Slap!

The sharp sound of a slap echoed through the hallway.

Isabella Valentine clutched her cheek, tears welling in her eyes as she glared at the bodyguard. "How dare you harass me!"

The bodyguard looked stunned. "Miss Valentine, I didn’t do anything."

"Get out of my way!" She shoved him aside.

When she turned to Ethan Sullivan, her expression instantly melted into a sickly sweet smile. "Ethan, what a coincidence! Are you here for charity too?"

Ethan’s expression remained cold and unreadable as his gaze flicked toward Sophia Laurent. "I’m accompanying my wife for her donation."

"You remarried?" Isabella’s smile froze.

Ethan’s tone was distant. "That’s none of your concern."

Sophia’s lips curved slightly as she subtly hooked her pinky around his palm.

Ethan immediately interlaced their fingers, holding her hand tightly.

He looked down at Sophia, his eyes softening with tenderness.

Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a golden glow over them like a perfect pair.

Isabella’s fingers trembled with jealousy.

She forced a smile. "Ethan, you’re always joking."

Ignoring her, Ethan murmured to Sophia, "Let’s leave after the donation."

Sophia nodded to the bodyguard.

Soon, boxes of toys, clothes, and snacks were carried in.

Kneeling before a frail little girl, Sophia gently stroked her hair.

"Eat well and grow up happy," she whispered, giving her a warm hug.

The girl looked up with wide eyes. "You’re so pretty, sister."

A nearby photographer deliberately asked, "Who’s prettier—this sister or Miss Valentine?"

The girl blinked. "I like both, but this sister has stars in her eyes."

Isabella’s face darkened.

Without lingering, Sophia handed a check to the director and prepared to leave.

Isabella, however, continued posing, forcing the children to play along for her staged photos.

As they exited the orphanage, Sophia’s endorsement posters adorned every billboard along the way.

The massive advertisement for Scholastic Gardens at the sales office was the final straw for Isabella.

She immediately dialed Victor Sullivan. "Uncle Victor, how could you choose Sophia as your spokesperson? She doesn’t suit your luxury properties!"

Victor replied bluntly, "Her influence is undeniable. Sales doubled after her last campaign."

"That’s because the properties are exceptional!"

"Collectors in the antique circle are our target demographic." He paused. "But remarriage is still premature."

Isabella’s heart leapt. "Then who do you envision as your ideal daughter-in-law?"

"Isabella, let it go. With your qualifications, why cling to one tree?"

The call ended abruptly.

Fuming, Isabella stomped her foot and cursed everyone under her breath.

The next night, Sophia emerged from her studio, rubbing her sore neck.

Exhaustion weighed on her after days of intense work.

"Take me for a massage," she said to Iris Evans. "My shoulders are killing me."

They arrived at an upscale spa.

The opulent decor surprised Sophia slightly.

The professional massage eased her fatigue.

As she waited in the lounge, her phone rang.

"Finished?" Ethan’s deep voice came through.

"Just wrapped up. Heading back now."

"I’ll pick you up."

"No need. The bodyguards can drive me."

"I want to see you." His tone was stubborn.

Every night apart left him tossing and turning in an empty bed.

Sophia relented. "Fine. Wait for me when you arrive."

Mid-conversation, footsteps approached.

Sophia looked up—and her face paled.