Rise Above The Betrayal

Chapter 1 Exhausting Obsession

Griffin Stewart raised his glass high, his commanding voice cutting through the lively chatter of the banquet hall. "Thank you all for taking the time to celebrate my daughter Chloe's birthday with us," he said, his tone brimming with pride. " I also have an important announcement to share."

"My daughter, Chloe, the true heiress of this family, has officially returned to us."

Under the spotlight at the heart of the extravagant ballroom, Chloe stood on a raised platform wearing a dazzling mermaid gown that sparkled with every movement.

The dress hugged her curves perfectly, and a luxurious crown rested atop her styled hair. With a radiant smile, she stood between Griffin and Felicity Stewart, like a spoiled princess.

Her gaze swept across the room, finally settling on a lone figure in the furthest corner—a figure that seemed out of place amidst the opulence.

Chloe's red lips curled into a faint, mocking smirk, a flicker of challenge sparking in her eyes.

The guests, still buzzing with excitement over Griffin's announcement, followed her gaze.

In the shadows stood a young woman dressed in an unremarkable gray hoodie, her hands buried in its pockets. Her expression was calm, almost indifferent, as she watched the glittering spectacle on the stage.

Even in the dim lighting designed to enhance Chloe's grandeur, the girl's striking beauty was impossible to ignore.

Her pale, flawless skin seemed to glow, and her delicate features carried an otherworldly elegance.

She wore no makeup, and her plain attire made her look entirely unprepared for the evening. Yet somehow, she radiated a natural allure that outshone Chloe, despite Chloe's meticulously crafted perfection.

Her beauty was the kind that would turn heads in any crowd—unmistakable, unforgettable.

But unfortunately...

She was Sophia, the Stewart Family's discarded "fake" heiress.

Her reputation was far from ideal.

Gossip had painted a harsh picture: years ago, Sophia's biological mother—a woman from the slums—had schemed to swap her newborn with Chloe. For twenty years, Sophia lived a life that wasn't hers, occupying a place meant for someone else.

When the truth came out, so did a flood of harsh judgments. People said Sophia's "slum-bred genes" explained why she never fit in with the Stewarts. She was rumored to be rebellious, a constant source of trouble.

Eventually, the family had sent her to the countryside in a desperate attempt to reform her.

Three years ago, in what some called a moment of misplaced pity, the Stewarts brought her back.

But time hadn't bridged the gap. Sophia still felt like a black sheep.

Decades of countryside life didn't seem enough to set her straight.

Things only worsened when her obsession with Ethan Baker, the heir of the Baker Family, became public knowledge.

The Stewarts and Bakers had a longstanding engagement arrangement, but Sophia's blatant, obsessive pursuit of Ethan had humiliated her family. She clung to him, ignoring his disdain and the shame it brought her.

People shook their heads in pity. What a waste of a pretty face, and a decent reputation.

Tonight's grand banquet was the ultimate statement: Chloe had returned, and the Stewarts had their rightful daughter.

Sophia's place had been erased entirely.

Without the tittle behind her, Sophia wouldn't even have a chance to grovel at Ethan's feet.

Just then, a guy stepped onto the stage.

He was tall and striking, his tailored white suit highlighting his broad shoulders and refined demeanor.

His faint, polite smile radiated confidence as he moved to stand beside Chloe. Together, they looked like the perfect pair, their chemistry undeniable—like a couple moments away from saying "I do."

The man was Ethan Baker, heir to the Baker family.

He's also the man Sophia had been hopelessly in love with for years.

A charged silence swept through the ballroom. Guests exchanged glances, their curiosity piqued. The stage was set for drama.

Ethan standing proudly beside Chloe, the true Stewart Family daughter? Now that was a spectacle no one wanted to miss.

Under the spotlight, Chloe's bashful smile brightened as Ethan took her hand, lifting it slowly to reveal matching diamond rings on their fingers.

The meaning was crystal clear.

Gasps of surprise rippled through the crowd, followed by a swell of cheers and applause. "Congratulations!" echoed from every corner, though not all the glances were kind. Many were laced with mockery, eyes darting toward Sophia, who stood alone in the shadows.

For three years, the so-called "fake" heiress had shamelessly pursued Ethan, only to be ignored. Yet Chloe, the rightful daughter, had effortlessly claimed his heart—and now his promise.

A counterfeit could never compete with the real thing.

As whispers and sidelong smirks multiplied around her, Sophia's expression remained calm, her face a mask of indifference.

Her cool, unbothered gaze lingered on the stage, taking in the harmonious picture of the Stewart Family united.

They truly looked so happy.

She'd always wondered why her efforts never earned even the smallest sign of approval from Griffin or Felicity Stewart.

When they gazed at Chloe, however, their eyes were always full of love and indulgence.

Now Sophia understood. It wasn't that they didn't know how to love—it was simply that their love wasn't meant for her.

To them, Sophia would always be an outsider. There was a gap she could never bridge.

The realization had stopped hurting long ago. Sophia'd grown numb to their coldness.

Tonight was no different; her heart was steady, unshaken by the grand display before her.

Moreover, her years of effort seemed meaningless now.

A flicker of emotion passed through her eyes—an unspoken ache—before her long lashes swept downward, hiding whatever might betray her.

Chloe noticed it immediately. To her, that fleeting moment confirmed what she wanted to believe: Sophia was heartbroken over Ethan.

Smug satisfaction bubbled within Chloe, though she masked it with an expression of concern. Her voice, gentle and sweet, rang out clearly, drawing the room's attention. "Sophia, Ethan and I are together now. You're not upset, are you?"

Her words were wrapped in feigned kindness, but the underlying intent was sharp.

It was a classic Chloe move—soft on the surface, cutting beneath.

"Chloe." Ethan's voice broke in, cool and commanding. "I don't need her permission to be with you." He turned to Sophia, his lips curling into a cold, condescending smile. "She's just a desperate stray dog chasing after her disowner."

"Ethan, please don't be mean to her." Chloe's voice was syrupy sweet as she lightly tugged his arm, pretending to scold him. "She... she did like you for so long. You're upsetting her."

Ethan laughed, a low, mocking sound. He pulled Chloe closer, his protective posture a clear display of where his allegiance lay. His gaze met Sophia's, sharp and unyielding. "Let's end this nonsense right here, right now," he said, his tone icy and detached.

Then his cruelty continued. "Sophia, I never liked you. Not once.

"The engagement was always meant to be with Chloe, the Stewart Family's real daughter. You're nothing but a fraud—a pathetic girl who stole someone else's place.

"Do me a favor and stop embarrassing yourself. Honestly, your obsession is exhausting."

The words were a dagger, cutting deep. And in front of such a prominent audience, they were meant to humiliate.

Chloe's lips twitched into a triumphant smirk, though she quickly masked it with an air of concern. "Ethan, that's too harsh! Look at her face... She's mad."

The snide laughter of Ethan's friends quickly followed. "Angry? Please." One of them sneered. "Relax, Chloe. Sophia wouldn't dare."

Another chimed in with a smirk. "She's too desperate to let something like this stop her. Didn't she keep chasing Ethan even after he said worse things before?"

"Exactly!" A third friend snorted. "Everyone knows Sophia Steward has no shame. The more you insult her, the harder she clings."

The cruel remarks and laughter echoed like a symphony of ridicule.

Sophia became the room's unspoken punchline.

Standing off to the side, Felicity's face darkened with rage. Her eyes blazed with contempt as they landed on Sophia, the source of her ire.

