosen the other woman's side. "I won't apologize," Sophia said, her fist closing tightly around the bracelet. "What for?" Emily looked up at Lucas with well-practiced vulnerability. "I'm causing trouble here, Lucas. I should go." Lucas caught her wrist before she could take a second step. "You're staying right here." His attention snapped back to Sophia, his expression darkening. "Now, Sophia, apologize to Emily." The room blurred as tears filled Sophia's eyes, twisting his familiar face into a stranger's. She lifted the simple bracelet between them. "This is my stuff in the first place. Since when is taking back what was stolen a crime?" "Your stuff? Since when do you have anything of your own?" Lucas's lips curled in a sneer. "I've paid for every stitch of clothing on your back." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, forcing a bitter laugh from her lips. He knew perfectly well she earned her own living, yet he took every opportunity to demean her. "This bracelet came from Grace Abbey," she countered, her voice trembling. "You didn't pay a cent for it." Lucas's eyes dropped to the simple beads in her palm. "You think I care about some cheap bracelet?" he scoffed. Hot tears streamed down Sophia's face without warning. Wiping them away, Sophia made a silent vow—this would be the last time he reduced her to this. "Fine!" With one sharp motion, she snapped the bracelet's cord, sending beads skittering across the floor. Lucas watched the scattered beads come to rest, his hand curling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. He knew how much that bracelet meant to her, but the moment Emily wanted it, he didn't hesitate to take it off and hand it over. Lucas's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "Sophia!" "I want a divorce," Sophia said, her voice eerily calm. As she opened her hand, the last bead from the bracelet clattered onto the floor between them. "Let's just end this." The sound was small, but in the tense silence, it was deafening, echoing in Lucas's mind. He let out a short laugh, his gaze locked on her. "You think a threat will work? You should know better than that by now." 'This has to be a ploy,' he thought to himself. 'She loves me too much to go through with it. She has accepted her role as Emily's replacement from the beginning and has never once tried to leave. 'She would never have the strength to walk away from me.' "Go make us something to eat, and we can forget this ever happened." Lucas was certain he had thrown Sophia a lifeline. He waited, fully expecting her to be overcome with relief and scurry off to the kitchen. He'd been away on business, and days of unfamiliar rich food had left his stomach unsettled. What he craved was Sophia's cooking—simple, hearty food that tasted like home. It was a flavor he couldn't find anywhere else. "You can go eat your ass," Sophia shot back. She picked up her bag, her lips twisting into a scornful smile, and walked out without a backward glance. That smile grated on Lucas's nerves more than the insult itself. In his frustration, his eyes fell on the string of prayer beads lying scattered on the floor, and he gave them an impatient kick. 'So that's her game. She wants to challenge me? I'd like to see just how long her resolve will hold,' he thought, fuming. ***** Sophia sped away from Nightfall Estate, her phone buzzing relentlessly on the passenger seat. Lucas's name flashed across the screen again and again until she finally grabbed it and blocked his number for good. When she looked up at the road, she blinked, her vision blurring for a moment. She braced for the familiar sting of tears, but when her fingers touched her skin, it was dry. It was only then that she noticed the soft patter against the windshield. A fine drizzle had begun to fall, and a quiet melancholy settled over her, as gray as the sky. Up ahead, the flickering hazard lights of a sleek black car broke the rhythm of the rain. A man in a soaked suit, looking to be in his forties, stood beside it, waving frantically at passing traffic. Almost without conscious thought, Sophia found herself flipping on her turn signal and pulling over. She rolled down her window as the man rushed over. "Everything okay?" she asked. "It's my boss," the man said, his voice tight with panic. "He's having a heart attack. The ambulance is stuck in a multi-car accident. Please, can you take us to the hospital?" Sophia hesitated. Letting two strange men into her car, especially in this weather, felt dangerous. Every cautionary tale she'd ever heard flashed through her mind. Seeing her hesitation, the man added urgently, "I promise we're not dangerous. My boss is—" But Sophia was already moving, cutting the engine and stepping out into the downpour. "Just get him to my car, now," she called out as she rushed toward their vehicle. As she got closer, she recognized the distinctive emblem of the black Maybach. Working together, they carefully transferred the elderly man from the luxury sedan into Sophia's more modest car. The old man's lips were tinged with blue, and each ragged breath seemed like a struggle, clear signs of his critical condition. Sliding behind the wheel, Sophia started the car and pulled back onto the road, pushing through the veils of rain. In the backseat, the middle-aged man was a whirlwind of activity on his phone, coordinating with a hospital and alerting the family. Beyond the windows, the storm seemed to intensify, as if trying to match the urgency inside the car. After ensuring everything was in place, the man turned to Sophia with heartfelt appreciation. "You're the only one who stopped in this downpour. We can't thank you enough." A warm smile touched Sophia's lips. "Some things are just meant to be." ***** Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital entrance where medical staff stood ready. The team swiftly transferred the elderly man to a stretcher and hurried him inside for emergency care. Just as Sophia was about to drive away, she spotted a lone leather shoe in the backseat—the one the elderly man had been wearing. After a moment's hesitation, she parked properly and carried the shoe to the reception desk, logging it as a lost item. Sophia was just turning to leave when a group emerged from the hospital's main entrance. At the front of the group was a man whose height and posture commanded attention. He turned his sharp gaze on her, and the intensity in his eyes was so commanding that it felt like a physical pressure. 'That frown means trouble,' Sophia thought. She averted her gaze and continued walking, brushing past the group without a second look. It wasn't until she was back in the driver's seat that she felt the chill of her wet clothes clinging to her skin. As she dried her hair with a towel from the backseat, a notification popped up on her phone while she was opening the navigation app. It was a post from Emily: [Nothing says 'forever' like a soft-boiled egg made with love! My ultimate comfort food.] The post featured two photos—one showed a soft-boiled egg with a ketchup heart, and the other captured a tall man's back as he stood at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Sophia couldn't help but compare. When she was with Lucas, he had acted like even pouring her a glass of water was a significant concession. Cooking a meal was utterly out of the question. The fact that he was now cooking for Emily spoke volumes about where his true affections lay. She closed the page and entered her apartment address into the navigation system before driving out of the parking lot. As she watched the heavy rain outside, a single decisive thought crystallized in her mind—this marriage was over. Chapter 6 Return The Trash To The Dumpster That evening, a text came through from Annabelle Quinn, Sophia's best friend since college, insisting they go out to a lounge. The old Sophia would have declined immediately, conditioned to obey Lucas's rule about her not going out. But now that Sophia was divorcing him, his opinions held no weight. ***** The moment Sophia stepped out of the car, she saw Annabelle waiting by the entrance. "Hope you haven't been waiting long," she said as she approached. "Just got here," Annabelle grinned, looping her arm through Sophia's. "So, what's the special occasion? Did you finally get a night off from your sweetheart?" Sophia struggled to find the words, but she couldn't keep it from her best friend. "I'm getting a divorce," she finally said. "Let me guess," Annabelle said, not one to mince words in front of her best friend. "This is about Emily being back, isn't it?" "It's not just that," Sophia admitted, her voice quiet. It just took seeing the difference for herself to truly see how little her three years of effort had meant. Annabelle threw a supportive arm around Sophia's shoulders. "You should have woken up to this a long time ago." For three years, she had watched Sophia lose herself in a hollow relationship, and it killed Annabelle to see her friend throw everything away for a man who never appreciated her. "Better late than never," Sophia offered with a weak smile. "Damn right it is," Annabelle declared. "Tonight, I'm getting us the best male models in town. You deserve some real attention." They ascended into the pulsating heart of the club, pushing through the glittering crowd toward the exclusive booth Annabelle had booked. As they moved past the entrance to a private booth, a burst of laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway. Amid the noise, Sophia's own name caught her sharp ear. "Got to hand it to Lucas. The minute Emily was back, he moved her right in. Word is, he showed Sophia the door." "Well, she had it coming. Play the simp, and you lose it all. Seriously though, that night in the booth with all the blood? I truly thought a tragedy had occurred, but it was probably just her period." "You're thinking about that? Man, have you had a thing for Sophia all along?" "Who'd pine after some nobody from a backwater? Only Lucas, with his unique preferences, would stick around for three years." "Guess the novelty wore off. Time for a change." Standing in the hallway, Sophia felt a cold stillness settle behind her eyes. The voices clicked into place—Lucas's oldest friends. They had been there that night, spectators to her most shameful moment. Annabelle's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind." But as she moved toward the door, Sophia stopped her with a gentle hand. "This is my battle to fight," Sophia said firmly. With that, Sophia pushed the door open and swept into the room. She settled gracefully onto the sofa, joining their conversation with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you're talking about unique preferences, I top him," she began, her voice deceptively light, "I recycled what Emily threw away. But it looks like I did everyone a favor by returning the trash to the dumpster where it belongs." A stunned silence fell over the room. Every face on the circular sofa stared at her in horrified fascination. Unbeknownst to Sophia, two figures had entered the room behind her during her speech. The guests' eyes darted nervously between Sophia and the newcomers, the air thickening with tension. There stood Lucas and Emily, their expressions dark as storm clouds. Their presence made Sophia turn. Her eyes instantly met the cold, dark stare of Lucas. But she didn't back down. A defiant shrug lifted her shoulders. "Look what the cat dragged in. My trash husband." Emily's eyes instantly glistened with tears. "Sophia, ignore them," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "It's all lies. Lucas and I are just friends." As if to prove her point, she clutched Lucas's arm. "Tell her, Lucas. Make her understand there's nothing going on between us." Sophia's gaze dropped to the hand clinging to Lucas's arm, and a faint, derisive smile touched her mouth. 