Chapter 227

Sophia's cheeks flushed instantly. She cleared her throat and bent down to ask Lily softly, "Sweetheart, tell Mommy, did you sleep well last night? Were you scared?"

Lily nodded, a hint of pride flashing across her delicate face. She tugged at Sophia's hand, urging her to crouch lower, then whispered in her ear, "Mommy, the bed in the mean villain's house is so comfy, like a princess's cradle! I had the sweetest dreams. I wasn’t scared at all. I’m the bravest girl ever!"

She paused, then added with concern, "Mommy, did you sleep well? Were you scared?"

Lily’s bed had been custom-made by Ethan—a crescent-shaped frame adorned with floral wreaths, straight out of a fairy tale. The moment Lily saw it yesterday, she had fallen in love, though she’d been too angry with Ethan to admit it.

Now, after a peaceful night’s sleep, her anger had faded. She wasn’t afraid of Ethan anymore.

But she was worried about her mother.

She knew Sophia was still terrified of him.

And judging by her mother’s expression now, that fear hadn’t gone away.

Sophia forced a small smile. "I’m glad you slept well, baby. That makes Mommy happy. As for me…"

How could she explain that she’d spent the night tangled up with the very man Lily called a "mean villain"?

The words stuck in her throat.

"Mommy, did the bad guy give you a bed too? Did he let you sleep?" Lily pressed, her big eyes full of worry.

Sophia froze.

The maid standing nearby stifled a giggle.

Ethan—the so-called "mean villain"—glanced at Lily, his expression unreadable. Then, blunt as ever, he stated, "I didn’t prepare a separate bed for your mother. She slept with me. I held her all night."

Sophia’s face burned scarlet. She ducked her head so low she might as well have buried it in the floor.

Lily blinked, confused. "But Mommy’s not a baby! Why would you need to hold her?"

Ethan didn’t miss a beat. "Because she’s afraid of sleeping alone. Just like you used to hold her in Willowbrook County. Now, it’s my turn."

"Oh." Lily chewed her lip, unable to argue.

It made sense, didn’t it? If she had this beautiful bed all to herself, who would cuddle Mommy? Maybe the mean villain wasn’t so bad after all…

Her gaze flicked up to Ethan, thoughtful.

"Lily," he said, "your mother needs more rest. After breakfast, you’re coming to the office with me."

Lily frowned. "Why?"

Sophia tensed. "Why take her? Where am I supposed to go?"

Ethan turned, arching a brow. "Use your brain. Do you have any clothes? Or were you planning to wander the streets in my shirt?"

Sophia’s protest died on her lips.

He was right.

"Can’t you leave Lily here? I won’t run," she tried.

"No. She’s my hostage." His tone left no room for negotiation. Then, to Lily: "Eat. Your mother needs sleep."

Before Sophia could react, he scooped her up and carried her back to his bedroom.

At the door, he paused, glancing back at Lily.

She was watching him, wide-eyed.

Ethan narrowed his gaze.

Lily immediately scampered off, giggling.

She wasn’t scared anymore. In fact, she found him kind of funny.

Inside the bedroom, Sophia squirmed in his arms. "I thought this room was full of traps and weapons?"

"It is."

"Then how—"

"You’re safe," he cut in. "The system recognizes you now. Every inch of you carries my scent—especially the deepest parts."

Sophia’s face flamed anew.

She hated how easily he could fluster her. Every blush felt like surrender.

Ethan deposited her on the bed and called out, "Margaret, bring the goose-down quilt."

The quilt arrived swiftly. Ethan tucked Sophia in, watching as she burrowed into the pristine white folds. Then, without hesitation, he began changing—right in front of her.

He didn’t shy away.

Shirt off. Pants next. Fresh clothes on.

His body was a masterpiece—lean yet powerfully built, every muscle defined. In a tailored suit, he could’ve outshone any Hollywood heartthrob.

Sophia stared, mesmerized.

Her mind replayed last night—his steel-like arms, the way he’d pinned her beneath him—

A knock shattered the memory.

"Madam?" The maid’s voice floated through the door.

The title stung. Sophia stayed silent.

"Madam, please respond. The room’s security won’t deactivate otherwise."

Oh.

"Come in," Sophia relented.

The maid entered, carrying a breakfast tray. "Madam, Mr. Blackwood asked me to prepare this for you—white fungus, red dates, and lotus seed soup. Please, have some."

Her tone was motherly, soothing. Sophia took a bite. Then another. Before she knew it, the bowl was empty.

The maid returned moments later with a medical kit.

Sophia recoiled. "I—I’m fine. No need for that."

The thought of being examined after last night made her skin crawl.

"Madam," Margaret said gently, "think of me as a doctor. If a woman neglects her health, she’ll suffer later—and so will her children. You want to be strong for Lily, don’t you?"

Sophia exhaled.

Margaret was right.

She wasn’t dead yet. She had to live—for Lily.

"Alright," she whispered. "Just… be quick."

Margaret smiled. "Of course, Madam."