How dare this worthless girl bring such disgrace to their family—again, on Chloe's special night, no less!

Felicity clenched her fists, convinced that Sophia was causing this scene on purpose, trying to ruin Chloe's moment in the spotlight.

Chapter 2 No Longer A Steward

Felicity's stern expression melted into warmth as she turned to Chloe, gently taking her hand. Her voice was drenched in affection, each word meant to comfort and reaffirm. "Chloe, don't feel guilty. Everything she has—everything she ever had—she stole from you. You're the one who deserved this life. You're the one who had to suffer so much out there while she lived comfortably, basking in what was never hers. She owes you all this."

Her gaze shifted, hardening as it landed on Sophia. Her voice grew sharp, and cold. "Sophia, if you had been humble and well-behaved, perhaps we could have kept you around as a second daughter. But every time I see you, I'm reminded of the years I wasted treating you like a treasure, unaware that my real daughter was out there, struggling to survive. That is something I can never forgive."

Felicity paused, letting her words cut deep before adding, "Besides, your real family has already come to claim you. They may be from the slums, but they are your blood. Don't think you can keep clinging to us, pretending you belong here. We've been more than generous in raising you all these years."

Griffin stepped beside her, placing a calming hand on Felicity's arm. His eyes swept across the crowd, gauging their reactions, before turning to Sophia. "Sophia, even though you're not our biological daughter, we've shared many years under the same roof. If you ever need help in the future, I'll see what I can do for you." He paused meaningfully, then glanced at Chloe with a small, approving smile.

Chloe stepped forward gracefully, lifting the hem of her gown to take a champagne glass from a passing server. Her movements radiated sophistication, and her sparkling outfit drew all eyes room.

"Sophia," Chloe said softly, her tone laced with mock kindness, "here's thirty thousand dollars. Dad prepared this just for you. It's not much, but it should help if your family back in the slums gets... well..."

She trailed off with a knowing smile, leaving her meaning hanging in the air. She handed Sophia the card, the smirk on her lips growing.

Then, raising her champagne glass, Chloe added, "Sophia, even though you don't want to go back where you come from, and we hate to see you go, we can't selfishly keep you here at the expense of your family. They're your blood, after all. Don't you agree?"

Every word hinted at the same message: Sophia was a shallow opportunist who refused to return to her humble roots, while her family from the slums were parasites.

It painted the Stewarts as noble and principled while casting Sophia in the worst possible light.

Chloe basked in the chaos she'd stirred, her satisfaction almost palpable. Whispers rippled through the crowd, their gazes filled with pity, disdain, or cold judgment, all trained on Sophia.

Tonight was her night to destroy Sophia's reputation, to ensure she'd never set foot in Virelia City's high society again.

A glint of malice flickered in Chloe's eyes as her lips curled into a calculated smile.

Without warning, she stumbled forward, her champagne glass tilting ominously. The liquid arced through the air, aimed squarely at Sophia's face.

"Argh!"

A sharp cry pierced the room.

Every guest froze in shock.

But before the champagne could land, Sophia moved with startling precision. Her slender, pale hand shot out, gripping Chloe's wrist mid-swing.

Despite its delicate appearance, Sophia's hand held Chloe in an iron grip, unmoving no matter how hard Chloe struggled.

In her frantic attempts to break free, Chloe's movements only caused the champagne to splash back onto herself, soaking her exquisite gown.

The room watched in stunned silence as Chloe's face twisted in pain and frustration, her carefully maintained composure crumbling. Even her layers of flawless makeup couldn't hide the contorted expression of anger and humiliation.

Felicity's commanding voice rang out from the stage as she descended the steps in a flurry. "Sophia, let go this instant!" she demanded, her tone filled with fury.

"Heh." A low, disdainful chuckle slipped from Sophia's lips.

Sophia's calm, indifferent gaze lifted to meet Felicity's, carrying a casual contempt that cut deeper than words.

Unrestrained defiance glimmered in her eyes, a stark contrast to the timid, submissive girl she once was.

The transformation wasn't lost on Chloe, who stood frozen nearby. An icy shiver crawled up her spine, and a strange, unexplainable fear began to bloom within her.

"Arghhh!" There came another scream.

Chloe's scream shattered the tense silence as Sophia yanked her forward with startling force.

With one decisive motion, Sophia's hand pressed against Chloe's head, shoving her straight into the champagne tower.

The cascading tower collapsed in an explosion of glass and champagne, crashing onto the floor in a glittering, chaotic mess.

Champagne soaked Chloe's once-pristine white gown as she sprawled amid the wreckage, her dignity as shattered as the glass surrounding her.

"Sophia Steward, are you out of your mind?" Felicity's scream rang out as she rushed toward them, her fury uncontainable.

She raised her hand, aiming a slap at Sophia's face.

But her wrist was stopped mid-air, effortlessly caught by Sophia's steady grip.

"It's Sophia Roscente now," Sophia said coldly, her voice laced with steel.

Her gaze bore into Felicity, silencing the entire room. "As you wished, from this moment forward, I have nothing more to do with the Stewart Family."

She shoved Felicity's hand away with a dismissive flick, her disdain palpable. Without sparing anyone a second glance, Sophia tucked her hands into her hoodie pockets and strode toward the exit.

Behind her, Felicity's voice rose into a shriek, cracking under the weight of her anger. "Sophia, you ungrateful wretch. You're nothing but a cheap imposter! Just scram, and if you ever dare crawl back to us, I'll make you regret it!"

Ethan rushed to Chloe's side, kneeling to help her up and cradling her protectively in his arms. Yet, despite his proximity to Chloe, his gaze drifted involuntarily toward Sophia.

Sophia didn't falter. Her pace remained steady, exuding an unbothered confidence that made Ethan feel hollow inside.

Sophia didn't even glance back at him.

A strange irritation stirred in Ethan's chest, simmering just beneath the surface.

'Is this all just another calculated scheme?' Ethan wondered, 'Another one of Sophia's ploys to draw attention to herself?'

He tightened his hold on Chloe, pulling her closer, as if shielding her from the fallout. His voice rang out across the room, sharp with disdain. "Sophia, you think you can get my attention by hurting Chloe?

"You venomous woman. You disgust me!"

Sophia, however, didn't flinch, didn't falter. Her stride remained steady, each step measured and deliberate. The quiet confidence in her movements, the unwavering calm in her departure, made Ethan's words feel weightless, as if they'd vanished into thin air.

*****

Outside the glittering opulence of the Century Crown Hotel, a sleek black car idled by the curb. The vehicle blended into the shadows, its polished exterior reflecting the city lights like a dark mirror.

Inside, a man reclined lazily against the seatback. His crisp black shirt fit perfectly over his broad shoulders, emphasizing his lean, powerful frame. His long legs stretched out comfortably, and the subtle indifference in his demeanor made the confined space feel heavy with unspoken authority.

His slender, jade-like fingers tapped rhythmically against the edge of the car window, the sound blending seamlessly with the faint hum of the city outside.

The man's silent, commanding presence seemed to draw the walls of the car inward, until the very air felt thin and heavy.

In the driver's seat, Gary Tomlins glanced nervously at the rearview mirror, swallowing hard before speaking.

"Tristan, I swear, the target is definitely in there!" His voice carried a mixture of pride and urgency as he twisted around to face the man in the backseat.

Thumping his chest, he continued, "The system I built is flawless! That elusive miracle doctor from the Shadow Clan—the one who's always impossible to track—is absolutely at the Stewart Family's party tonight!"

