Isabella Valentine's delicate features bore an uncanny resemblance to Sophia's own face—nearly seventy percent alike.

Sophia stood frozen at the hospital room door, her fingertips trembling slightly.

Now she understood why Ethan Sullivan had agreed to marry her without hesitation three years ago.

She had merely been a substitute.

Isabella's eyes held a more coquettish charm, her upturned nose and cherry-colored lips exuding the fragility of someone coddled since birth.

In contrast, Sophia carried herself with quiet composure, her brows hinting at quiet resilience.

"Ethan, you're here." Victoria Windsor forced a smile, though her gaze turned icy when it landed on Sophia.

Ethan gave a curt nod.

"Darling, Ethan came to see you." Victoria gently nudged her daughter on the hospital bed.

Isabella slowly opened her eyes. Her gaze lingered on Sophia's face for a moment—without a trace of surprise.

"Ethan..." Her voice was barely audible, eyes instantly welling with tears. "I just took a few extra pills because I couldn't sleep. Mom overreacted—"

Victoria suddenly choked up. "Half a bottle of sleeping pills is overreacting? If I hadn't found you in time—"

Ethan moved to sit by the bed.

He tenderly brushed Isabella's hair, his voice impossibly gentle. "Don't ever do this again."

Isabella nodded obediently, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Ethan immediately produced a silk handkerchief, dabbing her tears with the care one would use handling fragile crystal.

Sophia stood rooted at the doorway, her heart clenched by an invisible fist.

In three years of marriage, he had never looked at her that way.

The difference between love and its absence had never been so stark.

"I should go." Sophia turned to leave.

"Explain yourself first." Ethan's voice cut through the air behind her, cold and commanding.

Sophia drew a sharp breath. "Miss Valentine, we were just—"

The words caught in her throat. She hurried out of the room.

It was the first time she had ever defied Ethan.

The corridor lights glared white, casting her already pale face in an even ghostlier hue.

Inside the room, Isabella murmured, "Ethan, you should go after Sophia. She seemed upset."

"She won't be." His tone left no room for doubt.

Isabella sighed softly. "Sophia has such grace. You'd never guess she grew up in the countryside."

Ethan frowned. "Her grandfather was a renowned artifact restoration expert. Her mother is a university professor."

"No wonder." A shadow flickered through Isabella's eyes.

After a pause, she ventured, "You must love her very much?"

Ethan, distracted by his phone, glanced up. "What?"

Isabella forced a smile. "You should walk Sophia out. It's late—it's not safe."

Ethan stood. "I'll take her home and come back."

As he left, Isabella clenched the bedsheet.

"Foolish girl, why let him go?" Victoria hissed.

Isabella smirked. "Didn't you see his heart had already flown after her? Better to play the gracious card than force him to stay."

Outside, the night wind cut like knives.

Sophia walked alone down the deserted street, her slender silhouette swaying under the streetlights.

Sudden footsteps pounded behind her.

Ethan seized her wrist, wordlessly dragging her toward the parking lot.

Inside the car, he shoved a card into her pocket. "The PIN is your birthday."

The gesture stabbed through her heart.

In his eyes, she was only worth pacifying with money.

"Take it." He clamped down on her attempt to return the card. "Money is all I can give you."

The words pierced like a blade.

What she wanted had never been this.

During the drive back, Eleanor Sullivan's furious call came through: "Get back here now!"

In the manor's parlor, the matriarch's face was stormy.

She snatched Ethan's phone and dialed Isabella directly. "Miss Valentine, have some self-respect! Ethan is a married man!"

Without waiting for a reply, she hung up violently.

Ethan frowned. "Isabella has depression."

"Her death wouldn't be your concern!" The old woman erupted into coughing.

Sophia rushed to support her.

After settling Eleanor, Sophia retreated to the guest room.

Ethan had just ended a call—likely comforting Isabella.

Silently, she placed a long body pillow between them on the bed, then fetched an extra blanket.

Two separate cocoons, a clear divide.

Exhausted, Sophia fell into deep sleep.

Morning light filtered through the curtains.

Sophia jolted awake to find herself curled entirely against Ethan's chest.

Her arms clung tightly around his waist, legs tangled with his.

His warm breath fanned across her forehead, his dark eyes swirling with unreadable currents.

"Ah!" She scrambled back, cheeks burning. "How did I end up in your arms?"