'Just friends? Did she really expect anyone to believe that?' she thought bitterly. Lucas detached himself from Emily's grip and closed the distance between him and Sophia. The motion broke the tension, stirring his friends into action. "Hey, Lucas, take it easy," one of them said, stepping forward. "She's just reacting to our stupid jokes." "Come on, Sophia, just say you're sorry to Lucas," another one urged. "You know he'll forgive you." The suggestion made Sophia want to laugh bitterly. 'Is this really how they see me? As some lovesick fool who'd come crawling back at the first sign of forgiveness?' she thought. It explained everything—why, for three years, they had shown her phony respect as Lucas's wife while mocking her devotion in private. She had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn't met Lucas seven years ago, if that fateful incident hadn't tied her to him, she would have moved on with her life long ago. "Are you quite done?" Lucas's voice cut through her thoughts as he reached for her arm. She shifted her weight gracefully, letting his hand close on empty air. The rejected gesture hung between them for a beat too long before he withdrew, his features tightening with displeasure. Turning to Emily, who was now dabbing at her eyes, Sophia arched a brow. "There's no need for the waterworks. You're making it look like I'm the one being cruel here." "Sophia, I've treated you like my elder sister. I—" Emily began, trying to defend herself. "Don't," Sophia interrupted, her voice cool. "We arrived minutes apart, and you were first. Let's skip the emotional act." Emily's face turned from pale to deep red as she clenched her jaw in fury. 'Since when has Sophia found this kind of nerve? She used to shrink into silence whenever Lucas was near,' she thought. Despite her three-year absence from the city, Emily had ensured she received every scrap of information about Sophia's life. She knew all about Sophia's pathetic attempts to please Lucas, and she knew exactly how little he cared for his wife. She even knew they kept separate bedrooms, and that on the occasional night Lucas spent with Sophia, he always sent her back to her own room afterward. She knew that to Lucas, Sophia was just a body—convenient, disposable, and utterly unimportant. With a dark expression, Lucas grabbed Sophia's wrist and began pulling her toward the exit. Sophia's answer was a sharp, stinging slap across his cheek. The sound cracked through the air, and a dead silence fell over the room. All eyes were fixed on Sophia in pure shock. Everyone was wondering if she had lost her mind to dare something like that. Lucas slowly worked his jaw, the look in his eyes so dark that it promised retribution. When Sophia resisted, Lucas didn't hesitate. He swept her up onto his shoulder and carried her out of the room. The sight made Emily's heart clench. She'd never seen Lucas be so patient with anyone. Before she knew it, her hand was on his arm. "Lucas..." He didn't turn his head, but some of the tension left his expression. "I'm taking her home," he said firmly. "The driver will return for you when you're ready." Emily could only watch as Lucas walked away with Sophia. She had no right to stop him, but it stung—this was the first time he'd ever left her for another woman, especially one who meant nothing. Her hands tightened at her sides. 'I gave you a chance to walk away quietly, Sophia. You brought this on yourself,' she thought. Sophia's protests echoed down the hallway as she struggled against Lucas's hold. Unsure what was happening between the couple, Annabelle turned away, pretending she hadn't noticed them. Lucas carried Sophia into the elevator and stepped out briskly when it reached the basement level. As the car door opened, Lucas tossed Sophia into the back seat. Struggling upright, she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea from the prolonged time she'd spent upside down. She opened her mouth to curse, but the words died on her lips as the tinted window of a nearby Maybach began to descend. In the shadowy interior, the man's profile was sharp and forbidding. His lips were set in a firm line, and he sat with the imposing stillness of an iceberg, his presence pushing others away. Sensing her gaze, he glanced over, and their eyes locked. Without a word, Sophia averted her gaze and hid her face behind a veil of tangled hair. Chapter 7 Not Her Home Anymore Lucas's black Bentley pulled out of the underground parking garage, but Sophia was still lost in thought about those intense eyes. There was something familiar about them, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen them before. Lucas's voice broke the silence. "Did you follow me here? What are you so concerned about?" "What?" Sophia asked, snapping back to reality. Keeping his eyes on the road, Lucas tried to explain. "You know how my friends are—they never think before they speak. Don't take their words seriously. There's nothing going on between Emily and me." 'If there's really nothing between them, why was he being so protective? He only rushed me out because he was worried I might cause a scene and embarrass Emily,' Sophia thought. "Sure," Sophia said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You and Emily are completely innocent." "I'm trying to explain myself here," Lucas said, his patience wearing thin. "Do you have to be so sarcastic?" Her ungrateful attitude was beginning to irritate him. He remembered how she used to soften at the slightest reassurance. Now, it seemed her patience had worn thin. "Understood," Sophia said, her tone flat. "Is that all?" "I've been clear from the beginning—you are my wife, and that won't change. But if you want this marriage to work, you need to drop your little tricks. I won't play these games." Sophia stayed quiet, struck by his assumption that her mention of divorce was merely a plea for attention. Her silence tightened the air between them. "Don't become someone I resent, Sophia," he said with a frown, his voice low. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips as she turned toward the window, shutting him out completely. Sensing he had pushed too far, Lucas eased his tone. "I had your things moved back to our room. If you want to stay with me, just say so. There's no need for all this." Sophia was left speechless. ***** As the car came to a stop in the courtyard of Nightfall Estate, Sophia stepped out. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the cherry blossom grove in the garden. The sight sent a sharp pang through her chest. She forced her gaze away and continued into the villa. Inside, the decor had been completely redone. The new style, with its unmistakable resemblance to the Evans residence, clearly revealed who had overseen the renovations. She moved through rooms that felt entirely alien to her now, but she kept her thoughts to herself since this was no longer her home. Wendy looked surprised when she saw Sophia. "Mrs. Westwood, you've returned. Have you had your supper?" Sinking into the plush pink sofa, Sophia answered quietly, "Yes, thank you." Wendy offered a tight smile before retreating to her quarters to make a hurried phone call to Helen, reporting the unexpected arrival. Helen had never approved of Sophia, whom she saw as a plain nobody not good enough for her son. The infertility diagnosis hardened Helen's resolve to rush the divorce so Lucas could marry someone worthy of giving her grandchildren. The news of Sophia's sudden return after her dramatic departure kept Helen tossing and turning all night. Lucas had been certain Sophia would confront him about the complete makeover of their home. He stood ready to smooth things over, but she walked through the rooms without comment, her silence leaving him more unsettled than any argument would have. "If the decor isn't to your taste..." Lucas moved to sit beside her, his arms beginning to encircle her. Sophia reached for a throw pillow, tucking it between them as she shifted away from his embrace. The gentle rejection stung, though Lucas reassured himself that this was the same woman who had always adored him. "It's true. I prefer my original choices," she said calmly. "Can you have everything returned to how it was?" The warm, elegant furnishings had vanished, replaced by the overwhelming pinks that Emily favored—a transformation that had turned their home into something resembling a kitschy boutique hotel. Lucas shifted uncomfortably. "Let's not make a big deal out of it. You'll get used to the way things are around here." A faint, knowing smile curved on Sophia's lips as she met his gaze. That smile never failed to get under his skin. "Try to see it from her perspective, Sophia," he said, his voice tightening. "After everything she's been through these past three years, all Emily wants is to feel like she belongs." A wave of exhaustion washed over her. It was like talking to a brick wall. "I know," she said flatly. "You have your entire family backing you up," Lucas shot back, his patience clearly wearing thin. "But Emily? She has nobody else. Is it really so hard for you to be a little more compassionate?" "Funny," Sophia replied, her tone icy. "I was under the impression my adoptive parents were still very much alive." Besides, the Evans family had never once ceased to think about Emily throughout those three years. They made trip after trip to Felarica to celebrate Emily's birthdays and attend her parties. They even missed Sophia's wedding to Lucas because of her. A single social media post from Emily, complaining of her loneliness in Felarica, was all it took for them to drop everything and fly to her side. "Now that you've made it out of that dead-end town, you should be the last person to let Emily sink into it," he shot back. As Sophia looked at him, the last glimmer of hope in her eyes vanished. She knew well enough to stop mentioning divorce. To Lucas, it was just another act—proof that she was the same desperate woman the world thought her to be. If she couldn't get through to Lucas, she was going to find another path. Now, with her infertility diagnosis, she knew Helen would be far more impatient to act on this news. Sophia retreated to the master bedroom. Her possessions had claimed their space, with her clothes occupying half of the vast closet. A sense of normalcy had finally settled between her and Lucas, the kind that belongs to a husband and wife. But it was a fragile peace, already beginning to fray. Lucas was still in the living room when Emily returned. The air around her carried the sharp tang of liquor. Her face was deeply flushed, and she swayed slightly as she walked. He was at her side in an instant, his hand gently steadying her. "You've had far too much to drink," he murmured, his brow furrowed with worry. "This isn't good for you. I don't want to see you like this again." Emily turned into him, her arms finding their way around his neck. "I couldn't help it," she whispered, her voice thick with drink and emotion. "It's the only thing that dulls the ache." Sensing her legs might give way, he simply gathered her into his arms. "Wendy," he said to the housekeeper who had appeared, heading for the stairs. "Would you bring up some electrolyte water for Emily?" "Understood," Wendy replied. Playing the part of the drunken mess, Emily clung to Lucas and sobbed into his chest. "I've always regretted it," she cried. "Letting my pride push you away was the biggest mistake of my life." A long-buried tenderness tugged at Lucas's heart. "Let's try again, Lucas. