Chapter 106

Sophia Laurent arched an eyebrow at William Lowell's smug expression, her lips curling into a mocking smile.

"When did I say I'd hide this from the Valdemars?"

William stiffened at her unexpected retort, his brows knitting together.

"William." She tapped the corridor to her right. "The restroom mirror is polished enough for you to see your own hypocrisy."

The man's artificial smile froze.

"Without Pearl Group backing you," he slammed the table as he stood, "what makes you think you're anything? As family, I'll give you one last warning—"

"Are you so certain," Sophia interrupted smoothly, "the founder would choose you over me?"

William snorted through his nose. "Business runs on profit. I'll bankrupt myself if I must to make you beg."

He'd never forget the slap she'd delivered in public.

"Fine." Sophia adjusted her skirt as she rose. "I'll be waiting."

The chandelier's fractured light danced behind her like scattered stars.

Dusk draped Villa Tuscany's arched rooftops as the black Maybach sped toward the suburbs. Sophia trailed her fingers along the carved wooden windows, catching fractured sunbeams.

"Braised sturgeon requires slow simmering." She closed the gilded menu. "Serve the other dishes when ready."

The waiter stole a glance at the lone diner—she stirred dragon well tea in a celadon cup as if awaiting a spectacle.

The door burst open just as sweet-and-sour ribs' aroma reached Richard Lowell's nostrils.

"You—!"

William's roar startled koi fish outside the window.

Richard's shaking fingers dialed a number. "Leonard Roland! I demanded to meet Pearl Group's—"

"Met her?" Leonard's chuckle crackled through the line.

"This is a joke?" Richard glared at Sophia picking crab meat, jaw clenched. "How could this girl possibly—"

Leonard's voice struck like a slap:

"Why couldn't she be?"