He gestured excitedly toward the car's electronic display. "See this? My advanced tech has given us a complete view of the party. No blind spots. I'll pinpoint exactly who the person is in no time!"

On the screen, a live feed from the Stewart banquet played, showing every corner of the grand hall.

Amid the glittering crowd, a lone person cloaked in a gray hoodie strode steadily out of the chaos, hands buried in her pockets.

Tristan Yeats' sparkling eyes narrowed the moment the person came into view. The faint reflection of his chiseled features shimmered against the car window, illuminated by the dazzling city lights. His striking, otherworldly face seemed carved from stone, a flawless Greek masterpiece that radiated power and magnetism.

Chapter 3 A Butler From The Slums

Tristan's eyes tracked Sophia like a predator watching its prey, staying fixed on her until she vanished from the screen.

Then, without warning, the corner of his lips lifted, and a low, warm chuckle escaped him.

The warm chuckle, however, sent a chill down Gary's spine. His hand, still pointing at the screen, trembled slightly.

Gary glanced around nervously, worried that Tristan might lash out at him for any perceived mistake.

Gary's attention shifted abruptly when he noticed something outside the hotel. His eyes lit up with a mix of surprise and excitement. "Hey! Isn't that the Stewart family's fake heiress?" he exclaimed.

Eager to change the topic, Gary leaned closer, trying to appear casual. "She really stood out at the party earlier! Definitely doesn't seem like someone who grew up in the countryside."

Tristan's aloof eyes flicked toward Gary, his demeanor as relaxed as it was intimidating. He glanced in the direction Gary had indicated, seemingly indifferent at first.

However, a subtle shift occurred when his gaze landed on the slender figure outside. His dark, shimmering eyes sharpened, brimming with an intensity that was impossible to ignore.

Sensing Tristan's interest, Gary grew bolder, spilling the gossip he'd heard. "People say her real family is dirt poor, practically living in the slums. And get this—there's a rumor she's obsessed with that Baker dude."Supposedly, she's so desperate for him she'd do anything. They say if he told her to bark like a dog, she'd actually do it. Acting bold and independent now? "Please, it's only a matter of time before she drops the act and grovels back."

The moment those words left his mouth, Gary realized his mistake.

The air grew cold, a heavy silence filling the space.

Gary's skin prickled with goosebumps as if the temperature had suddenly dropped. He froze, barely daring to move or breathe.

Tristan's eyes, usually calm and brilliant, darkened with a menacing shadow. His sharp gaze was like a blade, cutting through the tense air.

Gary's throat went dry, his voice trapped as Tristan's oppressive vibe bore down on him.

"She'd never come back," Tristan said, his tone icy and restrained. "She's done with them."

Tristan's eyes followed Sophia as she stepped out of the hotel.

She walked with effortless grace, one hand tucked into her pocket and the other holding her phone. Her stride was slow and confident. Her pale, refined profile carried an air of cool detachment, and her starry eyes were calm, revealing nothing.

It was as if the events at the banquet hadn't touched her at all.

This was the Sophia Tristan remembered.

Tristan's expression grew even darker, his thoughts impossible to read.

Gary, still frozen, stared at Tristan in shock. His jaw slackened as realization struck.

Gary swallowed hard in tense.

'Am I hearing it wrong? "he thought to himself.

'Tristan—the untouchable, composed Tristan—is paying attention to a woman?'

He had only mentioned the Stewart family's "fake heiress" to change the subject. He never expected such a reaction.

Worse still, he had insulted her connection to the Baker family dude. And instead of addressing that, Tristan had focused on her ties to the Stewarts.

Something clicked in Gary's mind, and a wave of unease swept over him.

He knew something unusual was happening.

In the silence, Sophia seemed to notice them.

Standing at the hotel entrance, she lifted her head from her phone.

Her gaze, sharp and unflinching, crossed the distance and met Tristan's.

Their eyes locked, and the air between them seemed to hum. The silence stretched for several tense seconds.

Tristan's body visibly tensed as his sharp features betrayed a flicker of something unusual—nervousness, perhaps.

He straightened in his seat almost reflexively, then, as if forcing himself into action, offered Sophia a faint smile.

Under the pale moonlight, his smile carried a magnetic charm, dangerous and almost unreal.

But to Sophia, it felt... off. She raised a single brow, her cool, bright eyes flickering with mild confusion.

'The man's undeniably handsome, but that smile? It creeps me out,' she commented, silently.

'What a waste of such an attractive face,' Sophia thought, though her expression remained unreadable.

Before she could ponder it further, the smooth hum of an approaching car interrupted her thoughts.

A sleek black car pulled up in front of her, and an old man came out, dressed impeccably in a tailored black uniform. The man stepped forward and bowed slightly. "Miss Sophia Foster," he greeted, his voice carrying a distinct British accent. "I am Walter, your butler. I've come to escort you home. Your father and your six siblings are eagerly awaiting your arrival."

His refined demeanor and calm steps spoke of years of experience. He carried himself with a quiet authority that made his role clear even before he spoke.

His words caught Sophia off guard. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied him, looking for any sign of deception.

Walter's tone was steady, his expression warm yet professional. There was no hint of insincerity.

But something felt off. Sophia's mind snagged on the detail that had been circulating about her real family—weren't they supposed to be living in poverty?

A family supposedly from the slums having a butler? One so polished, no less? It didn't add up.

Her suspicion flared. Was this some elaborate setup? A prank? Perhaps another attempt to embarrass her, orchestrated by someone hoping to drag her down.

"Sophia," a familiar, sugary voice called out from behind.

Sophia turned her head slightly to see Chloe, leaning heavily against Ethan's chest. Chloe's entire posture was exaggerated, as though she couldn't stand on her own without his support. Her dress clung to her awkwardly, the scent of champagne and theatrics radiating from her. Ethan, ever the doting boyfriend, held her securely, his expression soft as though she were the most delicate thing in the world.

Chloe's voice carried that calculated blend of concern and mockery she had perfected. "I grew up in the Foster family, and I've never heard of a butler named Walter," she said, tilting her head. Her lips curved into a saccharine smile as her gaze flitted to Walter. "Sir, I'm sure Sophia must have hired you. She's always been so concerned with appearances. But let's drop the act here—Sophia isn't part of the Stewart family anymore. Her life will be... challenging from now on." Chloe's tone turned pitying. "Tell me, how much is she paying you? I can settle the amount for her. It's no trouble."

Her words were carefully aimed to humiliate. The implication that Sophia had resorted to hiring someone to maintain a facade was sharp and public, meant to drive a wedge of shame.

Ethan glanced at Sophia, his brows furrowing with disdain. "Sophia, this is pathetic," he said coldly. "You can't compare to Chloe. You never could."

He pulled Chloe closer, his protective grip more for show than comfort. "Why should anyone waste money on you? If you want to put on a show, pay for it yourself."

"But, Ethan," Chloe murmured, biting her lip and casting a conflicted look at Sophia. "She's still—"

Before she could finish, Walter stepped forward, cutting her off with a calm but pointed tone. His gaze, while polite, carried an edge that made Chloe stiffen. "Miss Stewart," he said evenly, "just because you've never met the Foster family's butler doesn't mean the Foster family doesn't have one. Perhaps..." He let the words hang in the air, his smile faint but firm, "it's simply that you're not qualified to know."

Chloe's face turned crimson. Her façade of sweetness cracked, revealing the anger beneath.

"You're saying I'm not qualified?" she muttered, her hands curling into fists.