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice," she whispered, tilting her face up to his. Just as their lips were about to meet, the master bedroom door swung open, and the sudden movement startled the couple in the hallway. Sophia stood in the doorway in her pajamas, watching them with a completely expressionless face. Lucas instantly snapped back to reality, and a rare look of panic flashed across his handsome face. "Sophie, Emily is drunk," he said quickly. "I'm just taking her back to her room." Still draped around him, Emily met Sophia's eyes over Lucas's shoulder. The tears were gone, replaced by a cool, triumphant smirk that held no trace of intoxication. Sophia's mouth curved into a humorless smile as she replied, "Yes, and you're drunk too." Without another word, she stepped back and slammed the door, the turn of the lock echoing decisively behind her. The idea of sleeping next to Lucas made her blood boil. She honestly didn't trust herself to lie beside him all night without her rage getting the better of her. Chapter 8 Divorce Settlement The next morning, as Sophia left her room, the guest room door across the hall opened at the exact same time. Lucas was stepping out, finishing with his tie. He glanced up and went completely still, finding Sophia already watching him from their bedroom doorway. Surprise flashed across his face, and he started with an explanation. "She was a mess last night," he said, his voice low. "I couldn't just leave her." Sophia's eyes dropped to the bright red smudge on his collar. Her eyes were filled with silent scorn as she thought about how filthy it was. She said with icy calm, "Relax, I know perfectly well that nothing would ever happen between you two, even when you don't have a stitch of clothing on." Her words cut off whatever excuse Lucas was about to offer. Anger darkened his features. "Think what you want," he snapped. "My feelings for her are purely brotherly." Sophia's eyes fell to the lipstick stain on his collar again. "So, how does it feel to be so close to your 'sister'?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Following her line of sight, Lucas saw the evidence, and a shadow of guilt crossed his face. "It was an accident," he insisted, his voice tight. "Don't make it sound so sordid." "So filthy," she murmured, shaking her head. As he drew a sharp breath to retaliate, she added with a cold smile, "I mean your shirt." He stared at her, his expression turning to stone. She merely offered a careless shrug and walked away, leaving him fuming in the hallway. Downstairs, Sophia was halfway through her breakfast when her phone vibrated on the table. A quick glance at the screen confirmed it was Helen calling. Just then, Wendy appeared with two additional breakfast plates. Sophia swiped to answer the call, a deliberate smile directed at Wendy. "You're calling so early, Mrs. Westwood." The pointed smile made Wendy's blood run cold, and at the mention of Mrs. Westwood, she was reminded of betraying Sophia by reporting to Helen last night. Stricken with guilt, she almost fumbled the tray. She dropped the plates onto the table and hastily retreated to the safety of the kitchen. A faint, cold smile touched Sophia's lips as Helen's venomous voice filled her ear. "Utterly devoid of manners," Helen sneered. "What else can you expect from someone with such a common background?" Sophia's eyes turned to ice. "Trace any lineage back three generations, Mrs. Westwood, and you'll find humble roots. It's distasteful to scorn your own origins." Helen found herself at a loss for words. Though Lucas's parents both had city roots, his grandparents' generation had all struggled in a backwater. Helen's parents had even lived in a cowshed. So in that regard, Helen was no better than Sophia. "That sharp tongue of yours is exactly why people can't stand you," Helen shot back. Sophia rolled her eyes in contempt. Biting back her anger, Helen forced a calmer tone. "We need to meet. There's a document for you to sign." "What kind of document?" "It'll be clear when you get here." Letting the matter drop, Sophia hung up. As she did, she saw Lucas descending the staircase. He had showered and changed, his hair perfectly styled like a model from the pages of a magazine. She had to admit, he was pleasing to look at. 'With those looks, he certainly has the assets for a career as a gigolo,' Sophia thought wryly. A smug feeling warmed Lucas as her eyes stayed on him. He drew out the chair next to hers and sat down. "Paliston Fashion Week is just around the corner," he offered. "It'll be a good chance for us to get away." In three years of marriage, it was the first time he had ever proposed such a thing. Sophia acknowledged him with a quiet hum, but she felt no spark of happiness or expectation. She saw the offer for what it was—a peace offering, born of the guilt he carried after his betrayal. Her ride showed up shortly after breakfast. Picking up her bag, Sophia walked out the door.
Chapter 1 His First Love Returned Sophia Evans could feel her world beginning to crack the moment she heard the news—the woman her husband, Lucas Westwood, had never gotten over was back. When Sophia arrived at the hotel's VIP suite with a gift, she found Lucas's first love—Emily Evans—being humiliated by his childhood friends. "Lick the wine off my shoe, Emily. I'll give you thirty thousand dollars," one of them said. Emily was forced to kneel on the floor, tears in her defiant eyes as she stared shamefully at Lucas. Lucas watched with a dark expression, saying nothing as he held his temper in check. Sophia halted mid-step, struck by the painful familiarity of the scene. Three years ago, when she had first been welcomed into the Evans family, these same privileged young men had tormented her in exactly the same way to gain Emily's favor. But back then, Lucas hadn't worn this expression of utter heartbreak. "There you are," Lucas said as soon as he spotted Sophia, his arm sliding around her waist in a show of intimacy. Only Sophia could feel the desperate pressure of his grip—a silent testament to the pain he was trying to conceal. Lucas's childhood friends had reserved the entire venue for his birthday celebration. But Sophia had never expected Emily to show up here. Everyone knew Lucas had married Sophia just to spite Emily. Three years ago, Emily's identity as a fake heiress was exposed. She broke up with Lucas then and there and left the Evans family behind. Lucas pursued her to the airport, boarded her departing flight, and forced the plane that had already taken off to turn back. Right there on that plane, he proposed to Emily. To his complete surprise, Emily refused without hesitation, declaring that the arranged marriage should be honored by the Evans family's true heiress. Humiliated and acting out of spite, Lucas married Sophia instead. For three years, Sophia had lived as Emily's stand-in. Everyone whispered that if Emily ever returned, Lucas would discard Sophia without a second thought. Sophia had once believed that too, but something had shifted in these past six months—Lucas seemed to be genuinely falling for her. He made grand declarations of love in the press, showered her with luxury homes and cars, and even replaced the cherry tree he'd planted for Emily with a garden full of red roses. In their most tender moments, he'd whisper against her ear, "Let's have a baby, Sophie. I hope they have your smile." Sophia's hand drifted absently to her stomach as she clutched the gift box a little tighter. Inside was a positive pregnancy test—meant to be Lucas's birthday surprise. But now, the timing of the gift felt all wrong. "You still think you're the Evans family princess, Emily? Lucas only has eyes for Sophia now. Why not be with me? A pretty thing like you deserves to be treated right," one of Lucas's friends, Ryan Shaw, sneered. He dragged Emily onto his lap, his hands already roaming over her. "Get your hands off me!" Emily cried, fighting against Ryan's grip as humiliation burned through her. Her resistance only fueled Ryan's excitement. In one swift motion, he shoved her down onto the couch, his powerful body trapping hers. Horrified that Ryan would assault Emily right in front of Lucas, Sophia jumped up to stop him, only to be shoved aside as Lucas already surged into action. As she stumbled, her hands instinctively reached for Lucas's arm, but he brutally shook her off. She hit the floor hard, a jolt of sharp pain shooting from her tailbone straight to her womb. Through the pain-induced haze, she saw Lucas grab Ryan by the collar, drag him off Emily, and pummel his face with brutal, unforgiving fists. "You've overstepped, Ryan. Emily is mine. Even if I discard her, she'll never be yours to touch," Lucas snapped. His words hung in the air, and the entire room fell silent as if frozen in time. Sophia stared at Lucas in disbelief, wondering where she stood in his life now that he had openly claimed Emily as his woman. All eyes in the room were drawn to the scene. Some watched with malicious delight, while others were simply captivated by the unfolding drama. Doubled over in pain, Sophia felt a warm wetness spreading beneath her. Her face paled as a cold dread gripped her heart. "Honey, my stomach hurts," she turned to Lucas instinctively. "Please, take me to the hospital." Without even glancing her way, Lucas removed his jacket and gently placed it around Emily's shoulders. Nestling into his embrace, Emily whispered, her voice trembling, "Lucas, I'm scared. Please take me away from here." "Don't worry," he murmured, holding her close. "I won't let anyone hurt you." Sweeping Emily into his arms, Lucas carried her out of the room, completely ignoring Sophia's pain-racked form shuddering on the floor. Perched comfortably on his shoulder, Emily gazed down at Sophia's crumpled form on the floor, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. The spectators murmured among themselves, still savoring the drama they'd just witnessed. "Emily's definitely the one for Lucas. He hasn't taken his eyes off her all night." "The way Lucas looks at her... I thought it was