Chapter 71

Sophia's gaze lifted to meet Ethan's stormy eyes, her expression shifting between confusion and wariness. Why was Ethan Blackwood here? Then it struck her—of course he would be present. Every child aboard this luxury yacht belonged to Harborview City's elite circles.

Ethan's tailored suit enveloped Sophia completely as he effortlessly lifted her, cradling her against his chest. His glacial stare swept across the assembled guests, instantly silencing the lively party atmosphere.

The entire deck froze under his presence.

Every soul aboard knew better than to cross Ethan Blackwood.

A month ago, few had recognized his name. Now? He'd orchestrated a bloodless coup at Blackwood Enterprises, systematically replacing every executive with his own handpicked personnel. The transition had been so seamless that stock prices hadn't even fluctuated.

Even William Blackwood, the family patriarch who'd built their empire, now regarded his grandson with newfound respect. Instead of condemning Ethan's ruthless takeover, the old man had begun vetting potential brides for him.

Such was the power of Harborview's most feared businessman.

"Charlotte," someone hissed, "you swore this girl was some gold-digging nobody! How does she know Ethan Blackwood? We're dead—"

Charlotte Kensington's face drained of color. Her painted lips trembled as she attempted a placating smile. "Mr. Blackwood, Sophia was just—"

Ethan didn't wait for explanations. He carried Sophia away without a word, his silence more terrifying than any outburst. The tension didn't break until minutes after his departure.

"What the hell just happened?" A socialite clutched her champagne flute like a lifeline. "That girl didn't even fight back when we—"

"This is your mess, Charlotte!" Another guest rounded on her. "Your grandfather's the only one who can smooth this over. Make the call, or we're all—"

"How was I supposed to know Ethan Blackwood would show up?" Charlotte spat, jealousy twisting her features. Why did this penniless nobody keep attracting Harborview's most powerful man?

First their very public kiss, now this? It was intolerable.

In Charlotte's mind, only she—granddaughter of the Thornton family—deserved Ethan. Her grandfather doted on her, and the Thorntons ranked just below the Blackwoods in influence.

No insignificant gutter rat would steal what was rightfully hers.

Meanwhile, Liam Sterling and Noah Whitmore observed the chaos from their secluded corner. Liam sauntered forward, his smirk effortless. "Honestly, you're all overreacting. My cousin merely removed an eyesore. Do you really think he'd wage war against half of Harborview's elite over some... florist?"

Relief washed over the crowd.

"Mr. Sterling, you'll intercede for us?"

"Of course." Liam waved a dismissive hand. "Ethan has actual business to manage. Carry on with your little party."

Though the yacht remained luxurious, the absence of their intended prey—and Ethan's ominous appearance—drained the evening of its thrill. Guests began departing soon after.

During their drive back, Liam mused aloud, "I'd assumed those idiots would ruin her for me. Turns out fate has other plans. That little wildflower remains... intriguing."

Noah gripped the dashboard. "Are you insane? Did you not see how Ethan claimed her? That wasn't about saving face—that was possession!"

Liam chuckled. "You misunderstand. My cousin protects his investments. He married her for Aunt Victoria's sake—he can't have his temporary wife publicly humiliated." He glanced sideways. "Right now, he's probably educating her on proper behavior."

Meanwhile, Sophia found herself whisked to Ethan's penthouse in suffocating silence. She mourned the lost tips but maintained her habitual stoicism. Disappointment was an old friend.

Ethan's grip never loosened during the elevator ascent or the walk to his door. Sophia's subtle squirming proved futile against his unyielding hold.

The moment the door closed behind them, everything changed.

Ethan pinned her against the hardwood, caging her with his arms. His breath ghosted over her lips as he demanded in a voice rough with barely leashed fury: "Which version of you is real? The survivor or the sacrifice?"