Her voice was low, but the sting in her words was palpable. "The Foster family isn't exactly a mystery. Anyone with half a brain can see through them."

Chloe was utterly convinced that Walter was playing along in what she believed to be Sophia's poorly staged charade.

Walter, however, didn't spare her another glance. Maintaining his composed demeanor, he turned back to Sophia and gave a respectful bow. "Miss Foster," he said evenly, "it happens that the Stewart family is hosting their banquet here tonight. Mr. Foster specifically instructed me to prepare gifts as an expression of gratitude for the Stewart family's many years of care in raising you."

With that, Walter walked to the back of the car, opened the trunk. He retrieved two large burlap sacks—plain, coarse, and unmistakably the kind used for storing grain.

The sight was jarring. Walter, the epitome of refinement in his tailored suit and polished shoes, hauling two rough, worn sacks over his shoulders like a farmer in the fields. The scene was so absurd that a few people nearby couldn't help laughing.

Chloe's lips twitched as she took in the scene. A flicker of disbelief crossed her face before it melted into sheer delight.

She struggled to suppress a grin but failed.

'Finally', Chloe thought, 'Sophia's true colors are on display.'

The last time Chloe had seen burlap sacks was a distant memory, tied to a life she'd long since left behind.

She had vowed never to encounter such a thing again, let alone at an event as grand as this.

The sacks were stuffed with wild grasses, messily plucked, their roots still coated with clumps of dirt.

She scoffed under her breath, her voice dripping with disdain. 'If I stare at those sacks any longer, the filth might just burn my eyes.'

Chapter 4 His Target All Along

Chloe feigned concern, her lips curling into an exaggerated, hesitant smile. "Sophia, thank you for the thoughtful gesture, but we really don't need these gifts. Besides, who knows if these things from the countryside aren't hazardous? You should take them back."

Sophia's expression turned cold, her patience thin. "Didn't you grow up eating food from the slums? Funny how none of it ever killed you."

Chloe's face drained of color, the sharp retort hitting a nerve. Memories of her less-than-glamorous origins clawed their way to the surface, and shame flashed across her face before anger took over.

Her fists clenched, her eyes reddening as she tried to muster a response. "I was just trying to help," she stammered, her voice trembling with a calculated mix of hurt and indignation. "I just didn't want Mom to get upset with you for this kind of... gesture. How could you—"

"Stop." Sophia's voice cut through Chloe's attempt at manipulation. "She's YOUR mom, not mine. I have nothing to do with you guys anymore."

Chloe bit her lip, forcing herself to look pitiful, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"Well, aren't you bold now," Ethan interjected with a sneer, tightening his hold on Chloe's waist. His expression was filled with disdain as he glared at Sophia. "If you're going to leave, then leave already. You're just embarrassing yourself here."

He was convinced this scene was another ploy to draw his attention.

The thought disgusted him.

Walter, standing nearby, clenched his jaw. His usually composed expression was darkening. He briefly considered dumping the sacks onto Ethan's arrogant face but restrained himself out of respect for Sophia.

Before Walter could speak, Sophia touched his arm lightly, signaling him to let it go.

She grabbed the sacks from him and tossed them back into the trunk without hesitation. "I don't owe the Stewart family anything. No thanks necessary."

With a sharp slam of the trunk, she climbed into the car and motioned to Walter. "Let's go."

Walter gave Ethan and Chloe one final glance, his polite demeanor intact but his eyes sharp as daggers. Without a word, he slipped into the driver's seat, started the engine, and drove away, leaving the pair in a cloud of dust.

Ethan waved the exhaust fumes from his face, his expression twisting into a scowl. "Let's see how long she can keep up that tough act," he muttered bitterly.

Something about Sophia's reaction unsettled him. She no longer clung to him or endured his insults with quiet persistence. Instead, she had walked away without hesitation, without even sparing him a glance.

The realization irritated him in ways he couldn't explain. His mood soured further, and his words turned sharper. "Bringing wild grass and dirt to the Stewart family as a thank-you gift? Typical of someone so low-class. Chloe, stay away from lowlife trash like her."

Hearing Ethan's biting remarks, Chloe's heart soared with satisfaction. She masked her glee with a troubled expression, lowering her eyes. "But... she's my sister... after all."

Ethan pulled his hand away abruptly and stormed back toward the hotel.

Left behind, Chloe felt no anger at his sudden departure. On the contrary, she reveled in it.

She could barely contain the triumphant smile threatening to break across her face.

The more Ethan despised Sophia, the better.

One day, Sophia would be erased entirely from Ethan's life.

On that day, Chloe's position would be secure, her world untouchable.

Her heels clicked confidently against the pavement as she hurried to catch up to Ethan, her steps light with triumph.

*****

Meanwhile, in a sleek black car parked discreetly nearby, Gary leaned back lazily, one hand propping up his chin.

He clicked his tongue, clearly amused. "Tristan, did you see what was in those sacks? That's some top-tier medicinal herbs. Rare stuff. Really rare."

Tristan didn't respond, his intense gaze fixed on Sophia's car as it disappeared into the distance. After it vanished completely, he lowered his eyes, his expression calm but unreadable.

The truth was clear—those sacks weren't just filled with random plants or cheap gifts. They contained rare medicinal herbs that were so valuable that even Tristan's family needed significant influence to obtain them.

The supposed "fake" heiress of the Stewart family, rumored to have grown up in the slums, clearly wasn't what everyone thought she was.

"Seriously, Chloe must be blind," Gary remarked with a mocking laugh. "If her family knew what kind of thank-you gift she just turned down, they'd beg Sophia to give it back. I'd pay to see that scene."

"Let's go," Tristan said, his tone calm as he leaned back against the seat.

His eyes returned to their normal unreadable darkness.

Gary raised an eyebrow, surprised by the sudden shift. "Giving up on finding that doctor already?"

A faint smile played on Tristan's lips, cold and enigmatic.

From the start, the doctor hadn't been his only goal.

What Tristan truly wanted was to witness Sophia sever all ties with the Stewart family—and with Ethan Baker.

Now, he had seen it happen with his own eyes. That was enough.

Closing his eyes, Tristan's smooth, magnetic voice echoed faintly in the car, laced with a subtle, icy elegance. "It seems the doctor has no interest in the Stewart family."

*****

In another car, Walter's gaze flicked toward the rearview mirror, where Sophia sat in the backseat.

Her head was lowered as her slender fingers tapped rhythmically on her phone screen. Her expression remained calm, detached, as though the earlier confrontation had left no mark on her at all.

Walter couldn't help feeling a pang of regret. 'How much has she gone through while living with the Stewart Family? Her indifference toward them seemed almost too effortless, as though it has been forged through years of resilience.'

Softening his voice, Walter said, "Miss Roscente, I must apologize. If only we had found you sooner, you wouldn't have had to go through so much with the Stewart Family."

Sophia paused in her movements. Her fingers brushed lightly against the phone's screen before she turned it off and slipped it into her pocket. Her tone was measured but unconcerned. "It's fine. Better late than never."

After a brief silence, she asked, "Chloe's been with the Roscente Family for, what, twenty years? How come she doesn't know you?"

Walter replied smoothly, as if seeing the question coming. "Miss Roscente, I've already explained this. According to the Roscente family's rules, that Miss Stewart... isn't qualified to meet me. That's why she doesn't know who I am."

Sophia raised an eyebrow, an amused smile tugging at her lips. Her eyes gleamed faintly, a mix of intrigue and skepticism.