hatred, but it's clearly something else entirely." "Who could resist someone like her? I certainly wouldn't be able to stay angry." "Poor Sophia. She was just a side character in their love story." At the mention of Sophia's name, the crowd remembered her presence simultaneously, their attention shifting to where she sat. Sophia was in terrible pain and covered in a cold sweat until someone finally noticed her condition and quickly helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?" the guy asked. She gripped his arm tightly as the room spun around her. "Please take me to the hospital. My stomach hurts terribly," she pleaded. Then everything went dark as she fainted. Through the haze of semi-consciousness, distant screams about blood echoed in her ears. When Sophia regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a hospital room. The sharp scent of antiseptic hung in the air as she lay alone in the quiet ward. A nurse tending to her bandages noticed her awakening. "You're awake," she said softly. Sophia's voice came out weak and fearful. "My baby... Is my baby alright?" "Your baby is fine," the nurse reassured her. "But you'll need to take special care. These first few months are particularly delicate in your condition." Relief washed over Sophia as grateful tears fell. "Thank you," she whispered, overwhelmed that her child was safe. Through the emotional turmoil, Sophia's first thought was to share the news with Lucas immediately. Wiping her tears, she reached for her phone and dialed his number. The phone rang several times before Lucas finally picked up. His voice was edged with impatience as he answered, "Not coming home tonight. Don't wait—" "Lucas, my hair's caught in this zipper," Emily's voice interrupted, floating through the line. "Could you give me a hand?" Sophia's knuckles went white around her phone. "Be right there," he said. The call ended before Sophia could form a response. Overnight, things between her and Lucas had reverted to how they were six months ago. Back then, he'd been all cold shoulders and sharp tones. Even in their most intimate moments, he treated her like just another need to be met. To him, she might as well have been a stranger—or worse, just a convenient body. So when he finally let his guard down, she'd been so grateful for the warmth that she fell harder than she ever meant to. She thought her years of longing had finally paid off. But reality slapped her senseless when Lucas chose Emily's safety over their own child's life. After being discharged from the hospital, Sophia caught a taxi home. Midway through the ride, her phone buzzed with a Twitter alert. It was a tweet from Emily: [You told me you'd hold my hand and never let go—not for the rest of our lives.] The attached photo showed Emily dressed like a princess, complete with a tiny crown, her hand locked tightly with a larger, elegant hand. Around the wrist was a bracelet made of prayer beads—the very one Sophia had prayed for in a church last year, when Lucas was burning up with fever. That day, he squeezed her hand and whispered a promise that he would never leave her side. Chapter 2 Ask Him For A Divorce The taxi stopped outside the Nightfall Estate, where Sophia paid the fare and got out of the vehicle. She was just heading inside when a truck carrying young cherry trees rumbled up the drive and stopped near the garden. Workers carefully unloaded the cherry trees and settled them into the prepared holes. Where a vibrant sea of red roses had bloomed just yesterday, now only upturned earth remained, with the plants piled carelessly to the side. A dull ache spread through Sophia's chest as she gazed at the rose petals strewn like crimson tears across the soil. The familiar purr of a luxury car engine approached from behind. Turning around, Sophia saw Lucas step out of the car. He stood tall and straight, radiating a natural air of calm elegance. "Honey..." Sophia began, but the words died on her lips as he leaned back into the car. With gentle care, he helped a woman step out—it was Emily, who looked radiant in an exquisite designer ensemble that made her complexion glow. Only when Emily was steady did Lucas's gaze finally meet Sophia's, those usually warm eyes now regarding her with detached indifference. "Did you need something?" he asked, his tone flat. The cold unfamiliarity in his look struck Sophia's heart like a physical blow. "Why are you tearing out the roses when they were growing so well?" she asked, desperate for his explanation. Those roses had been his special way of confessing his feelings to her. Lucas barely glanced at the destroyed garden. "Emily's not feeling well. She'll be staying with us for a bit." "What does that have to do with the roses?" she pressed. "She's allergic to the pollen," he said curtly, already turning to guide Emily inside. Sophia stood rooted to the spot, her heart breaking. Emily's delicate voice carried through the air. "Lucas, Sophia seems upset. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have complained about the roses." "She doesn't matter to me," Lucas reassured her. "But I worry she'll resent me. Really, I can manage with allergy medication," Emily offered, her voice dripping with false concern. "Medication always has side effects. Don't suggest things that worry me," he replied. Sophia stood motionless as she watched their figures grow smaller in the distance. A silent tear traced its way down her cheek while overwhelming sorrow washed over her. 'I don't matter to him... Yeah, right,' Sophia murmured with bitter irony, the truth of the words settling like a weight in her heart. He hadn't even asked about her absence last night, and now he had ordered her favorite roses to be torn out. The message was clear—she meant less to him than the slightest thought of Emily. For three years, she had devoted herself to him, offering unwavering love and comfort through difficult times. She had believed her constant warmth could thaw even the coldest heart, but Emily's reappearance had erased everything in an instant. She wondered what their intimacy these past six months had truly meant, and what role she had actually played in his life. A sudden twinge in her lower abdomen made her catch her breath. Pale and unsteady, she turned toward the villa. As Sophia stepped into the living room, she saw Emily nestled against Lucas on the sofa, watching with affectionate amusement as he peeled an orange for her. Lucas gently picked away every bit of white pith from the orange segments before arranging them on a plate for Emily. "For you," he said with a soft smile. "Enjoy, my little foodie." As Emily took the plate, she noticed Sophia entering the room. A triumphant smile graced her lips as she called out, "Sophia, would you like some? Lucas peeled these himself. Something you've never experienced, I'm sure." Sophia's gaze fell upon the perfectly prepared orange segments, and she felt a sudden sting behind her eyes. The painful truth was that in all their time together, Lucas had never once peeled an orange for her. She had always been the one serving him. The realization struck her with perfect clarity—Lucas knew well how to be thoughtful, but he simply reserved his kindness for Emily. Sophia felt her heart breaking into pieces as she finally understood how painful comparison could be. "She's perfectly capable of peeling her own fruit," Lucas said dismissively, barely glancing at Sophia. Then he noticed her pale complexion and added, "Are you alright? You look terribly pale." Sophia's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she debated telling Lucas her secret pregnancy. A fragile hope whispered within her—that this truth might finally soften his heart toward her. "I..." Her voice faltered, the words dying on her lips. "If you're ill, see a doctor. This pathetic act is getting tiresome," Lucas said, impatience flashing across his handsome features. He was annoyed by her wounded expression, which seemed to suggest she was the victim of some terrible injustice. Sophia swallowed her unspoken words, her gaze lingering on the man who suddenly felt like a complete stranger. "I'm fine," she murmured. "I'll just go to my room." As she turned toward the staircase, Lucas felt a surge of irritation. 'I must've been too lenient with her, and now she dared to show me attitude,' he thought, fuming. Sophia had only climbed a few steps when the housekeeper, Wendy, appeared descending the stairs with servants carrying boxes. The items looked familiar, but it was the sight of her stuffed doll in Wendy's arms that made Sophia realize everything they carried was hers. In a swift motion, she stepped forward and snatched the doll. Her voice turned icy as she asked, "Wendy, care to explain this?" "Mr. Westwood's orders," Wendy said quietly. "You're to move to the storage room downstairs." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, leaving her mind reeling. She turned to Lucas, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious." They'd already maintained separate bedrooms, but she never imagined that she'd be banished to a storage room instead of even being offered the guest suite after Emily's return. For a fleeting moment under her gaze, Lucas felt a twinge of guilt, but it quickly hardened into resolve. "Emily needs the sunroom for her health," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your room gets the best light. It's better for her recovery." The absurdity of it all drew a bitter laugh from Sophia's lips. She thought his previous cruelty—shoving her while pregnant and replacing her roses with Emily's cherry trees—had been the worst it could get. But this new humiliation surpassed even that. All Lucas had done since Emily's return yesterday was talk about her. In just one day, she had turned Sophia's whole life upside down. Sophia expected to feel rage, but instead found only a hollow emptiness settling in her chest. 'Look at him, Sophia,' Sophia thought bitterly. 