Victor Sullivan stormed out of the Laurent residence with a face like thunder.

Never in his life had he been so thoroughly humiliated.

Vincent Laurent's cold, detached demeanor was like a thorn lodged in his heart.

"Drive!" he barked at his chauffeur, barely containing his fury.

Eleanor Sullivan followed at a leisurely pace, eyeing him with amusement. "Can't handle a little rejection?"

Victor scoffed. "Who does Vincent Laurent think he is? How dare he treat me like that?"

Eleanor tapped her cane against the pavement with a dry chuckle. "You treated Sophia the same way years ago. What goes around comes around."

"I did it for Ethan's own good!"

"Bullshit!" Her cane struck the ground sharply. "You were just a snob who looked down on her background. Now that you know she's a Laurent heiress, you're groveling for favor. Serves you right!"

The accusation hit a nerve, darkening Victor's expression further.

"I offered a billion dollars! What more do they want?"

Eleanor snorted. "No amount of money can undo the hurt you caused. You should be on your knees begging for Sophia's forgiveness."

"Whose side are you on?"

"The side of common decency." She opened the car door. "Focus on getting those two remarried. I want great-grandchildren."

Silence filled the vehicle.

Victor stared at the passing scenery, his mind in turmoil.

He suddenly remembered Sophia's clear, guileless eyes when she first married into the Sullivan family.

How docile she'd been back then.

——

Inside the Laurent mansion, Sophia applied skincare before the mirror.

Ethan wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. "Vincent spoils you. Even your moisturizer is premium."

Sophia smiled faintly. "Yes, he's incredibly thoughtful."

Ethan's gaze flickered. Casually, he asked, "Do you two look alike?"

She considered this. "Our eyes are similar—both have double eyelids."

"Oh?" Releasing her, Ethan picked up a toothbrush from the vanity. "I'll bring Vincent a new one."

Sophia watched his retreating back in confusion.

——

Vincent was reviewing documents in his study when a knock interrupted him.

Seeing the toothbrush in Ethan's hand, he smiled knowingly.

"Still don't trust me?"

Ethan met his gaze squarely. "Where Sophia's concerned, I can't afford not to be thorough."

Vincent set down his pen and retrieved an envelope from the drawer. "Hair, nail clippings, and saliva samples. Enough for your DNA test."

The envelope felt heavy in Ethan's grasp.

"I hope you understand."

Vincent waved him off. "I do. Just..." He hesitated. "Whatever the results, please don't hurt Sophia."

Ethan nodded solemnly.

——

Back in the bedroom, Sophia had changed into coral silk pajamas that made her skin glow like snow.

"These pajamas Dad picked out are so comfortable." She twirled. "Do I look nice?"

Ethan's eyes darkened. "Beautiful."

His fingers traced her collarbone. "Though the neckline's a bit low."

Sophia swatted his hand away. "Jealous?"

Ethan pinned her to the bed. "What do you think?"

Their playfulness was interrupted by a knock.

Vincent stood outside with two glasses of warm milk. "This will help you sleep."

Sophia accepted hers, warmth flooding her chest.

Vincent studied her face for a long moment, as if wanting to say more.

"Dad? Is something wrong?"

"Nothing. Get some rest." He turned away, his silhouette strangely lonely.

Ethan eyed the milk pensively.

——

Late that night, Vincent drove alone to the outskirts.

The psychiatric hospital loomed ominously in the darkness.

Rolling down the window, he lit a cigarette.

Amid the swirling smoke, he dialed a number. "Commissioner Zhao, any new leads on that twenty-three-year-old case?"

A pause. Then: "Vincent... some things are better left buried."

Vincent crushed the cigarette, his gaze sharp as a blade.

"Not for me."