'Rules?' she thought. 'The Roscente family is supposed to be a poor, slum-dwelling family, according to Chloe. Since when do families like that have qualifications or rules for who can meet whom?'

'And he said I have six siblings? How could a supposedly impoverished family afford to raise that many children?'

Her thoughts turned to Walter's earlier actions—the way he had hauled two burlap sacks filled with priceless medicinal herbs as if they were mere trifles.

The puzzle pieces didn't fit.

Walter seemed to sense her lingering doubt and quickly added, "Miss Roscente, please don't worry. You won't be required to undergo the family's customary test. Since you've returned so late, you'll be allowed to enter the main house directly."

He paused, his voice taking on a note of quiet pride. "That said, whether you can stay in the main house will depend on your abilities. But from what I can see, Miss Roscente, you're far more capable than that Miss Stewart. I have no doubt you'll succeed."

Sophia's brows arched slightly as his words sank in. 'Test? Main house?'

None of this sounded remotely like the life of a struggling family living in the slums.

Sophia leaned back in her seat, a faint glimmer of curiosity flashing in her eyes.

The more she heard, the less the Roscente family resembled the pitiful image Chloe had painted.

The car sped smoothly along the road, its tires humming against the pavement. After a sharp turn, it transitioned into a grand avenue lined with perfectly manicured trees and ornate streetlights.

Sophia shifted her gaze to the window, watching as the towering skyscrapers of the city center gave way to sprawling estates.

Each property boasted a distinct architectural style, from sleek modern designs to grandiose classical mansions.

Sophia narrowed her eyes, her mind stirring with a faint sense of recognition.

She knew this place. She had read about it in countless newspapers and magazines, always mentioned in the same breath as the most influential figures in Virelia. Yet, she had never imagined she would see it for herself, let alone be driven through its gates.

This was the Virelia Supreme.

The name alone carried weight. Being the most exclusive residential district in the city, Virelia Supreme wasn't just a display of immense wealth. It was a symbol of untouchable status, connections, and influence.

Even the prestigious Stewart family, with all their resources, couldn't claim access to this enclave of elites.

Yet, Walter's understated car navigated the area with ease. Gates opened without hesitation, and the car moved as though it belonged there—because it did.

Sophia's lips curved into a faint, knowing smirk. The so-called "slum-dwelling Roscente family" Chloe had mocked didn't align with what she was seeing now. Not even close.

Chapter 5 The Roscente Family's Only Miss

Walter kept stealing glances at Sophia's reflection in the rearview mirror.

Most people, even those used to wealth, would show at least a flicker of awe when entering the exclusive Virelia Supreme neighborhood.

But not Sophia. Her face remained serene, her gaze calm and detached, as if the grand display of affluence was nothing more than background noise. Her dark eyes, deep and untroubled like a starry night, revealed no trace of emotion.

Walter felt a jolt of surprise.

This young woman... she had an air about her. Her presence mirrored the appearance of the Foster family patriarch.

This must be what the Fosters expected from their eldest daughter.

Now Walter understood why the family couldn't stand Miss Stewart.

Walter muttered to himself under his breath, the thought slipping out before he could stop it.

Sophia's voice broke the silence, sharp and steady. "How many people are at home now?"

Walter froze, startled; he thought she heard him muttering. He scrambled to compose himself. "Right now, only your grandfather is home. Your father is busy with work and seldom visits. You have six older brothers, but family rules dictate they rarely stay here either."

"What about my mother?" Sophia asked, her voice quiet but probing.

Walter's tone grew heavy. "She passed away shortly after giving birth to you."

Sophia lowered her gaze, her long lashes casting faint shadows over her cheeks.

So, she didn't have a mother.

"Miss Roscente, I'm so sorry, but please remember, your father, grandfather, and six big brothers love you just as much," Walter said, his voice softening. For the first time, he caught a fleeting glimpse of something vulnerable behind Sophia's composed exterior.

But when she lifted her head again, her expression was as unreadable as ever. She even joked a bit, "So the house is a boy boarding school now?"

Walter nodded. "Yes, miss. You're the only lady in the family. You'll certainly be cherished by the EIGHT Mr. Roscentes."

"Well, fingers crossed." Sophia's gaze shifted to a burlap sack in the corner of the car. She brushed her fingers against the straw peeking out. "Did Grandpa prepare this?"

Walter chuckled awkwardly. "He's too busy. I prepared it myself under his instructions."

Sophia immediately grasped the situation.

Chloe had also been the Roscente family's only lady, yet she hadn't even been allowed into the main house. She'd grown up believing the Roscentes were poor, living a life devoid of the privilege her birth should have afforded her.

It was clear that being female in the Roscente family didn't count for much.

Now, even as the true daughter returned home, her reception felt lukewarm.

Walter's subtle hints suggested that she was allowed into the main house only because she was older now. They no longer needed to "test" her.

Sophia didn't let it bother her.

Her time with the Stewarts had taught her not to cling to the idea of familial love.

What mattered now was whether the Roscentes could provide her with a stable, peaceful life. If they could offer her even that much, it would suffice.

Twenty minutes later, the car turned onto a quiet, tree-lined avenue and came to a stop in front of an imposing gate.

Sophia craned her neck slightly, taking in the sprawling mansion beyond. It resembled a castle, its sheer grandeur oozing wealth and power, as if the air itself carried its opulence.

Walter, eager to impress, spoke up. "This is the main house. Besides this, there are five other villas in the neighborhood, all belonging to the family."

Sophia had known the Roscentes were wealthy, but this... This was a whole different level.

Walter led Sophia into the grand estate, where uniformed guards at the entrance bowed deeply as they passed.

"Miss Roscente!" they greeted her in unison.

The further they walked, the more greetings followed. Servants they encountered all stopped to acknowledge her with the same level of respect.

Sophia's expression remained composed, and she returned their greetings with polite nods, unruffled by the attention.

Walter noticed her poise. The more he observed her, the more she reminded him of Adrian Roscente, the family patriarch. Sophia carried herself with the same quiet authority.

He guided her upstairs to a room on the second floor. "Miss Roscente, this will be your room. Other than the study, you're free to go wherever you like in the house."

He didn't take her to her grandfather, which made Sophia a bit curious. Yet, she made no comment about that.

From what she'd pieced together, the famed patriarch of the Roscente family had little personal interest in her.

Sophia simply nodded. Then she opened the door, and stepped into her new room.

Though the Roscentes hadn't welcomed her warmly, they treated her far better in terms of comfort than the Stewarts ever had.

The bedroom had clearly been prepared with care. It was spacious and extravagantly decorated, leaning toward a tender, modern aesthetic drenched in lavish pink hues. Every detail screamed wealth.

Sophia wasn't particularly attached to her surroundings, and the sugary decor didn't bother her. She glanced around briefly and said, "Thank you, Walter."

Walter was taken aback that she'd guessed he was behind the room's design. He gave a sheepish laugh. "I'm glad you like it."

Sophia then asked casually, "About the two sacks in the car—since the Stewarts don't want them, may I keep them myself?"

Walter nodded quickly. "Of course. I'll have them brought to your room right away."

*****

Sophia spent the next three days at the Roscente mansion.

During that time, she never met her grandfather.

That suited her just fine.

On the third day, a sleek, limited-edition Maybach pulled up to the estate. An old man stepped out, clad in a sharply tailored black suit.

His face was cold and chiseled, his eyes sharp with the weight of authority. He moved with the assured precision of someone accustomed to absolute control.