'This is the man you gave your heart and soul to. Was any of it worth it?' "If you're so worried about her comfort, why not just move her into your room? The master suite gets the best light anyway," Sophia shot back. Lucas responded sharply, "Sophia, you need to watch your tone." Emily's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I know you don't want me here, Sophia. I'll go. Please don't fight with Lucas over me." Sophia saw right through Emily's act. A humorless laugh escaped her as she spat, "You're not going anywhere. I am." Tightening her grip on the stuffed doll, she turned and headed for the door. "Don't you dare, Sophia." Lucas rose to his feet, his voice cutting through the room. "Walk out that door now, and don't expect to ever come back." Sophia's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "I'll make sure you receive the divorce papers," she said, her voice cold and steady. "See that you sign them." "You're asking me for a divorce?" Lucas's voice was low, thick with barely restrained fury. He added, his tone edged with contempt, "Have you forgotten who gave you this life, Sophia? The luxury, the status—all of it came from me. Without my name, you're just that wide-eyed girl fresh off that forgotten little town. You don't get to leave." Chapter 3 The Replaced Medical Result Sophia didn't need to look back to know the condescending smirk that was surely on Lucas's face. She knew he had always despised her. His proposal three years ago had been motivated only by a desire to fulfill the marriage agreement between their families and to exact revenge on Emily. She had been naive enough to believe his empty promises, offering him her genuine love when he saw her as nothing more than a pawn. To him, she would always be a leech, clinging to his wealth and name for survival. But now, she had reached her limit, and she no longer wanted him in her life. Sophia walked out without a backward glance. As she stepped through the gateway, the sound of shattering porcelain echoed behind her, but she no longer cared. Lucas stood amid the shattered remains, fingers pressed to his temples. His face was a mask of simmering anger. He dismissed the mention of divorce as just another one of her calculated moves, a transparent attempt to get his attention by pulling away. Emily watched him hesitantly. "Maybe I shouldn't be staying here, Lucas. Sophia seemed really upset." "It's nothing," Lucas replied evenly. Seeing how the mention of divorce had affected him, she suggested softly, "You could go after her. Women usually respond well to a little reassurance." "I don't have time for that," Lucas said, turning toward the staircase. With a business trip looming, his mind was elsewhere. 'Let her make a scene if she wants to,' he thought. 'She'll cool off and come crawling back. She always does.' ***** Sophia's home was a beautiful 3,200-square-foot apartment with an open-concept layout and sleek modern decor—all paid for with her own earnings. In her study, she printed the divorce papers and a letter resigning from her position. With a steady hand, she signed both, and then summoned a courier to deliver them directly to the Westwood Group. When she married Lucas three years ago, Sophia had joined his company, hoping to build a genuine connection with him. She started at the very bottom as an assistant and gradually earned her way up to department manager. She had wanted nothing more than to be close to him—in their home and at work. But in the end, her efforts were met with cold indifference. Gazing downward, Sophia softly cradled her stomach. "It's just us now, little one," she whispered. The courier arrived at Westwood headquarters while Lucas was away. His chief executive assistant, Kevin Chapman, received the delivery and signed. The moment Kevin saw the contents, he reached for the phone, dialing Lucas's number in haste. "Mr. Westwood, your wife has sent divorce documents." "Burn it all." On the other side of the ocean, Lucas loosened his tie as an unexpected wave of irritation came over him. "But Mrs. Westwood has even submitted her resignation letter..." Kevin replied, his tone hesitant. "She can't survive without this family." The blue flame from Lucas's lighter highlighted the grim set of his features. "Let her be. She'll come crawling back once reality sets in." Meanwhile, Sophia remained completely unaware of his words. Her morning had begun with a call from her mother-in-law, Helen Westwood. "Where are you? Return at once," Helen commanded in her typically imperious manner, leaving no room for discussion. Complying, Sophia drove back to the estate. No sooner had she stepped inside than a velvet box came hurling toward her head, which she narrowly avoided by stepping aside. Helen's shrill voice pierced the air. "How dare you avoid that? You've got some nerve." Sophia's gaze fell upon the velvet box at her feet, and suddenly, she understood why it seemed familiar. She remembered purchasing that exact box to store her pregnancy test results. On Lucas's birthday, she had intended to present it to him as a gift, but he had accidentally pushed her before she could give it to him, resulting in her hospitalization. Her heart leaped as she turned to face Helen's livid expression. 'Could she know about the pregnancy? But something about her reaction seems strange,' she wondered. For three years, Helen had made no secret of her disapproval of Sophia, someone raised in a small town. Yet every time Sophia visited the Westwood residence with Lucas, Helen would consistently nag Sophia about starting a family soon. If Helen knew Sophia was pregnant, she was supposed to be absolutely delighted instead of reacting like this. Helen clutched a medical report, her eyes blazing with fury as she stared down Sophia. "For three years, I've watched your marriage to Lucas, wondering why you never conceived. Now I understand—he married a barren woman. "If you hadn't left this at the hotel and Lucas's friend hadn't been kind enough to deliver it, I'd still be in the dark about your condition." Heart pounding with shock, Sophia ignored Helen's murderous gaze and snatched the document from her hand. The clinical report lay cold and pale in the morning light. There was her name, clearly printed, alongside the devastating diagnosis: "permanent infertility." 'Permanent infertility? But that's impossible. I'm pregnant. Someone must have switched my test results. But who would do such a thing?' Sophia wondered. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "This isn't my..." Emily, who had remained silent until now, suddenly interrupted, "Sophia, the Westwood lineage has been passed down through a single heir for ten generations. Are you trying to ensure Lucas dies without an heir? To extinguish the family line completely?" "How utterly heartless!" Helen exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Sophia as her anger reached its peak. "We've welcomed you with open arms since you married into this family. Yet you've been hiding this from us? To think you'd let our family line die out—it's truly despicable!" she added. Sophia didn't even attempt to explain herself. If they wanted to believe she was barren, so be it—it would only simplify the divorce proceedings. "I only received the results two days ago. I hadn't found the right moment to share the news," Sophia replied, her voice calm. "This wasn't about finding the right moment. You did this intentionally," Helen retorted, her face contorted with rage. "And you planned to give this to Lucas as a gift? What kind of twisted mind would conceive such a thing?" Sophia maintained her silence. Helen took a measured breath, forcing her anger down. "If you can't conceive naturally, I won't hold it against you. I've spoken with Emily, and she's agreed to donate her eggs so you and Lucas can pursue in vitro fertilization." Sophia stared in disbelief at the unexpected turn. "Could you repeat that?" She believed she had misheard because the suggestion was both preposterous and deeply offensive. "If you can't conceive, that's your problem. Emily is being extraordinarily generous by offering her eggs. The least you could do is show some appreciation instead of this ingratitude," Helen sneered. A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. "Perhaps you'd like to accept this generous offer yourself?" "How dare you speak to me like that!" Helen's eyes flashed with fury. "Sophia, you shouldn't speak to Mrs. Westwood that way. She was suggesting that for your sake," Emily said in a honeyed tone, reaching for the glass. As she moved, she made certain to display the prayer beads circling her delicate wrist. Sophia's breath caught—she would recognize the bracelet anywhere. That was the very ones she had sacrificed so much to obtain while praying for Lucas's recovery. It felt like a personal insult, seeing the bracelet that symbolized her love for Lucas now clasped around Emily's wrist. "For my sake?" Sophia repeated, the words tasting bitter as she caught the sly glint of satisfaction in Emily's eyes. It sent a sharp ache through her. She knew this game all too well. Emily had a gift for twisting people's vulnerabilities to her advantage, a lesson Sophia had learned the hard way three years ago. "I'm infertile. What possible use could I have for your eggs?" Sophia asked, her voice cold. "Do you really think I need a constant reminder of what I can't have?" Emily's smile vanished. For Helen's benefit, she bit her lip, her eyes instantly welling with feigned hurt. "Mrs. Westwood," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "I was only trying to help Sophia." Helen immediately comforted Emily by patting her hand. She then shot Sophia a disapproving look. "How can you be so selfish, Sophia? Are you really determined to let the Westwood family line die out?" Sophia gestured dismissively toward Emily. "Well, if she's so fertile, let her handle the baby-making." The thought of Emily getting to be a mother the easy way turned Sophia's stomach. Chapter 4 Take Back Her Things The color drained from both Helen's and Emily's faces. Helen stepped forward, jabbing a finger toward Sophia. "You think you're better than us? Then you give the Westwood family an heir. Don't blame anyone else for your own useless womb." Sophia bit back the sharp retort on her tongue. She was done with this family, done with Lucas. Arguing now would only prolong the inevitable. "Mrs. Westwood," she began, "I've decided—" Lucas's familiar, deep voice cut through the tension from the doorway. "Decided what?" Sophia turned to see Lucas standing there, his clothes rumpled from travel. His assistant, Kevin, hovered behind him with a suitcase in hand. The air in the room was thick with tension, so Kevin knew better than to stay. He simply left the suitcase by the door and made a quick exit. Loosening his tie, Lucas turned to Helen. "Mom, what brings you here?" "If I hadn't come, you'd have let our family name die out," Helen shot back. She then snatched the medical report from Sophia and flung it at Lucas's chest. "See for yourself," she said coldly, and with that, she swept out of the room. Lucas looked down at the document in his hands, and the words "permanent infertility" caused a faint twitch in his brow. His eyes, when they finally lifted to meet Sophia's, were devoid of warmth. "You'll go back to the hospital tomorrow for a full work-up. I will not have a wife who can't give me an heir." A hollow ache spread through Sophia's chest. Any foolish hope she'd been clinging to finally faded. Lucas had never defended her in three years of his mother's constant belittlement. And now, the ease with which he believed this lie revealed the chilling truth of his character. "I have the divorce papers right here," Sophia said, pulling the documents from her bag. She extended them toward him, her voice steady. "Just sign them, and you'll never have to see me again." Lucas didn't even look at the papers. In one swift motion, his hand closed around her throat, pulling her close. He leaned in until his face was mere inches from hers, and she could feel his warm breath and smell the familiar scent of his cologne. There was a time when this closeness would have made her heart flutter. Now, it only made her skin crawl. It was amazing how easy it was to walk away when all the love had drained away. "Sophia, have I been too soft with you?" Lucas's voice was