Victor Sullivan stood outside Sophia Laurent's residence for what felt like an eternity.

His legs felt like lead weights, each step an excruciating effort.

His chauffeur spotted him from a distance and immediately pulled the car over, opening the door with deference.

Just as Victor was about to step inside, he hesitated. "Did you leave the car unattended?"

The driver blinked. "I ran to the convenience store for cigarettes."

Victor's expression darkened.

The memory of Sophia's frenzied glare flashed through his mind. What if she had tampered with the fuel tank?

The wealthier one was, the more one feared death.

He turned and hailed a taxi—his first time ever doing so.

The cramped interior reeked of cheap perfume, making him grimace.

Back at the office, he immediately ordered his locks changed and covert surveillance installed.

Even his personal vehicle was sent to the dealership for a full inspection.

Meanwhile, Sophia sat in the airport terminal, clutching her boarding pass.

Her bodyguards kept their distance.

She was a volcano on the verge of eruption.

When Ethan Sullivan arrived, he found her curled into herself on a chair.

Her phone was nearly crushed in her grip, her eyes bloodshot.

"I arranged a private jet," he said softly.

Sophia jerked her head up. "No!"

"Why?"

"That's the Sullivan family's plane. Disgusting!"

Ethan reached for her, but she recoiled as if burned.

"This is all my fault!" Sophia suddenly struck her own face. "If I hadn't been so weak, Mom wouldn't be—"

The sharp slap drew stares.

Red fingerprints bloomed across her cheek.

Ethan caught her wrist, heart aching. "Hit me instead."

She wrenched free and stepped back. "Stay away from me!"

Those words cut deeper than any physical blow.

Ethan swallowed hard. "We don't have all the facts yet—"

"It was him!" Her voice shook. "He threatened Mom repeatedly. I'll repay the billion dollars—just stop hurting us."

Wordlessly, Ethan pulled her into his arms.

The embrace lasted an eternity.

Like a final farewell.

"Call off the bodyguards," Sophia pushed him away. "Before I met you, I was never in danger."

The words pierced Ethan's heart like a blade.

Two hours later, Sophia boarded her flight alone.

Ethan followed in his private jet.

——

California Hospital corridor.

Through the ICU glass, Sophia saw her mother tethered to machines.

Her legs buckled; she braced against the wall.

"Did you call the police?" Her voice was raw.

Kyle Grant nodded. "The attacker was professional. No traces left."

"Victor Sullivan—"

"No evidence means no arrest."

Sophia covered her face in anguish.

Kyle gently patted her back. "Get some rest."

"I'm staying until Mom wakes up."

"The doctors said..." Kyle trailed off.

Sophia swayed, and he steadied her.

At the corridor's end, Ethan watched silently.

His knuckles whitened, but he didn't approach.

When Kyle went to pay the medical fees, he found an extra five million deposited.

The man described by the staff was all too familiar.