It was ti for the cake cutting.
It was obvious that Tim Sawyer wasn’t very happy, but he still managed to hold it together and didn’t let his emotions show.
And Sophia Lowell still hadn’t seen that man, which made her feel a bit down as well.
But a lot of high-ranking officials’ children showed up at the party, so it seed her father was quite influential too.
"Sophia." A familiar figure appeared in front of Sophia Lowell.
It was Aurora Rhodes.
"Young Master Sinclair." She didn’t forget to greet Ethan Sinclair nearby, her eyes full of respect.
Ethan Sinclair gave a slight nod as a response.
Sophia Lowell lifted the corners of her lips, sipped her red wine.
She glanced at Ethan Sinclair, who got the hint and walked away.
"Thank you." Aurora Rhodes raised her wine glass and clinked it with Sophia’s.
"Thank for what?"
Aurora let out a short laugh. "Thank you for bringing my company its very first client."
"Oh? Then congratulations."
After Sophia reminded her that day, Aurora went back, secretly listened in on their conversation, and even recorded it.
She didn’t drink that glass of wine either, secretly swapped her glass with the woman beside her that night.
After the drinks were over and Aurora was about to leave, she ’accidentally’ left her phone—with the cara on and recording.
That woman was knocked down right there in the private room, and the whole process was caught on tape.
Afterward, to prevent Aurora from exposing anything, everyone present decided to put a whole year’s worth of advertising into Aurora’s agency.
"Killed several birds with one stone. This gig will feed for years." Aurora exchanged a knowing smile with Sophia. "As thanks, I won’t steal your man, for now. I think making money is more important. But that doesn’t an I’ll never try."
Sophia let out a soft laugh, not taking it seriously.
"If you can steal him, go ahead. Anyone you can take away is trash anyway." Her eyes reddened.
It had been three months; she thought she’d put it behind her, but whenever it was brought up, there was still a lump in her chest, suffocating her.
She didn’t feel secure with Zane Sterling, or with any man, just like Henry Quinn.
The two chatted for a long ti, like friends who had longed to et each other forever.
In the end, they added each other on WhatsApp before reluctantly parting.
"Young Master Sinclair." Sophia found Ethan Sinclair sneaking sushi in the corner.
"Do you and The eldest Miss Rhodes have so kind of deal?" Ethan asked.
"No business, just a little history."
"A little history and yet you’re having such a good ti chatting."
Sophia pressed her lips together. "A lot of people have been calling you Young Master Sinclair tonight—are you so rich heir or what?"
Ethan was caught off guard, sat straighter, and vowed solemnly, "My family runs a farm. Hang around enough stables and you get to know —you know this already. If it weren’t for working under Mr. Sterling, I’d be ho inheriting my herd of pureblood horses."
The way he answered, so earnest, actually made sense sohow.
Sophia nodded.
"Try this." Ethan pointed at the sushi nearby. "This one tastes pretty good."
Sophia leaned in, picked up the tongs, grabbed a piece of at onto a disposable plate, and tasted it slowly. "Not bad."
The two of them joked and laughed while enjoying the food.
A rookie who had just started at the company happened to catch the mont on cara.
The photo ended up in the [Eight Million a Day] group chat, centing all the rumors about Ethan and Sophia.
Ethan, dressed in a white suit, with his over six-foot fra and his dangerously handso face, was eye-catching.
It was warm inside. Sophia wore a white silk slip dress, pearl ribbons on her shoulders, gold hair spilled over her collarbones—gorgeous to the extre.
The two standing together looked like the perfect match.
Having known each other for years and always seen out together, most people were used to shipping them by now.
"I’m going to the restroom. Later, let’s call a driver." Sophia set down her wine and glanced at Ethan, who was slouched lazily at her side.
He waved her off.
She got up and headed to the restroom.
Only to spot a familiar figure in the hallway.
Tim Sawyer’s father!
He was chatting leisurely with a young man, walking slowly.
Sophia trailed after them.
Her heart was thumping—thinking about how to say hello, or what she was supposed to do.
If it was the father she hadn’t seen in decades, what was she supposed to do?
March up and slap him twice? Or recognize him as her dad? What if he didn’t recognize her?
She didn’t even know what this man’s na was.
And how was she supposed to act around Tim Sawyer afterward?
Panic fluttered in her chest, the sound of her high heels tapping hurriedly down the hall.
The two ahead heard the footsteps and, like gentlen, stopped calmly by the side.
Sophia froze, stopping right before the familiar man.
She couldn’t be wrong—she’d seen this face hundreds, thousands of tis in lonely nights.
No way she’d get it wrong!
Even though he was no longer young, his expression, his features—they couldn’t fool her!
This was the man in the photos—the ’father’ she hadn’t seen in over twenty years.
"Young lady, are you here for birthday cake? Did you get lost?"
The man spoke; it was the first ti she heard his voice.
Sophia was so nervous she couldn’t speak.
Instead, the young man beside him spoke up.
"Sophia?"
"??"
He knew her?
Sophia then realized the man standing next to ’her father’ was Sienna Lawson’s uncle!
She had brought her car to him for repairs—it was this guy!
Sienna’s grandfather had a son late in life—he was just thirty, not much older than Sienna.
Sienna and Henry Quinn’s story was spread by him, too.
Sophia still rembered the daggers in his eyes when she picked up her car.
Like he wanted to devour her, whole.
He was covered in grease, car key in hand—refused to give it to her.
In the end, Sophia had to all but wrestle it away from him.
And he rembered her—she’d made quite the impression.
He’d never t a woman this tough, ever.
She wasn’t afraid of the Lawson Family causing trouble and was willing to leave her car with him just like that.
"Hello, I’m Sophia." She spoke to her ’father.’
She reached out her hand.
Seeing the two n before her, Sophia’s nerves almost broke—
She chickened out, suddenly unsure what to do.
’Father’ paused, staring at her blonde hair, before slowly extending his hand.
"Hello. Nancy Sawyer."
So his na was Nancy Sawyer.
The two of them stood frozen for half a minute before letting go.
"Hello. Clay Gable." The ’uncle’ grinned wickedly and extended his hand toward Sophia.
Sophia finally looked at him carefully.
His collar was undone by two buttons, he wore a watch worth hundreds of thousands, one hand in his pocket, the other one waiting for her to shake.
He must’ve been about 6’2", hair a bit ssy and hanging into his brows—a roguish, careless look.
He didn’t call her out, and all Sophia could do was feign a handshake, quickly pulling her hand back.
"Looking for soone, Miss Lowell?" Nancy Sawyer asked.
She pulled herself together and looked at Nancy Sawyer.
"Yes."
"Did you find them?" Nancy Sawyer pressed.
"Just did," Sophia replied.
"Good." Nancy Sawyer.
Their gazes t, but neither spoke further.
"Miss Lowell, car still running fine? Mind if we add each other on WhatsApp? If anything’s wrong, you can call anyti." Clay Gable broke the awkward silence.
I’d seriously thank him! Who wishes people’s cars to break down, seriously?
"The car’s just fine, thanks for your concern, Mr. Gable!"
Just looking at him reminded her of all the gross things—what bad luck!
"Miss Lowell, see you around." Nancy Sawyer.
His face was fairly expressionless.
But based on the look just now, he seed a little stirred up, though he couldn’t be sure.
He wasn’t even sure if he recognized her or not.
Sophia wanted to say sothing. He turned and left before she could.
Clay Gable, though, paused for a mont, scanning her up and down.
Sophia shot him a glare, her face saying, "One more look and I’ll gouge your dog eyes out!"
Clay Gable snickered, then followed after Nancy Sawyer and left.
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