thick with contempt. "Where exactly do you think you'll go without my protection?" She held his gaze without flinching. "That's really none of your concern anymore." "Still got that sharp tongue," he sneered. He released her with a dismissive shove, as if her defiance meant nothing. "Go make me dinner. I'm hungry." A wave of pain shot through Sophia's lower abdomen as she sank into the sofa, her skin turning clammy with an instant, cold sweat. Across the room, Emily slid her arm through Lucas's with practiced ease. "Don't let Sophia bother you," she murmured. "Her little scene was just a cry for your attention." Lucas pulled his tie free, his stern expression melting away as he focused on Emily. "How are you holding up?" he asked, his tone gentler. "I'm fine," she sighed, putting on a pitiful face. "It's just that the medicine is so awfully bitter." "It's bitter because it's strong. You need to keep taking it," he reminded her. "I picked up those candies you like. They're in my suitcase. Go get them yourself." "I know you always look out for me," Emily said, stretching up to press a light kiss to Lucas's cheek. "Consider that your reward." A look of quiet satisfaction crossed his features at the gesture. "I'm going up to shower," he said. "Go ahead," Emily said sweetly, fluttering a wave at him. She waited until Lucas's footsteps faded up the staircase before turning to the suitcase. They carried on as if Sophia weren't standing right there in the same room. Humming cheerfully, Emily unzipped the luggage. Alongside Lucas's neatly folded clothes sat a jar of shimmering candies and an elegant red velvet box that clearly held something valuable. Her eyes skipped over the candy, going straight to the velvet box. When she lifted the lid, a pink diamond necklace lay gleaming, its facets scattering rainbows in the light. "Oh, it's exquisite. I love it," she whispered, her eyes widening. "So the candy was just a decoy. This necklace is what he really wanted me to find." Draping the necklace against her collarbone, Emily turned to face Sophia, who had risen from the sofa. "Well, Sophia? Don't you think it suits me perfectly?" The pink diamond necklace around Emily's neck struck Sophia as oddly familiar. It came to her a moment later—she had coveted it last month while flipping through a magazine. Lucas had seen her fascination and promised to get it for her. The catch was its exclusivity—a single piece, sourced from Melaria, the country where Lucas had been attending to business. "That was for me," Sophia said, her voice calm. The man was disposable, but her possessions were not. She would reclaim what was rightfully hers. With a swift motion, Emily clasped the necklace. "Finders keepers," she said with a mocking grin. Sophia approached for a closer look. Though the necklace was more exquisite than its photograph, any desire for it had vanished. A wary look crossed Emily's face. "What is this about?" "To take what belongs to me, of course," Sophia said, stepping close and extending her hand. "It's time you returned it." Emily's hands instinctively flew to the diamond necklace at her throat. "Lucas will never stand for this, Sophia. You know what I mean to him." Sophia almost laughed. She knew well that Emily held a special place in Lucas's heart. But that was irrelevant. She was only claiming what was hers. "Give the bracelet back to me," Sophia said coldly. It was a token earned through true devotion, and she wouldn't let its significance be tarnished. Realizing Sophia only wanted the simple bracelet, Emily smiled condescendingly. 'Some shortsighted people have no taste,' she thought. Emily twisted the bracelet around her wrist. "I heard you went to Grace Abbey to beg for this good-luck charm," she said. "You are so hung up on him, aren't you?" The hypocrisy of her words was almost laughable. "Give it back," Sophia said, her voice like ice. Emily's eyes flickered to a point behind Sophia, and a sly smile touched her lips. She lowered her voice. "If you want it so badly, why don't you come and take it?" Sophia didn't stop to think. She grabbed Emily's wrist and tugged the bracelet free. The moment it was off, Emily's demeanor shifted completely. "Sophia, what are you doing?" she cried out, her voice suddenly loud and panicked. "Lucas gave this to me." Before Sophia could even turn around, a powerful hand seized her by the collar and hauled her backwards. The fabric dug sharply into her throat, stealing her breath. Stumbling to regain her footing, Sophia looked up to see Lucas. He was already cradling Emily. "Emily, are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern. Emily buried her face in his chest. "I'm fine," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Please, don't be angry with Sophia. She didn't mean it." Lucas's jaw tightened, a vein pulsing visibly at his temple. He took a deep breath and fixed Sophia with an icy stare. "Apologize to Emily." Chapter 5 She Wants A Clean Break A bitter smile touched Sophia's lips. She had fooled herself into thinking she was numb to Lucas's coldness. But his command still sent a fresh, sharp pain through her chest. She knew there was no point arguing with a man who had already chosen the other woman's side. "I won't apologize," Sophia said, her fist closing tightly around the bracelet. "What for?" Emily looked up at Lucas with well-practiced vulnerability. "I'm causing trouble here, Lucas. I should go." Lucas caught her wrist before she could take a second step. "You're staying right here." His attention snapped back to Sophia, his expression darkening. "Now, Sophia, apologize to Emily." The room blurred as tears filled Sophia's eyes, twisting his familiar face into a stranger's. She lifted the simple bracelet between them. "This is my stuff in the first place. Since when is taking back what was stolen a crime?" "Your stuff? Since when do you have anything of your own?" Lucas's lips curled in a sneer. "I've paid for every stitch of clothing on your back." The words hit Sophia like a physical blow, forcing a bitter laugh from her lips. He knew perfectly well she earned her own living, yet he took every opportunity to demean her. "This bracelet came from Grace Abbey," she countered, her voice trembling. "You didn't pay a cent for it." Lucas's eyes dropped to the simple beads in her palm. "You think I care about some cheap bracelet?" he scoffed. Hot tears streamed down Sophia's face without warning. Wiping them away, Sophia made a silent vow—this would be the last time he reduced her to this. "Fine!" With one sharp motion, she snapped the bracelet's cord, sending beads skittering across the floor. Lucas watched the scattered beads come to rest, his hand curling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. He knew how much that bracelet meant to her, but the moment Emily wanted it, he didn't hesitate to take it off and hand it over. Lucas's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "Sophia!" "I want a divorce," Sophia said, her voice eerily calm. As she opened her hand, the last bead from the bracelet clattered onto the floor between them. "Let's just end this." The sound was small, but in the tense silence, it was deafening, echoing in Lucas's mind. He let out a short laugh, his gaze locked on her. "You think a threat will work? You should know better than that by now." 'This has to be a ploy,' he thought to himself. 'She loves me too much to go through with it. She has accepted her role as Emily's replacement from the beginning and has never once tried to leave. 'She would never have the strength to walk away from me.' "Go make us something to eat, and we can forget this ever happened." Lucas was certain he had thrown Sophia a lifeline. He waited, fully expecting her to be overcome with relief and scurry off to the kitchen. He'd been away on business, and days of unfamiliar rich food had left his stomach unsettled. What he craved was Sophia's cooking—simple, hearty food that tasted like home. It was a flavor he couldn't find anywhere else. "You can go eat your ass," Sophia shot back. She picked up her bag, her lips twisting into a scornful smile, and walked out without a backward glance. That smile grated on Lucas's nerves more than the insult itself. In his frustration, his eyes fell on the string of prayer beads lying scattered on the floor, and he gave them an impatient kick. 'So that's her game. She wants to challenge me? I'd like to see just how long her resolve will hold,' he thought, fuming. ***** Sophia sped away from Nightfall Estate, her phone buzzing relentlessly on the passenger seat. Lucas's name flashed across the screen again and again until she finally grabbed it and blocked his number for good. When she looked up at the road, she blinked, her vision blurring for a moment. She braced for the familiar sting of tears, but when her fingers touched her skin, it was dry. It was only then that she noticed the soft patter against the windshield. A fine drizzle had begun to fall, and a quiet melancholy settled over her, as gray as the sky. Up ahead, the flickering hazard lights of a sleek black car broke the rhythm of the rain. A man in a soaked suit, looking to be in his forties, stood beside it, waving frantically at passing traffic. Almost without conscious thought, Sophia found herself flipping on her turn signal and pulling over. She rolled down her window as the man rushed over. "Everything okay?" she asked. "It's my boss," the man said, his voice tight with panic. "He's having a heart attack. The ambulance is stuck in a multi-car accident. Please, can you take us to the hospital?" Sophia hesitated. Letting two strange men into her car, especially in this weather, felt dangerous. Every cautionary tale she'd ever heard flashed through her mind. Seeing her hesitation, the man added urgently, "I promise we're not dangerous. My boss is—" But Sophia was already moving, cutting the engine and stepping out into the downpour. "Just get him to my car, now," she called out as she rushed toward their vehicle. As she got closer, she recognized the distinctive emblem of the black Maybach. Working together, they carefully transferred the elderly man from the luxury sedan into Sophia's more modest car. The old man's lips were tinged with blue, and each ragged breath seemed like a struggle, clear signs of his critical condition. Sliding behind the wheel, Sophia started the car and pulled back onto the road, pushing through the veils of rain. In the backseat, the middle-aged man was a whirlwind of activity on his phone, coordinating with a hospital and alerting the family. Beyond the windows, the storm seemed to intensify, as if trying to match the urgency inside the car. After ensuring everything was in place, the man turned to Sophia with heartfelt appreciation. "You're the only one who stopped in this downpour. We can't thank you enough." A warm smile touched Sophia's lips. "Some things are just meant to be." ***** Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital entrance where medical staff stood ready. The team swiftly transferred the elderly man to a stretcher and hurried him inside for emergency care. Just as Sophia was about to drive away, she spotted a lone leather shoe in the backseat—the one the elderly man had been wearing. After a moment's hesitation, she parked properly and carried the shoe to the reception desk, logging it as a lost item. Sophia was just turning to leave when a group emerged from the hospital's main entrance. At the front of the group was a man whose height and posture commanded attention. He turned his sharp gaze on her, and the intensity in his eyes was so commanding that it felt like a physical pressure. 