When Aiden spotted them together, the color drained from his face.
Sophia—standing beside Lucas Hilton?
And Ethan—where the hell was Ethan?
"Mr. Hilton," Eugene Wright called out as he leaned on his cane, trying to look both warm and authoritative. "What took you so long? Where have you been all this ti?"
He’d already worked the room like a seasoned politician, charming half the investors and sealing tentative deals before dessert had even been served. The fashion show had given everyone plenty to talk about—and Eugene was making sure the Wright Family stayed right in the middle of it.
Lucas’s expression didn’t change. "I had a small matter to take care of," he said coolly. "But it’s getting late, Old Mr. Wright. I’m surprised you still have the energy to mingle at this hour."
Eugene chuckled, pretending not to notice the jab. "The body may age, but the heart stays young. And besides—tonight’s final piece was designed by none other than your wife, Miss Sophia. Truly remarkable. If possible, I’d love to discuss a long-term collaboration with her."
He smiled at Sophia, the kind of smile that was all charm and hidden calculation.
Sophia’s lips curved politely, though her eyes were anything but soft. "I appreciate your offer, Old Mr. Wright, but I don’t intend to sign with any corporation. For a single project or an event, perhaps—but long-term collaboration isn’t my goal."
Her gaze lingered on his wrinkled, calculating face.
So this was the man who’d orchestrated everything.
It was Eugene Wright who’d forced her uncle, Frank Turner, to marry into the Wright Family.
The deal? Bring the entire Turner fortune with him—and take his wife’s last na.
If not for Eugene, her mother would never have been cast out of the Turner Family.
If not for him, she might not have died so miserably.
He’d built the Wright empire with Turner money—and called it "success."
If her mother hadn’t been clever enough to leave Sophia a hidden path, they truly would’ve been left with nothing.
Eugene studied her like a collector admiring a rare gem. "Miss Morgan and Mr. Hilton really are a perfect match," he said with a laugh. "If you are not married, I might have tried to set you up with my grandson myself!"
"Your grandson?" Sophia asked sweetly, tilting her head. "You an Ryan?"
The old man’s face imdiately darkened. "My older grandson—Nathan! Ryan is my second grandson."
"Oh?" Her tone was light, teasing. "You sound very proud of Nathan."
Eugene’s smile stiffened. Sothing about this conversation didn’t feel right.
"Of course," he said after a pause. "Everything I have will go to Nathan. That’s why I’m working hard now—to make sure the company stays strong for him."
"I’ve heard Uncle Turner is quite capable," Sophia said casually. "So perhaps you can afford to loosen your grip a little?"
Frank had been fighting to gain full control of the Wright Group for years, but Eugene refused to step down.
Eugene gave a patronizing laugh. "Frank has potential, yes. But he still needs more... experience. The company is complex, and while I may not be the most powerful man in business, I’ve kept things steady for a long ti."
"I see," Sophia said smoothly.
"Mr. Hilton. Miss Morgan."
Right on cue, Frank appeared—forcing a polite smile. Behind him were Mary and a young man who had to be Nathan. Not far away, she spotted Ryan lingering near the bar.
Sophia’s lips curved faintly. "Mr. Turner. What can I do for you?"
"Miss Morgan," Frank said, lowering his voice, "may I have a word in private?"
"Of course."
She turned to Lucas and smiled, her tone dripping with affection. "Honey, I’ll be right back."
"Take your ti," he replied, his mouth twitching as he tried not to smile.
Sophia followed Frank to a quiet corner. "Mr. Turner," she said politely, "what’s the matter?"
"Sophia," he blurted, his composure cracking, "I’m your uncle."
Her eyes flickered, though her face remained calm. "Mr. Turner, I’m sorry—I don’t understand what you an."
"You do," he insisted. "You’re Aurora’s daughter. And I’m Frank—her brother. That makes you my niece!"
Sophia let out a soft, mocking laugh. "Mr. Turner, claiming relatives out of nowhere is a very bad habit.
If you’re trying to use my influence as an excuse to ’reconnect,’ you might as well drop the idea now.
Because..." — her tone cooled, every syllable edged with steel — "I have no family left in this world."
Frank’s face tightened. "Sophia, if you don’t believe , we can take a DNA test."
She smiled thinly. "Even if, as you say, you and my mother were siblings, tell , Mr. Turner—how does a man force his own sister to her death?"
Her eyes darkened, cold fury flashing like a blade.
"I—"
"Turner Family was a respected na once," Sophia continued, her voice calm but cutting. "What made you think marrying into the Wright Family would be better? Or was it Mary who had sothing so irresistible that you decided to beco a live-in son-in-law?"
"Sophia, I’m your uncle, you—"
"Don’t flatter yourself," she interrupted sharply. "I didn’t co here to reconnect. I’m here to avenge my mother. And don’t waste your tricks trying to win over or soften my resentnt. There’s no cure for that."
She reached for a nearby glass of wine, pressed it lightly into his trembling hand, and smiled faintly.
"Mr. Turner, your wife must be thrilled to et ."
Her eyes flicked toward Mary—who kept sneaking glances their way. Clearly, Frank hadn’t co on his own; he’d been pushed.
As for Nathan—the so-called heir—he was nothing but a spoiled playboy. She’d heard rumors that he’d racked up tens of millions in debt, the kind of man who’d sooner crawl back to the Wright Group than face his creditors.
If he didn’t, he’d likely be dead within the year.
"Mr. Turner," Sophia said quietly, "you have children. So useful, so not. I suggest you learn to tell the difference."
Leaving that hanging in the air like a knife, she turned and walked toward Ryan.
He looked surprised. "What are you doing here?"
"Didn’t we agree to et in City Y?" she asked lightly. "Why didn’t I see you at the show?"
"Grandfather didn’t let attend," Ryan said with a shrug. "He sent Nathan instead, but of course Nathan never showed up. The old man was furious. Now that you’re here, I can practically feel his eyes burning holes in my back."
Sophia smiled faintly. "Frank’s a clever man. I just spoke with him—he knows perfectly well which of his sons is capable and which is useless. I could see it in his hesitation. My guess is... he’s leaning toward you."
Ryan tossed back his drink, the crystal clinking softly as he set it down. "So what?"
Her lips curved. "Then I guess you and I are more alike than I thought."
He gave a humorless laugh. "No, Sophia. We’re nothing alike. At least you’re not alone."
His aning was clear—Lucas hadn’t taken his eyes off her once.
Aiden and Ethan had already joined forces to target her. If sothing like that happened again, there was no guarantee she’d walk away so lucky.
Sophia looked away, her faint smile fading into sothing unreadable.
Even now, she couldn’t truly say she and Lucas were on the sa side.
Their connection—if it could be called that—was built on circumstance: the child, the contract, and the heat between them.
As for love...
She didn’t believe Lucas Hilton was the kind of man who trusted easily.
And she—wasn’t the kind of woman who believed in love, either.
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