Chapter 229

Sophia felt a flush of embarrassment but complied with Margaret's arrangements.

True to her reputation, Margaret was a skilled family nurse with professional techniques and a compassionate heart. She tended to Sophia with gentle care.

Sophia couldn't help but feel self-conscious.

Margaret smiled warmly. "Madam, you're so modest. No wonder Mr. Blackwood adores you."

Sophia remained silent.

"Madam," Margaret called.

"Yes?" Though Sophia knew she wasn't truly his wife, she didn't correct the title. Arguing would be pointless.

"I believe little Lilly would love siblings. With Mr. Blackwood's wealth, one child won't be enough. You must take care of yourself for future pregnancies. Stay still—I'll apply the suppository now."

Sophia froze in place.

Once done, Margaret instructed, "Madam, you must rest in bed for at least an hour."

Sophia buried her face under the covers and mumbled, "Understood."

Margaret tactfully excused herself, leaving Sophia alone in Ethan's massive bed. Without him beside her, she drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Later, a knock jolted her awake.

"Madam," Margaret's voice came through the door.

"Yes?" Sophia sat up, feeling significantly better. Margaret's gentle touch had worked wonders.

"Madam, the boutique delivered your clothes. Would you like to try them on?"

Clothes?

Yes!

She desperately needed them. Wearing nothing but Ethan's oversized shirt, she couldn't possibly leave the penthouse.

Had Ethan arranged this?

A warm flutter stirred in her chest.

She hastily slipped into his shirt and padded out in his slippers. Two impeccably dressed women stood in the living room, their eyes widening with envy at the sight of her.

Disheveled hair, sleep-softened features, drowning in a man's shirt—yet the effect was undeniably alluring. The loose fabric emphasized her delicate frame, while the scattered strawberry marks on her neck and exposed legs left no doubt about Ethan's possessiveness.

The women exchanged glances but remained professional. They had been sent by Nathan Carter, Ethan's assistant, to serve his wife. In the Blackwood residence, they dared not speak out of turn.

"Madam," one greeted gracefully. "Shall we assist you in the dressing room? If anything doesn't fit, we can arrange replacements. Though Mr. Blackwood assured us he knows your measurements—especially your waist. He said he could span it with his hands."

Sophia's cheeks burned.

His hands had memorized every curve of her.

Mortified, she avoided their eyes. "Okay."

Margaret guided them to Ethan's private dressing room. Within minutes, Sophia was dressed in a perfectly fitted ensemble.

"Mr. Blackwood has impeccable taste," one woman praised. "Every piece suits you flawlessly, Madam."

The other nodded. "The fit is neither too tight nor loose—just right for your elegance."

"Thank you," Sophia replied quietly.

"It's our pleasure, Madam. Shall we take our leave?"

Sophia nodded.

The outfit, paired with flats, felt comfortable and flattering. His eye for style was undeniable.

But why would a man who saw her as repayment treat her so well?

Her phone rang. Ethan's deep voice filled her ear. "Awake?"

"Yes."

"Feeling better?"

Sophia hesitated.

"I need to ask you something."

"Will you let me work to repay my debt once I recover? Or are these clothes just another way to control me?"

Silence.

Then—snap—the sound of a gold Parker pen breaking.

Ethan hurled the unsigned contract across his office, startling his secretary. "Terminate dealings with this company. Now."

The secretary paled. "But sir, the contract—"

"Did I stutter?"

The secretary fled.

Meanwhile, Sophia remained oblivious. "Still, thank you for the clothes."

Click. The line went dead.

Sophia sighed. She didn't care if he was angry—she had clothes now. She needed to see Lilly.

"Madam, you should rest!" Margaret called after her.

But Sophia was already in the elevator.

The moment she stepped outside, a venomous voice stopped her.

"Sophia! I knew you'd be here!"

Isabella Thornton stood before her, dripping in jewels, her beauty sharper and more vicious than six years ago.

Sophia's heart ached.

Margaret called her "Madam." But if she was Ethan's wife, what did that make Isabella?

The irony stung.

Yet Sophia lifted her chin and smirked. "Isabella, not only do I live here—I share Ethan's bed. We're de facto lovers. Understand? He adores me now. He even had these clothes delivered. Do you like them?"

Isabella's face twisted. "You shameless—!"

"Shameless?" Sophia laughed coldly. "You knew that six years ago. Or did you forget how your father sold me to Ethan?"

Isabella recoiled, then hissed, "You're beneath ants! He only keeps you as a toy!"

Sophia's smile turned razor-sharp. "Isabella, I never hated your family—until you stole my child's father. Now? I'll destroy you all, even if I have to crawl through hell to do it."

For a second, fear flickered in Isabella's eyes. But she quickly rallied. "Fool! The Thorntons are the second-wealthiest family in Harborview. My grandfather, William Thornton, hates you. He'd sooner see you dead!"

Sophia's gaze turned glacial. "Then let him try."