Chapter 223

Sophia didn't answer Ethan's question directly.

Her face was pale, her expression detached, but her voice remained steady. "It doesn't matter. I owe you money, don't I? Even if I didn't, you'd find a way to make me indebted to you. You dragged me back here. Since I can't escape, I'll do whatever you demand."

She let out a bitter laugh. "In the eyes of Harborview City's elite, my reputation is already ruined. To all of you, I'm just a scheming, opportunistic woman."

A pause.

"Fine. As long as you let my daughter live peacefully."

She had overheard his phone call earlier. Though she'd never met Ethan's father, she recognized the authority in that voice. The entire city seemed to be waiting, eager to see how Ethan would punish her.

She couldn't run.

So, it didn't matter anymore.

Ethan's grip tightened at her words, fury flashing in his eyes. He wanted to flip her over and teach her a brutal lesson. But the sight of her delicate frame, the exhaustion in her posture, made him hesitate.

Instead, his rough fingers tangled in her disheveled hair, forcing her to meet his icy gaze. "Listen carefully," he growled. "My associate transferred that ten-million-dollar debt to me. From now on, I own you."

A cruel smirk twisted his lips.

"You know what kind of man I am. Ruthless. Unforgiving. And now that this debt is mine, it accrues interest."

Sophia's stomach dropped.

She had expected this.

Ethan would make her suffer—worse than death. The kindness he'd shown her six years ago had only been because she'd cared for his dying mother. Now, there was nothing left between them but cruelty.

Even knowing that, facing him now, hearing those words—her hands trembled.

A sharp, unnameable pain lanced through her chest.

"...How much interest?" she whispered.

His laugh was cold. "Three million a year. And that's me being generous."

Sophia's breath hitched.

"Here's how this works," he continued, voice dripping with menace. "You please me, you earn more. Pay off your debt, and I might let your daughter go. I'm a man of my word."

His fingers traced her jaw, mockingly gentle.

"Of course... there's a shortcut."

Sophia stiffened. "Wh-what shortcut?"

His breath was hot against her ear. "Serve me well, and maybe I'll wipe your debt clean."

Before she could react, he flicked off the bedside lamp and yanked her against him. "Sleep."

Sophia lay rigid, barely daring to breathe.

She wanted to check on Lily, but Ethan's leg pinned her down, trapping her against his chest.

Exhaustion eventually pulled her under.

In her sleep, she instinctively sought warmth, curling against him. Back in Willowbrook County, she'd always slept hugging a long pillow. Now, half-asleep, she tangled her legs around his, clinging like ivy.

Ethan didn't sleep.

Six years.

Six years of searching, of rage, of sleepless nights—and now she was here, nestled against him like she belonged.

He should wake her. Should remind her of the cold words she'd thrown at him: "How many men do you want me to sleep with?"

He should strangle her.

Instead, he scoffed at himself.

Pathetic.

"If I wanted you dead," he muttered to her sleeping form, "you'd already be gone. Do you know how many women in this city would kill to be in your place?"

A soft whimper escaped her.

"...Pillow," she mumbled, shifting restlessly.

With a grunt, Ethan lifted his leg, letting her use it as a substitute. She settled instantly.

He exhaled sharply, then pulled her closer, pressing his lips to her hair.

Only then did he finally sleep.

Dawn broke over Harborview City.

Sophia stirred, momentarily disoriented. For a blissful second, she thought she was back in Willowbrook.

"Lily," she murmured sleepily, "time for school..."

Then her fingers brushed warm skin instead of bedding.

Her eyes flew open.

And she froze.