'That frown means trouble,' Sophia thought. She averted her gaze and continued walking, brushing past the group without a second look. It wasn't until she was back in the driver's seat that she felt the chill of her wet clothes clinging to her skin. As she dried her hair with a towel from the backseat, a notification popped up on her phone while she was opening the navigation app. It was a post from Emily: [Nothing says 'forever' like a soft-boiled egg made with love! My ultimate comfort food.] The post featured two photos—one showed a soft-boiled egg with a ketchup heart, and the other captured a tall man's back as he stood at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Sophia couldn't help but compare. When she was with Lucas, he had acted like even pouring her a glass of water was a significant concession. Cooking a meal was utterly out of the question. The fact that he was now cooking for Emily spoke volumes about where his true affections lay. She closed the page and entered her apartment address into the navigation system before driving out of the parking lot. As she watched the heavy rain outside, a single decisive thought crystallized in her mind—this marriage was over. Chapter 6 Return The Trash To The Dumpster That evening, a text came through from Annabelle Quinn, Sophia's best friend since college, insisting they go out to a lounge. The old Sophia would have declined immediately, conditioned to obey Lucas's rule about her not going out. But now that Sophia was divorcing him, his opinions held no weight. ***** The moment Sophia stepped out of the car, she saw Annabelle waiting by the entrance. "Hope you haven't been waiting long," she said as she approached. "Just got here," Annabelle grinned, looping her arm through Sophia's. "So, what's the special occasion? Did you finally get a night off from your sweetheart?" Sophia struggled to find the words, but she couldn't keep it from her best friend. "I'm getting a divorce," she finally said. "Let me guess," Annabelle said, not one to mince words in front of her best friend. "This is about Emily being back, isn't it?" "It's not just that," Sophia admitted, her voice quiet. It just took seeing the difference for herself to truly see how little her three years of effort had meant. Annabelle threw a supportive arm around Sophia's shoulders. "You should have woken up to this a long time ago." For three years, she had watched Sophia lose herself in a hollow relationship, and it killed Annabelle to see her friend throw everything away for a man who never appreciated her. "Better late than never," Sophia offered with a weak smile. "Damn right it is," Annabelle declared. "Tonight, I'm getting us the best male models in town. You deserve some real attention." They ascended into the pulsating heart of the club, pushing through the glittering crowd toward the exclusive booth Annabelle had booked. As they moved past the entrance to a private booth, a burst of laughter and chatter spilled into the hallway. Amid the noise, Sophia's own name caught her sharp ear. "Got to hand it to Lucas. The minute Emily was back, he moved her right in. Word is, he showed Sophia the door." "Well, she had it coming. Play the simp, and you lose it all. Seriously though, that night in the booth with all the blood? I truly thought a tragedy had occurred, but it was probably just her period." "You're thinking about that? Man, have you had a thing for Sophia all along?" "Who'd pine after some nobody from a backwater? Only Lucas, with his unique preferences, would stick around for three years." "Guess the novelty wore off. Time for a change." Standing in the hallway, Sophia felt a cold stillness settle behind her eyes. The voices clicked into place—Lucas's oldest friends. They had been there that night, spectators to her most shameful moment. Annabelle's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind." But as she moved toward the door, Sophia stopped her with a gentle hand. "This is my battle to fight," Sophia said firmly. With that, Sophia pushed the door open and swept into the room. She settled gracefully onto the sofa, joining their conversation with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you're talking about unique preferences, I top him," she began, her voice deceptively light, "I recycled what Emily threw away. But it looks like I did everyone a favor by returning the trash to the dumpster where it belongs." A stunned silence fell over the room. Every face on the circular sofa stared at her in horrified fascination. Unbeknownst to Sophia, two figures had entered the room behind her during her speech. The guests' eyes darted nervously between Sophia and the newcomers, the air thickening with tension. There stood Lucas and Emily, their expressions dark as storm clouds. Their presence made Sophia turn. Her eyes instantly met the cold, dark stare of Lucas. But she didn't back down. A defiant shrug lifted her shoulders. "Look what the cat dragged in. My trash husband." Emily's eyes instantly glistened with tears. "Sophia, ignore them," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "It's all lies. Lucas and I are just friends." As if to prove her point, she clutched Lucas's arm. "Tell her, Lucas. Make her understand there's nothing going on between us." Sophia's gaze dropped to the hand clinging to Lucas's arm, and a faint, derisive smile touched her mouth. 'Just friends? Did she really expect anyone to believe that?' she thought bitterly. Lucas detached himself from Emily's grip and closed the distance between him and Sophia. The motion broke the tension, stirring his friends into action. "Hey, Lucas, take it easy," one of them said, stepping forward. "She's just reacting to our stupid jokes." "Come on, Sophia, just say you're sorry to Lucas," another one urged. "You know he'll forgive you." The suggestion made Sophia want to laugh bitterly. 'Is this really how they see me? As some lovesick fool who'd come crawling back at the first sign of forgiveness?' she thought. It explained everything—why, for three years, they had shown her phony respect as Lucas's wife while mocking her devotion in private. She had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn't met Lucas seven years ago, if that fateful incident hadn't tied her to him, she would have moved on with her life long ago. "Are you quite done?" Lucas's voice cut through her thoughts as he reached for her arm. She shifted her weight gracefully, letting his hand close on empty air. The rejected gesture hung between them for a beat too long before he withdrew, his features tightening with displeasure. Turning to Emily, who was now dabbing at her eyes, Sophia arched a brow. "There's no need for the waterworks. You're making it look like I'm the one being cruel here." "Sophia, I've treated you like my elder sister. I—" Emily began, trying to defend herself. "Don't," Sophia interrupted, her voice cool. "We arrived minutes apart, and you were first. Let's skip the emotional act." Emily's face turned from pale to deep red as she clenched her jaw in fury. 'Since when has Sophia found this kind of nerve? She used to shrink into silence whenever Lucas was near,' she thought. Despite her three-year absence from the city, Emily had ensured she received every scrap of information about Sophia's life. She knew all about Sophia's pathetic attempts to please Lucas, and she knew exactly how little he cared for his wife. She even knew they kept separate bedrooms, and that on the occasional night Lucas spent with Sophia, he always sent her back to her own room afterward. She knew that to Lucas, Sophia was just a body—convenient, disposable, and utterly unimportant. With a dark expression, Lucas grabbed Sophia's wrist and began pulling her toward the exit. Sophia's answer was a sharp, stinging slap across his cheek. The sound cracked through the air, and a dead silence fell over the room. All eyes were fixed on Sophia in pure shock. Everyone was wondering if she had lost her mind to dare something like that. Lucas slowly worked his jaw, the look in his eyes so dark that it promised retribution. When Sophia resisted, Lucas didn't hesitate. He swept her up onto his shoulder and carried her out of the room. The sight made Emily's heart clench. She'd never seen Lucas be so patient with anyone. Before she knew it, her hand was on his arm. "Lucas..." He didn't turn his head, but some of the tension left his expression. "I'm taking her home," he said firmly. "The driver will return for you when you're ready." Emily could only watch as Lucas walked away with Sophia. She had no right to stop him, but it stung—this was the first time he'd ever left her for another woman, especially one who meant nothing. Her hands tightened at her sides. 'I gave you a chance to walk away quietly, Sophia. You brought this on yourself,' she thought. Sophia's protests echoed down the hallway as she struggled against Lucas's hold. Unsure what was happening between the couple, Annabelle turned away, pretending she hadn't noticed them. Lucas carried Sophia into the elevator and stepped out briskly when it reached the basement level. As the car door opened, Lucas tossed Sophia into the back seat. Struggling upright, she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea from the prolonged time she'd spent upside down. She opened her mouth to curse, but the words died on her lips as the tinted window of a nearby Maybach began to descend. In the shadowy interior, the man's profile was sharp and forbidding. His lips were set in a firm line, and he sat with the imposing stillness of an iceberg, his presence pushing others away. Sensing her gaze, he glanced over, and their eyes locked. Without a word, Sophia averted her gaze and hid her face behind a veil of tangled hair. Chapter 7 Not Her Home Anymore Lucas's black Bentley pulled out of the underground parking garage, but Sophia was still lost in thought about those intense eyes. There was something familiar about them, though she couldn't quite place where she'd seen them before. Lucas's voice broke the silence. "Did you follow me here? What are you so concerned about?" "What?" Sophia asked, snapping back to reality. Keeping his eyes on the road, Lucas tried to explain. "You know how my friends are—they never think before they speak. Don't take their words seriously. There's nothing going on between Emily and me." 