"Sir," Walter greeted with the utmost deference.

This was Adrian, the head of the Roscente family.

With his hands clasped behind his back, Adrian strode toward the house, his tone as icy as his demeanor. "You brought HER back?"

"Yes, sir," Walter replied. "She arrived three days ago. She has been very well-behaved—spending most of her time in her room, the garden, or the dining room."

Adrian's expression remained unreadable. He nodded slightly. "Good. She should knew her place."

The Roscentes had always valued discipline over sentiment. Adrian had never met Sophia for even once, so to say he had no love for her wouldn't be an understatement,

To Adrian, bringing Sophia back was simply an obligation, nothing more.

Providing her with shelter and sustenance was enough to fulfill his duty.

He had no intention of meeting her and was already on his way to the study.

Walter hesitated, watching Adrian's retreating figure. After a moment's internal struggle, he spoke up. "Sir... over the past few days, she has been eating alone in the dining room. She seems very... lonely."

Adrian stopped mid-stride and turned slowly, his piercing gaze freezing Walter in place.

Walter swallowed hard before continuing. "I just thought... She has gone through a lot of hardship and neglect while living with the Stewarts. Now that she's home, she might be hoping for a sense of belonging."

He bowed his head deeply. "Since you brought her back, sir, perhaps it would be good to see her—at least once."

Adrian's eyes narrowed. "You're overstepping, you know. That's so not YOU."

Walter's voice grew quieter. "It would be better for everyone, sir."

After a long, heavy pause, Adrian turned without a word and entered the study.

Chapter 6 Meeting Adrian

The garden was alive with the scent of blooming flowers, their fragrance mingling with the crisp morning air.

Sophia sat in the gazebo, serene and focused, a small stone mill set before her.

An open sack lay at her feet, its chaotic contents of dried herbs and roots now meticulously sorted into neat piles.

Sophia picked up a piece of medicinal root and placed it into the mill. Her movements were slow and deliberate, as though the act of grinding carried its own sense of peace.

In front of her, a phone perched on a stand displayed the lively face of Sherry Hayes, a vibrant young woman with striking features. Sherry held a glass of red wine, her expressive gestures matching the passion in her voice. "Congrats on finally escaping that hellhole! No more slaving away for those clowns in the Stewart family!"

Sherry's tone was dripping with satisfaction as she launched into a tirade about the Stewarts, her disdain spilling out without pause.

Before long, her rant shifted to another target. "And don't even get me started on that idiot Ethan Baker. The nerve of him! Parading Chloe around like she's the best thing since sliced bread. I swear, it's like he's daring you to show up!"

Sophia chuckled softly, her calm demeanor unshaken. "You just called him an idiot. Why waste time talking about him?"

Her voice was steady, and her words signaled a complete disinterest in Ethan or anything connected to her old life.

Sherry burst into laughter, raising her wine glass in a mock toast. "You're right. Forget those losers. But seriously, this place looks like something out of a fairytale! Tell me, how's the new setup? Are your new family members treating you well?"

The video captured the gazebo's intricate details and the lush greenery surrounding it, an elegant setting that could only belong to the ultra-wealthy.

Sophia glanced briefly at the screen before returning to her work. "Believe it or not, I haven't even met them yet."

Sherry's mouth fell open in disbelief. "You're joking."

Sophia smiled faintly, unbothered. "It doesn't matter. It's peaceful here, and I can focus on myself for once. That's all I really need."

Sherry leaned closer to the screen, her disbelief giving way to a softer expression. "You're serious? That's... actually good to hear. Isn't that what Grandma Margaret always wanted for you? To live your life for yourself?"

Sophia's hands paused for a moment. The mention of Grandma Margaret Steward brought a flicker of something to her otherwise calm face.

Margaret had been her only source of warmth in the Stewart family, a light in an otherwise bleak existence.

For a time, Sophia had believed that light would always guide her. But life had proven otherwise.

"Honey, it's all in the past now," Sherry said gently, her voice tinged with empathy.

Sherry sighed, watching the subtle shift in Sophia's expression—the slight downturn of her lashes, the quiet melancholy in her usually composed eyes.

That was how Sophia would look every time she heard about Grandma Margaret.

"You've always been like a kite," Sherry began, her tone introspective. "Soaring high, but Margaret kept that string tightly in her hand, so that you wouldn't drift too far away. I know she loved you, but she also held you back. You gave up so much for her—staying in that toxic mess with the Stewarts, putting up with Ethan's nonsense. But now..." Sherry set her wine glass down and looked directly at the screen. "Now, you've finally cut the string. I couldn't be happier for you."

Sophia's lashes quivered slightly.

For a moment, the silence hung between them, broken only by the soft grinding of the mill. Finally, Sophia lifted her head, her eyes clear and composed once more. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched her lips. "The string is cut, and there's no tying it back."

"That's my girl!" Sherry beamed, her playful energy returning as she leaned into the screen. "Alright. It's been three whole days since you left that madhouse. Your new family hasn't bothered to show their faces, so why don't you ditch that palace for a while? Come out and celebrate your freedom with me!"

Sherry's cheerful grin lit up the screen, her warmth filling the space between them. For the first time in days, Sophia felt a genuine sense of connection, even if it was just through the lens of a phone.

Sophia's gaze softened, her smile deepening as her starry eyes seemed to shimmer like a galaxy in motion.

"Sure, but give me a couple of days," Sophia said, holding up the powdered herbs she'd just ground. "These herbs are fantastic for the skin—great for rejuvenation. I'll make you some face masks."

Sherry's eyes sparkled with excitement as she leaned closer to the screen, blowing exaggerated kisses. "Great, I can't wait to see the new you. Love you. I'll see you around."

Sophia chuckled at her antics. After a few more playful exchanges, the call ended.

As she placed her phone aside, the sound of steady footsteps approached from behind.

Turning around, Sophia saw an old man standing at the edge of the gazebo. His chiseled features bore the remnants of a striking handsomeness from his youth, but his severe expression and penetrating gaze were enough to make anyone hesitate.

Sophia stood and wiped her hands on a clean cloth, her posture relaxed but respectful. "Grandpa."

Her calm demeanor betrayed no awe, no eagerness to impress, nor any sign of meekness. She stood tall, composed, and self-assured, offering him only the courtesy due to family.

Adrian studied her intently, his gaze deepening as he observed her.

This young woman... There was something in her that echoed his own younger self.

It wasn't just her composed features but the quiet confidence she exuded.

Sophia didn't cower, nor did she fawn over Adrian, which set her apart from nearly everyone he dealt with.

Adrian, who had approached out of obligation, found his interest unexpectedly piqued. "How's your life at home?" he asked, his tone sharp but not unkind.

Sophia's lips curved into a faint smile. "The house is beautiful, and I've adjusted just fine."

Her smile, though light and polite, carried no warmth or familial closeness. It was an answer designed to meet the question but not invite further discussion.

Adrian's thoughts wandered briefly to Walter's earlier comment about her dining alone and appearing lonely. His brow furrowed slightly. "Do you... feel lonely here?"

Sophia's smile grew a touch more genuine. Her expression softened as she responded with a confident, unshaken warmth. For a moment, there was a glimmer of vulnerability in her demeanor—a rare flash of feeling.

"Not at all," she said. "This is my home. How could I possibly feel lonely at home?"

Adrian blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the simplicity yet depth of her response. His typically stern expression softened ever so slightly.

