Chapter 119

The luxurious private room held only two people.

Vincent Holloway, a heavyset man in his sixties, loomed over Sophia Montgomery, who stood frail and trembling before him.

But what Liam Sterling and Noah Whitmore witnessed upon bursting in was the complete opposite.

Vincent lay curled on the floor, writhing in agony, a pool of fresh blood spreading beneath him.

Sophia gripped a shattered wine bottle, driving it into Vincent’s body with methodical precision. Each strike was brutal, deliberate.

Her eyes?

Ice-cold.

Liam and Noah froze in the doorway.

Spotting the two young heirs, Vincent dragged himself toward Liam, desperation in his voice. "Mr. Sterling! Save me! Call my men—have them restrain this lunatic! Kill her! I, Vincent Holloway, demand it!"

Liam said nothing.

Sophia lowered the broken bottle and met his gaze calmly. "Mr. Sterling, I meant to tell you this morning, but you were busy inspecting the construction site. I didn’t want to disturb you."

She exhaled softly. "I was going to repay the three thousand I owe you in two days. Now… you can take it from my wages yourself. It’s all yours."

Liam remained silent.

Sophia smiled bitterly, her voice hollow. "Call the police, Mr. Sterling. Or let this old man’s men beat me to death. I won’t resist."

She dropped the bottle.

No pleas. No fear. Just numb resignation.

That look—like the world had broken her so thoroughly she no longer cared to fight—pierced Liam’s chest.

Before he could think, he pulled her into his arms. "What nonsense are you spouting? You stubborn little fool! Didn’t I tell you to come to me if you were in trouble? Why didn’t you listen?"

His tone was mocking, but his grip was firm. "Or are you just playing hard to get? Trying to make me chase you?"

Sophia trembled.

This man—always teasing, always cruel—was the only one who’d ever helped her.

Tears spilled over. "Mr. Sterling…"

"Don’t cry," he scoffed, brushing her cheek. "Your tears are muddy. You’ll ruin my suit. This costs more than you’re worth."

A lie.

He’d always looked down on her. From the moment they met, he’d treated her like a plaything.

But this time, Sophia was grateful.

Behind them, Noah watched, stunned.

He’d heard Liam’s jaded analysis of Sophia a hundred times. He’d believed her to be exactly as Liam described.

Yet now, seeing her—small but unbroken—Noah felt something shift.

Her calm defiance. Her refusal to surrender, even when the world crushed her.

What kind of woman was this?

Noah stepped past Liam, eyeing Vincent with disdain. "Mr. Holloway, Liam is the sole heir of the Blackwood family. William Blackwood has made it clear—cross him, and you cross Ethan Blackwood."

He smirked. "Do you have a death wish?"

"She ruined me!" Vincent gasped, clutching his wounds.

"A man your age?" Liam sneered. "Consider it a mercy."

"But my injuries—"

"I’ll cover the bill," Liam cut in coldly.

Vincent’s glare flicked to Sophia. "That woman—"

"Is mine," Liam growled. "Touch her, and I’ll bury you."

Vincent fell silent as Liam led Sophia out.

Outside the club, Sophia stiffened when she saw the hospital bill—over twenty thousand.

Liam smirked. "Can’t pay me back now, can you? So… when are you moving in with me?"

Sophia met his gaze, her smile fragile. "Mr. Sterling, you’re too good for someone like me. I’d only taint you."

Liam’s grin turned predatory. "Answer me this—do you like me?"

That was all that mattered.

He’d spent fortunes, burned bridges, all to conquer her.

The game wasn’t fun unless she wanted him too.

"I do," Sophia whispered, tears shining. "Two years ago, I’d have thrown myself at your feet. I’d have died for you."

She stepped back. "I like you, Mr. Sterling."

Then she walked away.

Liam let her go.

He knew the rules—give her space, let her come to him.

But what he didn’t know?

Sophia never returned to her hotel.

At eleven that night, Ethan Blackwood stepped out of the elevator—and found her curled outside his door.

"Why are you here?" His voice was frost.