'If there's really nothing between them, why was he being so protective? He only rushed me out because he was worried I might cause a scene and embarrass Emily,' Sophia thought. "Sure," Sophia said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You and Emily are completely innocent." "I'm trying to explain myself here," Lucas said, his patience wearing thin. "Do you have to be so sarcastic?" Her ungrateful attitude was beginning to irritate him. He remembered how she used to soften at the slightest reassurance. Now, it seemed her patience had worn thin. "Understood," Sophia said, her tone flat. "Is that all?" "I've been clear from the beginning—you are my wife, and that won't change. But if you want this marriage to work, you need to drop your little tricks. I won't play these games." Sophia stayed quiet, struck by his assumption that her mention of divorce was merely a plea for attention. Her silence tightened the air between them. "Don't become someone I resent, Sophia," he said with a frown, his voice low. A faint, bitter smile touched her lips as she turned toward the window, shutting him out completely. Sensing he had pushed too far, Lucas eased his tone. "I had your things moved back to our room. If you want to stay with me, just say so. There's no need for all this." Sophia was left speechless. ***** As the car came to a stop in the courtyard of Nightfall Estate, Sophia stepped out. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the cherry blossom grove in the garden. The sight sent a sharp pang through her chest. She forced her gaze away and continued into the villa. Inside, the decor had been completely redone. The new style, with its unmistakable resemblance to the Evans residence, clearly revealed who had overseen the renovations. She moved through rooms that felt entirely alien to her now, but she kept her thoughts to herself since this was no longer her home. Wendy looked surprised when she saw Sophia. "Mrs. Westwood, you've returned. Have you had your supper?" Sinking into the plush pink sofa, Sophia answered quietly, "Yes, thank you." Wendy offered a tight smile before retreating to her quarters to make a hurried phone call to Helen, reporting the unexpected arrival. Helen had never approved of Sophia, whom she saw as a plain nobody not good enough for her son. The infertility diagnosis hardened Helen's resolve to rush the divorce so Lucas could marry someone worthy of giving her grandchildren. The news of Sophia's sudden return after her dramatic departure kept Helen tossing and turning all night. Lucas had been certain Sophia would confront him about the complete makeover of their home. He stood ready to smooth things over, but she walked through the rooms without comment, her silence leaving him more unsettled than any argument would have. "If the decor isn't to your taste..." Lucas moved to sit beside her, his arms beginning to encircle her. Sophia reached for a throw pillow, tucking it between them as she shifted away from his embrace. The gentle rejection stung, though Lucas reassured himself that this was the same woman who had always adored him. "It's true. I prefer my original choices," she said calmly. "Can you have everything returned to how it was?" The warm, elegant furnishings had vanished, replaced by the overwhelming pinks that Emily favored—a transformation that had turned their home into something resembling a kitschy boutique hotel. Lucas shifted uncomfortably. "Let's not make a big deal out of it. You'll get used to the way things are around here." A faint, knowing smile curved on Sophia's lips as she met his gaze. That smile never failed to get under his skin. "Try to see it from her perspective, Sophia," he said, his voice tightening. "After everything she's been through these past three years, all Emily wants is to feel like she belongs." A wave of exhaustion washed over her. It was like talking to a brick wall. "I know," she said flatly. "You have your entire family backing you up," Lucas shot back, his patience clearly wearing thin. "But Emily? She has nobody else. Is it really so hard for you to be a little more compassionate?" "Funny," Sophia replied, her tone icy. "I was under the impression my adoptive parents were still very much alive." Besides, the Evans family had never once ceased to think about Emily throughout those three years. They made trip after trip to Felarica to celebrate Emily's birthdays and attend her parties. They even missed Sophia's wedding to Lucas because of her. A single social media post from Emily, complaining of her loneliness in Felarica, was all it took for them to drop everything and fly to her side. "Now that you've made it out of that dead-end town, you should be the last person to let Emily sink into it," he shot back. As Sophia looked at him, the last glimmer of hope in her eyes vanished. She knew well enough to stop mentioning divorce. To Lucas, it was just another act—proof that she was the same desperate woman the world thought her to be. If she couldn't get through to Lucas, she was going to find another path. Now, with her infertility diagnosis, she knew Helen would be far more impatient to act on this news. Sophia retreated to the master bedroom. Her possessions had claimed their space, with her clothes occupying half of the vast closet. A sense of normalcy had finally settled between her and Lucas, the kind that belongs to a husband and wife. But it was a fragile peace, already beginning to fray. Lucas was still in the living room when Emily returned. The air around her carried the sharp tang of liquor. Her face was deeply flushed, and she swayed slightly as she walked. He was at her side in an instant, his hand gently steadying her. "You've had far too much to drink," he murmured, his brow furrowed with worry. "This isn't good for you. I don't want to see you like this again." Emily turned into him, her arms finding their way around his neck. "I couldn't help it," she whispered, her voice thick with drink and emotion. "It's the only thing that dulls the ache." Sensing her legs might give way, he simply gathered her into his arms. "Wendy," he said to the housekeeper who had appeared, heading for the stairs. "Would you bring up some electrolyte water for Emily?" "Understood," Wendy replied. Playing the part of the drunken mess, Emily clung to Lucas and sobbed into his chest. "I've always regretted it," she cried. "Letting my pride push you away was the biggest mistake of my life." A long-buried tenderness tugged at Lucas's heart. "Let's try again, Lucas. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice," she whispered, tilting her face up to his. Just as their lips were about to meet, the master bedroom door swung open, and the sudden movement startled the couple in the hallway. Sophia stood in the doorway in her pajamas, watching them with a completely expressionless face. Lucas instantly snapped back to reality, and a rare look of panic flashed across his handsome face. "Sophie, Emily is drunk," he said quickly. "I'm just taking her back to her room." Still draped around him, Emily met Sophia's eyes over Lucas's shoulder. The tears were gone, replaced by a cool, triumphant smirk that held no trace of intoxication. Sophia's mouth curved into a humorless smile as she replied, "Yes, and you're drunk too." Without another word, she stepped back and slammed the door, the turn of the lock echoing decisively behind her. The idea of sleeping next to Lucas made her blood boil. She honestly didn't trust herself to lie beside him all night without her rage getting the better of her. Chapter 8 Divorce Settlement The next morning, as Sophia left her room, the guest room door across the hall opened at the exact same time. Lucas was stepping out, finishing with his tie. He glanced up and went completely still, finding Sophia already watching him from their bedroom doorway. Surprise flashed across his face, and he started with an explanation. "She was a mess last night," he said, his voice low. "I couldn't just leave her." Sophia's eyes dropped to the bright red smudge on his collar. Her eyes were filled with silent scorn as she thought about how filthy it was. She said with icy calm, "Relax, I know perfectly well that nothing would ever happen between you two, even when you don't have a stitch of clothing on." Her words cut off whatever excuse Lucas was about to offer. Anger darkened his features. "Think what you want," he snapped. "My feelings for her are purely brotherly." Sophia's eyes fell to the lipstick stain on his collar again. "So, how does it feel to be so close to your 'sister'?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Following her line of sight, Lucas saw the evidence, and a shadow of guilt crossed his face. "It was an accident," he insisted, his voice tight. "Don't make it sound so sordid." "So filthy," she murmured, shaking her head. As he drew a sharp breath to retaliate, she added with a cold smile, "I mean your shirt." He stared at her, his expression turning to stone. She merely offered a careless shrug and walked away, leaving him fuming in the hallway. Downstairs, Sophia was halfway through her breakfast when her phone vibrated on the table. A quick glance at the screen confirmed it was Helen calling. Just then, Wendy appeared with two additional breakfast plates. Sophia swiped to answer the call, a deliberate smile directed at Wendy. "You're calling so early, Mrs. Westwood." The pointed smile made Wendy's blood run cold, and at the mention of Mrs. Westwood, she was reminded of betraying Sophia by reporting to Helen last night. Stricken with guilt, she almost fumbled the tray. She dropped the plates onto the table and hastily retreated to the safety of the kitchen. A faint, cold smile touched Sophia's lips as Helen's venomous voice filled her ear. "Utterly devoid of manners," Helen sneered. "What else can you expect from someone with such a common background?" Sophia's eyes turned to ice. "Trace any lineage back three generations, Mrs. Westwood, and you'll find humble roots. It's distasteful to scorn your own origins." Helen found herself at a loss for words. Though Lucas's parents both had city roots, his grandparents' generation had all struggled in a backwater. Helen's parents had even lived in a cowshed. So in that regard, Helen was no better than Sophia. "That sharp tongue of yours is exactly why people can't stand you," Helen shot back. Sophia rolled her eyes in contempt. Biting back her anger, Helen forced a calmer tone. "We need to meet. There's a document for you to sign." "What kind of document?" "It'll be clear when you get here." Letting the matter drop, Sophia hung up. As she did, she saw Lucas descending the staircase. He had showered and changed, his hair perfectly styled like a model from the pages of a magazine. She had to admit, he was pleasing to look at. 'With those looks, he certainly has the assets for a career as a gigolo,' Sophia thought wryly. A smug feeling warmed Lucas as her eyes stayed on him. He drew out the chair next to hers and sat down. "Paliston Fashion Week is just around the corner," he offered. "It'll be a good chance for us to get away." In three years of marriage, it was the first time he had ever proposed such a thing. Sophia acknowledged him with a quiet hum, but she felt no spark of happiness or expectation. She saw the offer for what it was—a peace offering, born of the guilt he carried after his betrayal. Her ride showed up shortly after breakfast. Picking up her bag, Sophia walked out the door.