Chapter 109

Ethan Blackwood's POV

"You gave me so many exquisite outfits. I've never owned anything so luxurious in my life. And that high-end laptop—I don’t even know how to express my gratitude."

"Let me give you something in return, though I’m practically broke."

"Even if I had money, I wouldn’t know your taste. A single suit of yours probably costs more than my yearly salary. So, I’ll give you something simple but meaningful."

"I picked this cigarette holder carefully—the color and design suit a powerful, sophisticated man like you."

"I don’t know if you’ll like it."

"If you don’t, just tell me. I’ll find something else next time."

"It’s not expensive."

"But you love smoking, and I’ve noticed you inhale deeply, letting the smoke linger before exhaling through your nose. That habit makes tar seep into your lungs more easily."

"This holder will help filter some of it."

"You’re strong, but even the strongest need protection."

—Sophia.

Beneath the note, she had drawn a cheeky sun with exaggerated buck teeth—playful, whimsical, and undeniably charming.

Ethan smirked.

He hadn’t even realized it until now.

The moment passed, and his usual composure returned. Clutching the cigarette holder and the note, he found himself standing outside the guest room Sophia had occupied.

The room was pristine. The closet doors were open, revealing all the designer clothes he’d given her—untouched. The rose-gold laptop sat neatly on the bedside table, still in place.

He powered it on.

The desktop displayed only one image—a scanned version of her handwritten note and that ridiculous, grinning sun.

The digital version was larger, more vibrant. The sun’s grin was wilder, unrestrained, just like Sophia’s spirit these past few days.

The doorbell chimed.

Ethan checked the monitor. The security guard’s face appeared.

"Mr. Blackwood, I need to report something."

"What?" Ethan’s voice was ice.

"Right after you collected the package, a young woman came to the gate. She insisted a delivery had been misaddressed to you. I told her you’d already taken it."

"She seemed… surprised."

"Where is she?" Ethan demanded.

He didn’t wait for an answer.

He was already out the door, descending the stairs before the guard could respond.

"That girl? She—she left in a hurry."

Ethan didn’t spare him another glance. He strode to the garage, revved his car to life, and sped onto the main road.

But Sophia was gone.

110

Sophia’s POV

She was long gone by then.

Pathetic, really.

She’d known he wouldn’t keep it. The cigarette holder had cost her nearly a week’s wages—extravagant for someone scraping by.

But she’d bought it anyway.

And now? He’d probably tossed it aside with that signature cold smirk of his.

The thought made her cheeks burn.

She’d just wanted to thank him—for the clothes, for the laptop.

But now, it felt foolish. Like she’d overstepped.

Exhausted, she collapsed onto the lumpy motel bed, still fully dressed. Sleep wouldn’t come.

Half her mind lingered on that damned cigarette holder. The other half worried about Victoria’s condition.

Dawn crept in before exhaustion finally claimed her.

She woke late, scrambling to get ready. Thankfully, the motel was close to the hospital.

But when she arrived, the nurses stopped her.

"Ms. Blackwood is still in the ICU. No visitors allowed."

Defeated, Sophia dragged herself to work.

The office was worse.

Whispers followed her.

"Look at those dark circles. Did she spend the night digging ditches?"

"Probably moonlighting somewhere. Rumor is, she’s so broke she eats like a construction worker."

"Two portions at once, I heard."

Sophia ignored them.

She’d endured worse in prison.

These people had praised her drafting skills just days ago. Now, without the laptop, she couldn’t finish their assignments. Their scorn was predictable.

She kept her head down.

"Designer Linda, any work for me?"

"Not from me," Linda sneered.

Sophia moved to the next desk. Same rejection.

Finally, someone tossed her a bone.

"Since you’re so tired from the construction site yesterday, you can clean the storage room today."

Four hours later, she emerged covered in dust, her clothes filthy.

The women laughed.

Sophia didn’t care. She checked her phone—past noon already.

She hurried toward the hospital.

But as she reached the entrance, she collided with a solid figure.

A familiar voice growled, "You."