Chapter 107

Victoria Blackwood grasped Sophia Montgomery's hand, tears streaming down her face. "Sophia, you've finally come," she whispered hoarsely.

"Mother..." Sophia's voice cracked with emotion. "I'm so sorry. Something happened today... I'm late."

Her day had been a nightmare—leaving the construction site, the confrontation with Benjamin Thornton at the bus stop, walking in a daze for an entire station before finally boarding another bus.

By the time she reached the hospital, visiting hours were nearly over.

Sophia knew Victoria's condition was worsening. She wanted to stay by her side, but she couldn’t afford to lose her job. No matter how grueling the work was, it was her only lifeline.

As an ex-convict, opportunities were scarce. She couldn’t throw this one away.

Kneeling beside Victoria’s bed, she repeated in a broken voice, "I'm sorry, Mother... I'm so sorry..."

Victoria weakly shook her head. "Don’t apologize, my dear. I know how hard you work. A woman must stand on her own. My time is almost up... Don’t sacrifice your future for me."

Sophia’s tears fell harder.

"Shh." Victoria lifted a trembling hand to wipe them away. "Sophia, promise me one thing."

Sophia nodded frantically. "Anything. Ten things. Just name it."

"Ethan..." Victoria paused, struggling for breath. "I know he seems cold, unfeeling. But that’s the world’s fault. Before he turned ten, the Blackwoods refused to acknowledge him. Even after they did, they denied him inheritance rights. His entire life, he’s been hunted, betrayed. That’s why he built walls around himself."

She coughed weakly before continuing. "But beneath that ice, he’s a good man. Warm him slowly, and he’ll melt for you."

Sophia forced a smile. "I know, Mother. Ethan... has been kind to me."

Victoria shook her head. "That’s not what I mean. I’m being selfish. You’re strong, patient, and kind. I’m begging you—no matter what happens, don’t let him face this world alone. Watch over him. Protect him from those who would destroy him."

Her voice grew fainter. "In prison, I taught you everything—housekeeping, construction, survival. Now, I ask you to be his anchor. Promise me."

"I promise," Sophia choked out. "Just rest now, please."

It was terrifying how quickly life could fade. Just days ago, Victoria had been vibrant. Now, her skin had taken on a sickly pallor—a sign of her body failing.

The doctor stepped forward, urgency in his tone. "Mr. Blackwood, we need to move her to isolation immediately. High-dose antipyretics, though they’ll weaken her further. Without them, her organs will burn out."

Ethan understood. Jaw clenched, he gave a curt nod and guided Sophia out.

The grief was crushing, but he had no time to indulge it. The company, his enemies—they wouldn’t wait.

Outside the ward, his strides were long and purposeful. He overtook Sophia without a glance, heading straight for his car.

Sophia didn’t look at him either.

Nathan Carter, Ethan’s assistant, watched her pass with a pang. His lips parted—he almost called out, "Mrs. Blackwood." But Ethan’s glacial expression silenced him.

Loyalty won over sympathy.

The drive was tense. Finally, Nathan ventured, "Sir... with your mother’s condition, you’ll soon have no family left. Miss Montgomery, despite what happened with Isabella... her heart is good. Maybe—"

Ethan cut him off. "Don’t be fooled by trivial kindness."

Nathan swallowed his words.

At Ethan’s penthouse, an unexpected interruption—a security guard hurried over with a package. "Mr. Blackwood, this arrived for you."

Ethan frowned. He never ordered anything online.

Nathan intercepted it, tearing the parcel open cautiously. Inside lay an elegant cigarette filter and a handwritten postcard.

The bold, graceful script was unmistakable.

Sophia’s.