“Sophia?” A low voice cut through the silence.

Isabella spun around to find Lucas standing at the dimly lit end of the hallway, his brow furrowed, eyes icy.

“What are you doing here?” Lucas demanded sharply. His sudden appearance wiped the smug expression off Sophia’s face.

She blinked, caught off guard, but quickly composed herself. Defiance flickered in her eyes before settling into their usual arrogance.

“Lucas, what a surprise,” she said, her tone dripping with false sweetness. “Still playing the hero for Isabella after all this time?”

His expression darkened. “What are you up to, Sophia?”

A sneer twisted her lips. “Up to? Just visiting an old friend. But you—still chasing after Isabella after three years? How… devoted.”

She dragged out the last word, heavy with sarcasm, mocking his unreturned feelings.

Lucas clenched his fists, jaw tight. “Whatever you think is happening between us, you’re wrong.”

Sophia raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Really? Then tell me, Lucas—whose child is that?” Her gaze fixed on Eleanor’s apartment door, the question hanging like a threat.

Lucas drew a sharp breath, struggling to stay calm. He couldn’t let her discover the truth. He couldn’t risk her telling Ethan.

“That’s Isabella’s private business,” he said tightly. “It has nothing to do with you.”

“Private? Sounds more like a scandal,” Sophia shot back scornfully. “Open your eyes, Lucas. Don’t let her fool you!”

Frustration surged, but he held back. He couldn’t risk Ethan showing up.

“Enough, Sophia,” he warned. “Stay out of it. She wants peace. Let her have it. Don’t come near her again.”

She laughed harshly. “Peace? Then why come back to New York? Face it—you’re blind to how she’s using you!”

Lucas’s eyes narrowed coldly. “That’s none of your concern. Get out of here.”

Turning, Sophia strode to her car parked along the curb. She paused, throwing him a meaningful look. “If you love her, you better act fast. You’re not the only one interested.”

With that, she slid into the car and sped away.

Lucas stood watching her taillights vanish, worry etching his face. After a moment, he turned and walked to Eleanor’s apartment.

He knocked softly, heart pounding. When the door opened, Isabella stood there, tired but smiling.

“Lucas, what are you doing here so late?” she asked quietly.

“I wanted to check on you and your grandmother,” he said, stepping inside. “How is she?”

“She’s resting. Already asleep,” Isabella whispered, her gaze lowering. “Sophia was here earlier.”