Initially, Adrian had come out of obligation, prompted by Walter's earlier remarks. His intent was simple: to give Sophia a quick, formal introduction before returning to more pressing matters.

But now... now he found himself unexpectedly intrigued.

Adrian glanced at the sack and stone mill nearby. "What are you working on?"

Sophia gestured to the herbs before her. "I'm grinding medicinal herbs," she replied, sitting back down. Picking up a few sprigs, she held them up for Adrian to see. "These were gifts for the Stewarts, prepared by Walter when he came to pick me up. They didn't want them, and honestly, I don't think we owe them a gift anyway. So, they're mine now."

Adrian raised an eyebrow at her candid tone but showed no objection. "You're a Roscente. You have every right to decide what to do with them." His attention lingered on the herbs for a moment before shifting to her hands. "You know how to handle herbs?"

Sophia nodded, her response modest. "Yes, although not that much."

Reaching into the sack, she pulled out a small wooden box and stepped forward to hand it to him. "Walter mentioned you often deal with family affairs, which brings on frequent headaches and chest tightness. Relying on medication helps in the short term, but over time, it will wear down your body. After all..." She paused briefly before continuing with calm resolve, "you're not getting any younger."

Her tone was even and respectful, but there was no trace of hesitation or flattery—just straightforward honesty.

Behind her, Walter froze, his eyes widening as he barely stifled a gasp. 'Oh no. She's gone and done it now!' he thought, practically holding his breath. Age is Mr. Roscente's sore spot. He's going to explode.'

Chapter 7 Hard Outside Yet Soft Inside

Adrian's piercing gaze turned even frostier, amplifying the intimidating vibe he already carried like a second skin. The room seemed to shrink under his cold demeanor.

Sophia, however, appeared completely undisturbed. Her tone was steady and calm. "Grandpa, I made these herbal pills especially for you. They're much better for your health than those chemicals you've been relying on."

She folded her hands neatly, her voice carrying a gentle firmness. "No matter how busy you are, you should take meals on time, and rest is non-negotiable. Pushing your body like this won't work forever."

Adrian's face remained a mask of stone, and the weight of his silence pressed down.

Walter, standing on the sidelines, felt his knees go weak. His urge to grab Sophia and flee the gazebo was almost irresistible.

But then, Adrian did the unexpected—he chuckled. The sound was low, gravelly, and laced with intrigue. "You're bold. No one in this family has ever talked to me like that before."

Sophia's expression remained unwavering. "I'm your granddaughter. It's only natural that I care for your well-being."

Adrian arched an eyebrow, his gaze sharpening. "Aren't you afraid I'll toss you out?"

"You won't," Sophia said with quiet confidence, her tone leaving no room for doubt.

Adrian's laughter deepened, and for a fleeting moment, the icy edges of his face softened. "You're just like me when I was your age—fearless and unyielding."

He reached for the box she offered.

Then he examined the fine craftsmanship of its wooden surface, carved with intricate designs. It was a simple but elegant piece.

"Since you trust me enough to accept my first gift," Sophia said with a gentle but firm tone, "please make sure to follow the instructions carefully. Take the medicine twice a day, one pill each time—it's a two-week supply."

Sophia's gaze then shifted toward the corner where Walter was attempting—and failing miserably—to remain invisible. Her voice was crisp as she addressed him. "Walter, make sure Grandpa follows the dosage instructions. I'll return in two weeks to check his pulse and adjust the prescription if needed."

Walter froze in place, his cover thoroughly blown.

'How did she see me?' he wondered.

Stammering, he stepped forward nervously. After steal a glance at Adrian, Walter replied, "Yes, Miss Roscente. Whatever you say."

Adrian turned his eyes back to Sophia, his expression inscrutable.

Walter's heart raced, certain that he might erupt in anger at any moment. He was afraid that Adrain might really toss Sophia out in fury.

But instead, Adrian let out a deep, hearty laugh that filled the garden.

He seemed quite pleased.

Then he walked away, still chuckling under his breath.

Walter stood slack-jawed, unsure of what had just happened.

Only after Adrian disappeared from sight did he exhale shakily. "Miss Roscente, I swear, you nearly gave me a heart attack!"

He clutched at his chest dramatically, glancing between the door Adrian had exited and Sophia's composed demeanor. "I've served him for decades, and this is the first time I've ever seen him laugh like that. He must really have a soft spot for you."

Sophia smiled faintly and reached into her sag, pulling out a small pouch. She handed it to Walter. "Here's one for you too. Same dosage—twice a day, one pill at a time."

Walter accepted the bag, his eyes shining with gratitude as he inspected the small, dark pills.

At last, he sighed, "Miss Roscente, you're too kind. I never thought I'd get the same care as Mr. Roscente."

That evening, Sophia arrived at the dining room precisely on time.

She hadn't even settled into her seat before Adrian entered, pulling out the chair across from her and sitting down without a word.

Walter, overseeing the staff as they arranged Sophia's meal, froze mid-step. His eyes widened in disbelief as he watched the interaction.

He glanced between Adrian and Sophia, admiration lighting up his face.

He thought to himself, 'Miss Roscente is something else!'

Sophia met Adrian's stern gaze with a warm smile. Her voice carried a note of encouragement. "Grandpa, showing up for meals on time is a great start. Let's see if you can keep up this momentum."

Adrian's brows twitched ever so slightly at her comment, but he said nothing.

The two of them had dinner in silence. Neither said a word, but the whole process was peaceful and pleasant.

Over the next two days, despite Adrian's busy schedule, he returned home every evening to have dinner with Sophia.

Adrian's physical and mental condition improved as well.

Watching this unfold, Walter was so moved he wanted to shed some tears.

'A miracle in my lifetime!' Walter screamed inside.

One night at eleven, Sophia carefully packed two bottles—one black and one white—into an elegant gift bag. She even tied a pink silk ribbon into a bow on the handle.

Just then, her phone rang. It was Sherry. "Emergency! Save me!" Sherry's frantic voice came through. "The boys found out you're finally 'out of that hell hole' and won't stop clamoring to see you. If you don't show up soon, Zack and his gang are going to pester me into early retirement!"

Sophia glanced at the gift bag she had just tied up, her brows lifting. "You sure know how to pick your timing. I just finished packing your face masks."

"Aww... That's it. Half an hour! I better see your sweet little ass at the Abyss!" Sherry exclaimed and hung up before Sophia could even reply.

Sophia stared at her phone for a moment before laughing softly.

The Abyss was a racetrack that Zack Collins and the other Virelia's rich playboys had privately rented. Before returning to the Stewart family, Sophia had often gone there.

It had been three years... maybe it was time to reconnect.

Sophia grabbed the gift bag from the table and headed to the garage.

Walter had mentioned the Roscente family's garage and told her she could take any car she liked, though she hadn't had a reason to visit until now.

When she arrived, she was stunned.

The Roscente family garage had five full levels, with rows of luxury cars and limited-edition supercars lined up neatly like an extravagant automobile museum.

Sophia spent a while browsing before finally choosing the most inconspicuous car she could find. She drove it out of the estate.

On the second floor of the mansion, Adrian stood by the floor-to-ceiling window.

His face was cold and composed as he watched the black sports car disappear into the distance. He scoffed quietly. "She won't let me stay up late, but now she's running off to enjoy the nightlife herself."

Walter, smiling as always, tried to reassure him. "She is still young, sir. She should have a life of her own. She needs her social circle. I heard that, Miss Chloe Steward has been attending parties and social events every night since returning to her family."

