Theodore Valentine's shout pierced the air. "Isabella!" His icy glare swept over Sophia before he turned and chased after his daughter.

The garden fell silent once more.

Sophia suddenly wrapped her arms around Ethan Sullivan's waist, burying her face in his chest. Tears soaked through his shirt as she bit her lip to stifle her sobs.

"Crying?" He gently lifted her chin with his fingertips.

She turned her face away, her nose tinged red.

Ethan brushed away the tear at the corner of her eye with his thumb. "Keep crying, and your eyes will swell like walnuts tomorrow."

"Why are you so good to me?" Her voice trembled.

He chuckled softly. "This is what you call 'good'? You're too easy to please, Sophia."

"Answer me," she pressed stubbornly.

His gaze darkened as he ruffled her hair. "Your grandmother is ill. Your mother is too soft-hearted. If I don’t protect you, who will?"

The words cut through her heart like a dull blade.

"Is it worth it?" she whispered.

He understood the unspoken question and pulled her closer. "Businessmen value profit, but conscience is priceless."

Sophia clenched his shirt in her fists, her nails digging into her palms. Isabella was right—some people were born winners.

Back at the museum, Iris Evans sidled up to her, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. "I heard that was the second son of the Sullivan Group? Are you two related?"

Sophia opened her mouth but only managed a quiet "Mm." She couldn’t bring herself to explain the marriage that was about to end.

In the restoration room, experts argued heatedly over repair techniques. Sophia sat in the corner, her thoughts drifting far away.

Her phone buzzed. A message from Ethan: [My mother wants to see us. I’m outside.]

Audrey Sullivan's bridal boutique occupied an entire commercial building. As the elevator ascended, Sophia watched the floor numbers flicker, her heartbeat quickening.

"You're here!" Audrey took her hand warmly. "I designed three wedding gowns for you. Let’s see which one you like."

Sophia’s fingers twitched. "Aunt Audrey, Ethan and I—"

"Call me Mom," Audrey interrupted. "If you can’t be my daughter-in-law, then be my daughter. You must accept this gown, or you’re insulting me."

The three designs on the screen took her breath away. Sophia chose the simplest one—a white gown with a train as light as clouds.

While the assistant took her measurements, Sophia’s gaze lingered on a display gown. Layers of tulle shimmered like pearls under the lights.

"Try it on?" Audrey encouraged.

In the fitting room, the assistant tied the silk ribbons at her back. The mirror reflected a vision in white—her skin like porcelain, her waist slender enough to encircle with one hand.

Ethan sat on the sofa, his eyes lingering on the delicate curve of her bare shoulder blades, his throat bobbing slightly.

"My future daughter-in-law is even more beautiful than the models," Audrey said as she adjusted the hem. Then she sighed. "Some people are truly blind."

Sophia shook her head quickly. "It’s not his fault."

"You spoil him too much," Audrey chided, shooting her son a glare.

As Sophia changed out of the gown, she overheard their conversation outside.

"If you can’t let her go, why not ask her to stay?"

"She’ll only suffer if she stays with me."

"What about your father—"

"I don’t want to put her in that position."

Sophia leaned against the door, tears splashing onto the back of her hand. She wanted to tell him that the nightmare no longer haunted her. But the divorce papers were already signed. It was too late for words.

When the assistant knocked to confirm the measurements, Sophia wiped her tears and practiced a smile in the mirror. Some loves were destined to remain hidden—like pristine white wedding gowns, wrapped in silent longing.