Chapter 49

Sophia froze.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she realized Ethan was sitting alone on the sofa, an unlit cigar between his lips, his hands resting on his knees. His dark gaze was fixed on her, intense and unreadable.

She swallowed hard.

"You..." She wanted to ask why he wasn’t asleep yet. Or where Isabella was.

But the words died in her throat.

His expression was terrifying.

"Come here." His voice was a command, leaving no room for refusal.

For a moment, Sophia felt like a disgraced mistress standing before him—powerless, guilty, and small.

She hesitated but obeyed.

Ethan had dismissed Isabella the moment Sophia left.

Though he had once been with her, his body no longer responded to her advances. Every attempt she made to seduce him only deepened his disgust.

If not for that one night—if not for the debt he owed her—he would have thrown her out long ago.

He could give her wealth. He could give her status.

But he could never give her his heart.

Especially when she played her games, manipulating Sophia at every turn. It took every ounce of his self-control not to snap her neck.

Instead, he sent her away.

And then he followed Sophia.

From a distance, he watched her sitting on the garden bench, phone pressed to her ear.

Isabella’s voice had been sickeningly sweet when she called him earlier—flattering, desperate.

It made his blood boil.

Now, standing before him, Sophia had the audacity to act innocent?

He stood abruptly, his arm snaking around her waist, pulling her against him.

The scent of tobacco clung to him—strong, intoxicating. Dangerous.

Sophia’s breath hitched.

She pushed against his chest, but she was weak from her recent illness. Her resistance was futile.

With one swift motion, he pinned her against the sofa.

Her body trembled. Her teeth chattered.

Shame. Fear.

And yet—

A strange familiarity.

It reminded her of that night two months ago, when a stranger had held her just like this.

That man had been her shame.

But he had also been her first.

Her only.

She stopped fighting.

If she pretended it was him, maybe the pain would hurt less.