"Let's focus on what's actually important," Adrian cut him off, clearly uninterested in Chloe's activities. He clasped his hands behind his back and walked to his chair, his voice gruff. "I'm not saying she has to stay cooped up, but look at the time. What hour is it now?"

Walter glanced at his watch. "It's 11:15 PM, sir. You've also exceeded the bedtime she set for you by an hour and a half."

Adrian shot him a sharp look. "Really, Walter? Already siding with her now?"

Despite his words, Adrian put away the documents he'd been reviewing, rose from his seat, and retired to his bedroom.

Chapter 8 Seeing Chloe And Ethan Again

Thirty minutes later, Sophia's car came to a stop at the entrance of the Abyss.

The place was packed with people, and modified race cars filled every corner of the venue.

Judging by the crowd's energy, it seemed like a big race was happening tonight.

"SOPHIA!" A shrill, excited voice rang out from the crowd.

Sherry, wearing a fiery red mini dress, spotted Sophia without fail and ran straight toward her.

She trotted over on her sky-high heels and can wait to see Sophia.

Throwing her arms wide, Sherry pulled Sophia into a tight hug and planted a loud kiss on her cheek.

Sophia turned her face to avoid it, but Sherry's dramatic, mock-crying voice stopped her. "Waaaah! You've been 'serving time' for three years and didn't visit me once. Three whole years! Do you know how I survived without you?!"

Sophia was at a loss for words.

In the end, she let Sherry leave a bright red lipstick mark on her cheek.

Satisfied, Sherry slung an arm around Sophia's shoulder and grinned. "So, where's my face mask? You didn't forget, did you?"

Sophia pulled the gift bag from her hand and flicked the pink bow tied on top with her slender fingers. "Here, with your favorite bow."

"Love you forever!" Sherry squealed, grabbing the bag and puckering up for another kiss.

Sophia dodged this time, and Sherry finally relented. "Zack and the boys heard you were coming and threw together a party upstairs just for you."

Sophia raised a brow. "What's next? Did they light a fireplace and prepare for me to burn all my past regrets and start a new life?"

"Of course! It's standard procedure!" Sherry joked with a wink.

"You should've told me to bring something to burn, then," Sophia quipped.

"Three years are up—time to welcome back our queen. So, feeling like making a splash tonight?" Sherry's eyes sparkled with excitement, darting toward the car Sophia had driven in.

Her gaze lit up when she saw the sleek, understated sports car. "Wait a second, is that a Bugatti limited edition built for racing?! They haven't even released this yet. And you're already driving one?"

"Picked it from the garage. It's the most racing one, and the most low-key option I could find," Sophia said casually.

Sherry's jaw dropped as she ran to the car, brushing her hand reverently over its body. "Honey, your new family must be filthy rich."

Sophia was about to respond when a sweet, deliberately soft voice interrupted. "Sophia, what a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you here."

Chloe appeared, dressed to perfection in a designer outfit and carrying an expensive handbag.

She strutted over, flanked by a group of hangers-on who surrounded her like she was royalty.

Stopping in front of Sophia, Chloe flashed a delicate smile. "Ethan just got called away by some friends."

Her words dripped with implication. The "coincidence" of meeting here wasn't random at all—she insinuated that Sophia had shown up specifically to chase after Ethan.

Sophia gave her a flat glance and replied coolly, "What makes you think I'd care for the whereabouts of the trash I tossed away?"

Chloe's smile faltered, her face twisting in shock. 'Did... did she just call Ethan trash?'

She stared at Sophia, mouth agape.

Sophia had spent three years fawning over Ethan like a lovesick puppy. Chloe believed that, there was no way Sophia could have let him go.

Chloe forced herself to remain calm.

She was sure that Sophia was putting on a front.

After all, Chloe was now the one standing proudly by Ethan's side, acknowledged as his fiancée.

She was the victor—the one meant to crush Sophia underfoot.

Chloe's sense of superiority swelled as she put on a delicate smile, her gaze sliding past Sophia to the sleek sports car behind her. "Sophia, didn't you move back to the slums? This car... where did you get it?"

Feigning regret, she lifted a dainty hand to cover her mouth. "Oh no, I didn't mean anything by it. I just wanted to remind you that even though you're no longer a Stewart, you should still be mindful. Try not to tarnish the name while you're out and about."

One of Chloe's followers pounced on the opportunity, sneering. "Everyone knows the fake heiress of the Stewart family got kicked out and is just a slum rat now. If she's done something disgraceful, it's on her. The Stewart family—and especially you, Chloe—don't need to take the blame."

Another follower chimed in mockingly, "Sophia, you're so obvious. You found out Ethan would be here tonight, so you rented a flashy car to show off. Trying to catch his eye, huh?"

Another one laughed, " 'Picked it from a garage'? A slum rat like you has a garage? That's rich!"

She paused, and continued, "Everyone knows Ethan is Chloe's fiancé. Sophia, you're so desperate; just quit embarrassing yourself, will you?"

The taunts came like a barrage, each one harsher than the last. Chloe basked in the attention, her lips curving into a smug smile she barely concealed. Yet outwardly, she maintained her pretense of concern, raising a hand as though to calm the crowd. "Don't be harsh," Chloe said sweetly. "Ethan and I are engaged now. I'm sure she wouldn't stoop so low as to covet someone else's fiancé."

Her tone was syrupy, but her words dripped with mockery thinly veiled as kindness.

Sherry's face darkened, her short fuse flaring. She was about to explode when Sophia placed a steady hand on her shoulder, signaling her to hold back.

Sophia stepped closer to Chloe, her calm gaze locking onto hers. Her voice was steady, each word sharp and precise. "You're right, Chloe. We're nothing alike. I don't chase after someone else's fiancé and cling to them like a club stripper. Clearly, you're well-practiced in doing just that—and you're even proud of stealing someone else's place."

Sophia smiled faintly, a deliberate and cutting expression. "That's right, Chloe. Just scream and yell. Tell everyone your legend—how a third wheel got her own way."

The air went still. Chloe's face turned a vivid red, her smugness crumbling into mortification.

Everyone present knew the truth—before Chloe reappeared, Sophia had been Ethan's fiancée, publicly acknowledged by both families. Even if Ethan had been indifferent toward Sophia, their engagement had been formal and official.

Yet Chloe had begun seeing Ethan well before she'd been officially welcomed back into the Stewart family.

The crowd, which had been watching with mild amusement, now glanced at Chloe with judgment and whispered curiosity.

Chloe's lip trembled, fury and humiliation mingling as she struggled to keep her composure.

Her eyes welled with tears, but her dramatic display was undermined by one of her followers blurting out, "If you weren't good enough to keep Mr. Baker, that's your problem! Chloe didn't steal anything—he chose her! You just couldn't measure up!"

The murmurs around them grew louder, the careless comment confirming what everyone had suspected: Chloe had indeed taken Ethan by inserting herself into Sophia's place.

Chloe's nails dug into her palms as she bit her lip, anger and panic swirling inside her. 'Why do I surround myself with such idiots?'

Her eyes darted toward the distance, spotting a familiar guy approaching. A flicker of calculation crossed her face, and by the time she looked back, her expression was a perfect mix of sorrow and innocence, tears spilling convincingly down her cheeks. "Sophia," Chloe said, her voice trembling as if deeply hurt, "Ethan's engagement was always meant to be with the daughter of the Stewart family. I... I'm the rightful Stewart daughter. Ethan and I are legitimate. You can't slander me just because Ethan chose me over you."