Chapter 69

Sophia stood frozen as Liam Sterling approached her with that familiar arrogant smirk. "Sophia, your instincts are sharp," he drawled. "How did you know this yacht party would be crawling with Harborview's elite tonight?"

She ignored his mocking tone, forcing a polite smile. "Mr. Sterling, I haven’t seen you at the office lately. Have you been busy?"

"Miss me?" Liam tilted his head, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Not particularly."

"Then why are you here?" His voice turned sharp, laced with skepticism. "I’ve been preparing for this event. The Sterling name must shine where Harborview’s wealthiest gather, after all."

Sophia hesitated. "I... wasn’t looking for you."

"Oh?" Liam’s smirk widened. "Don’t tell me you came for Alexander Kensington? Let me spare you the disappointment—his grandfather locked him up today. The Thorntons don’t want their heir near a woman like you."

He wasn’t wrong.

Alexander had been ready to attend until his grandfather intercepted him at the door.

"Alex! You’re not fooling anyone with this yacht nonsense!" The old man’s voice was steel. "You’re going to see that gold-digger, aren’t you?"

"Grandfather, you were the one who invited her to dinner last week!" Alexander argued. "Besides, Sophia wouldn’t even be allowed on that yacht!"

The elder Thornton scoffed. "I’ve seen her. Cheap makeup, desperate eyes—nothing like your aunt. And I’ve heard she’s scheming to trap you tonight. Over my dead body!"

With that, Alexander was confined to his study, the door locked from the outside.

Confused and frustrated, he called Liam, asking him to watch for Sophia at the party.

Now, Liam studied Sophia’s tense expression with amusement. "No explanation for me?"

She lowered her gaze and walked past him into the glittering chaos.

Inside, Charlotte Kensington appeared, smirking as she led Sophia to a dimly lit storage room. "Here’s your costume," she said, tossing a pile of scandalous outfits at her. "And a makeup artist. Play your role well, and you might earn a fortune tonight."

Left alone, Sophia stared at the revealing fabrics. Each piece was more vulgar than the last.

She chose the most modest one—a demure schoolgirl outfit—but even then, the heavy makeup made her skin crawl.

When she stepped out, Charlotte’s laugh was cruel. "How quaint. But who’ll tip you for being boring?"

She dragged Sophia to a circle of wealthy socialites. "Meet our entertainment for the evening! Order whatever pose or outfit you like—just keep it civilized."

The crowd erupted in laughter.

"Tear that dress off!" someone jeered.

Sophia’s hands trembled around her tray.

Liam, watching from the sidelines, turned to Noah Whitmore. "Should I rescue her? Might make her more... interesting."

Noah chuckled. "Go for it."

But before Liam could move, a figure cut through the crowd.

Ethan Blackwood.

In one swift motion, he draped his suit jacket over Sophia’s shoulders and pulled her close.

The room fell silent.

"Mr. Blackwood?" someone gasped.

His icy glare silenced them all.