Sophia hesitated, lips parting as if to speak, but it was Derek who barked impatiently, his brows furrowed.
"Do you see that, Lucian? Your sister knows how to put the family first. Not like you—always going against us!"
"Dad, I'm not begging you."
Elena pulled an old pure-gold ring from her bag and toyed with it between her fingers. Her voice was steady, but her eyes gleamed coldly.
"If you give me the invitation, I'll gladly slip this ring onto Sophia's finger myself. Otherwise…" Her smile sharpened. "I won't mind swallowing it whole right now."
Her words dropped like stones into a still pond.
"If Sophia doesn't have this ring, the Sterlings will never accept her. She'll never even set foot in their house. If I can't have it—then no one will."
Sophia's eyes widened. She clenched her fists, forcing a fragile calm into her voice.
"Dad… didn't Elena say she lost that ring two nights ago? Why is it still with her?"
She turned to Elena, blinking back tears.
"Do you know how humiliating it was? Father and I were crawling on the ground, searching for that ring for two whole days. We nearly became the laughingstock of Southville!"
The memory of his own debasement—hands scraping dirt, knees pressed to the filthy pavement—ignited Derek's rage. His chest heaved.
"You ungrateful wretch! You dare trick your own father?"
Elena spun the ring idly, utterly unbothered.
"We all know exactly what kind of family the Sterlings are. To think they'd welcome Sophia with open arms? Ridiculous."
She tilted her head, her tone mocking.
"But if Sophia can't marry into the Chengs, well… what a pity. Dad, you'd better weigh what matters more."
Ten minutes later, Elena stormed out of the Song estate with the invitation clutched in her hand, her ties with the family finally, irreversibly severed.
She hadn't planned to steal it. She'd only wanted Derek to take her along. But they'd left her no choice.
Pain burned across her cheek like fire. She staggered to the roadside and spat into a trash bin.
"Damn it. Hurts like hell."
At that exact moment, a car slowed as it passed. Behind the wheel, Adrian caught everything. He lowered his gaze, then dialed a number.
"Lucian," he drawled into the phone, "I just saw Elena."
On the other end, silence. Heavy, suffocating silence.
Adrian smirked faintly. "It's remote here. She won't be able to find a cab. Want me to give her a ride?"
The voice that erupted through the speaker was a growl, low and violent.
"Stay the hell away from her. She's not yours to touch."
Adrian chuckled. "Relax. It's just a ride. She and I are old acquaintances, after all—"
"Shut. Up."
The line crackled with Lucian's fury.
Adrian sighed. "Fine, fine. Don't get so worked up. But I'll say this—her face is badly swollen. Looks like her dear family roughed her up. Shouldn't you be the one to—"
The call cut off. Dead tone.
Adrian stared at his phone, lips curving in amusement. He deliberately slowed his car, and just as he reached the edge of the suburbs, a sleek black Audi shot past him. One glance at the license plate was enough. Lucian.
"Really now?" Adrian muttered, pressing his horn twice in greeting.
But the Audi didn't stop. It roared ahead, engine screaming, leaving only dust and the echo of its fury.
Adrian's smile deepened. So it matters that much to you, huh?
Meanwhile, Elena had nowhere to go. The hospital was out of the question—too risky. So she dragged herself toward Vivian's apartment. Vivian had given her a spare key long ago, though Elena rarely used it, unwilling to impose.
She assumed Vivian would be asleep at this hour. All the better—she could slip inside unseen. But just as she reached the door, it opened from within.
"Elena?" Vivian froze, a trash bag slipping from her hands. Her eyes widened at the bruises on Elena's face. "God—did Sophia do this to you?"
Elena forced a smile, but the pain twisted it into a grimace.
"Son of a bitch!" Vivian cursed, her temper flaring. For once, her gentle demeanor vanished, replaced by raw fury. "That bitch—how dare she? I'll skin her alive!"
"No, don't—"
Elena grabbed her arm quickly. "Vivian, don't. This is Sean's most critical moment. If you lash out now, she'll retaliate through him."
Vivian trembled with barely contained rage. "But why should you swallow this? Why should she get away with it?"
Elena's eyes hardened, though her smile remained soft.
"It's fine. Let her laugh for now. I won't let her keep it forever."
She paused, lowering her voice. "Promise me one thing—don't tell Selene. If she finds out, she'll be on the next flight back, storming in here fists first."
Vivian's throat tightened. She studied her friend, sorrow welling in her chest.
"Elena… you've changed. Ever since eight years ago—"
"Vivian…" Elena cut her off, leaning gently against her shoulder like a child seeking comfort. Her voice softened to a plea. "My face hurts. Will you get me an ice pack?"
Vivian sighed deeply, the fire in her chest dimming to embers. "Fine. Go lie down on the sofa. I'll get it for you."
As she walked away, Elena gazed out into the night. Darkness pressed against the windows, endless and heavy.
That same night, the Sinclair family's banquet blazed in full glory. The hall glittered with chandeliers, crystal glasses clinking, laughter echoing like music. Men in sharp suits and women in gowns floated across the red carpet, radiant under the lights.
From the third-floor balcony, Adrian leaned lazily against the railing. His eyes swept the crowd until they caught a flash of beige silk. His lips curved.
"Well, well. Elena's here."
The man beside him said nothing. His gaze locked onto her, unwavering.
She moved through the crowd in a backless gown, skin luminous beneath the lights. Even from above, her bare shoulders and the smooth line of her spine were clear as day.
Adrian chuckled, his tone deliberately teasing. "So you've noticed her too. I have to say, it's my first time seeing her dressed like this. That back—Goddamn."
The man's eyes turned to ice. His voice dropped, low and deadly.
"You want to die?"
Adrian raised his brows innocently. "What? I can't even give a compliment?"
But Lucian was already turning, one hand in his pocket, his expression dark as storm clouds. He walked away without another word, leaving Adrian with nothing but a retreating back.
"Wait up, Lucian!" a woman in an emerald gown hurried after him, skirts gathered in her hands, her laugh sweet as honey.
Adrian only smirked, shrugging as he descended toward the hall.
On the ground floor, Elena searched the courtyard and the banquet hall again and again, but there was no sign of Lucian. Her chest tightened with unease.
Ethan had told her Lucian would be here tonight. But knowing him… there was every chance he'd change his mind at the last moment. And if he didn't show—then what about Sean…?