The Man Who Destroyed Me Is Now Begging to Mend Me 29

Lucas strode over, medical ice pack in hand, noticing the strange looks on the two faces and asking, “What’s wrong?”

Annabelle said quickly, “Nothing. Why are you back? Why not head upstairs to see your sweetheart?”

“Don’t talk nonsense. My only sweetheart is my wife,” replied Lucas.

He furrowed his brow, his gaze fixed on Sophia. Seeing she wasn’t looking at him, his irritation grew. “I got a medical ice pack from the nurse.”

“Give it to me, Mr. Westwood. Go ahead. Sophie doesn’t want to see you now.” Annabelle took the ice pack and urged him to leave.

Lucas pressed his lips together. “Sophie, when you’ve cooled down, I’ll pick you up and take you home.”

Sophia turned her head away, pretending not to hear him.

Annabelle waved at Lucas. “Go on, I’ll take care of her.”

As Lucas walked away, Annabelle nearly collapsed. “I was terrified; I thought he’d heard us.”

Sophia sighed in relief, too. “Let’s get out of here; we should leave the hospital.”

Sophia sank into the seat of Annabelle’s Mercedes G-Class. Annabelle handed her the ice pack wrapped in a towel. “Put this on your face-it’s as red as a beet.”

Sophia took it and pressed it to her cheek; the coolness eased the flush.

Annabelle complained, “David, that hothead, really went overboard. If I didn’t know you were related by blood, I’d think he was hitting an enemy.”

Sophia closed her eyes. David’s look flashed in her mind, and she gave a bitter smile. “I forced his precious sister to go abroad; naturally, he considers me an enemy.”

“I don’t get it,” Annabelle fumed. “You’re his real sister; why is he siding against you?”

Sophia replied, “Probably he looks down on me because I grew up in a poor place.”

“Bullshit,” Annabelle snapped, furious. “If you and Emily hadn’t been switched at birth, how could you have ended up growing up there?”

“Let’s drop it,” Sophia said, not wanting to dwell on thoughts that would only bring trouble.

Annabelle pursed her lips, eyeing Sophia’s still-flat stomach. “What about the baby? Won’t

you tell Lucas?”

“No,” Sophia murmured. “Telling him would just make the divorce messier.” She wasn’t sure about Lucas’s stance, but Helen would never allow a Westwood child to be cast aside.

Annabelle had just found out Sophia was pregnant, and her feelings were all over the place. She kept it to herself. “As long as you’ve thought it through. Anyway, are you hungry? Let’s grab a bite.”

She glanced at her watch. It was dinner time. She figured after that scare and David’s blow, Sophia was starving.

Sophia gave a light nod. “Okay.”

They had dinner out. Back home, Annabelle brewed a pot of warm lemon-honey water to settle their

stomachs.

She had just stepped out of the kitchen when she noticed Sophia on the phone. She shot her a questioning glance. Sophia silently mouthed, “My dad,” and Annabelle caught it.

On the other end, Charles’s voice was tinged with guilt. “Sophie, you were treated unfairly today. Don’t worry. I’ll handle David and make him apologize to you.”

Sophia’s gaze was icy. “No need for an apology.”

Charles said, “You’re so considerate, not making it hard for me. Come by the office tomorrow. It’s been too long since we last had lunch together.”

Three years ago, Sophia would’ve agreed without hesitation. But right then, she didn’t want to go.

“I’ve got things to—”

Before she could finish, Charles cut in, “Emily told me you quit. Are you avoiding lunch because you’re still mad at me?”

Sophia gritted her teeth. Despite her resistance, she agreed in the end.

After hanging up, she sank back into the sofa. Annabelle handed her a cup of warm lemon-honey water. “Have something sweet; it’ll help you feel better.”

Sophia sighed deeply and murmured, “Do we really need to go to this lunch? He never showed this much concern for me before.”

Charles was the head of the family, running the large Evans Group. He rarely stayed home. Over three years, Sophia had seen him only a handful of times, and he was never warm to her.

After years of abuse from her adoptive father, she didn’t know how to connect with Charles.

For years, their relationship had been awkward. Now that he suddenly wanted to get close, it made her feel

uneasy.

Annabelle said, “He is your father, after all. What father wouldn’t love his own child?”

Sophia sipped her warm lemon-honey water, its sweet-tart flavor soothing her. “Sometimes, I wonder if the paternity test was wrong. Maybe I’m not the baby from the Evans family who was taken away back then.”

Annabelle replied, “That can’t be right.”

Sophia muttered, “Who knows? Back then, my adoptive parents never treated me as family, and here at the Evans’, it’s no different.”

It was almost laughable-in the three years since she returned, she’d spent every Christmas all alone.

Annabelle hugged her gently. “If they don’t see you as family, you’ve still got me. I’ll always be there for you.”

Sophia smiled, “Thank you.”

The next day, around noon, Sophia drove to the Evans Group. After parking, she took the elevator up. As she stepped out, Charles’s secretary, who had been waiting, saw her and hurried over.

He said, “Ms. Evans, Mr. Evans has a visitor in his office. He asked me to have you wait in the reception area for a while. He’ll see you right after.”

Sophia glanced at the office. Through the glass door, she could vaguely see a man in a black suit seated in the bright office. Her view was blocked, so she could only see the neatly trimmed, rounded back of his head.

Sophia followed the secretary to the sofa and sat down. After bringing her a coffee and asking her to wait a moment, the guy returned to his duties.

Feeling bored, Sophia pulled out her phone and started a game. Midway through, Charles’s office door opened, and he personally saw the guest out.

Distracted, Sophia looked up, and the man’s strikingly handsome features caught her eye. Her breath hitched as she wondered, ‘Why him?’

By her count, it was their fourth chance encounter. The first three times, she’d been in embarrassing situations. Given the pattern, she was bound to have bad luck.

Richard looked up, his gaze fixing directly on Sophia’s face. Noticing the fading handprint on her cheek, he frowned slightly.

Charles was sharp; when the other two’s eyes met, he sensed something unusual immediately. “Do you know my daughter, Mr. Sterling?” he asked.

Richard averted his eyes, his deep voice cold. “No.”

Charles’s face fell, but he quickly composed himself and warmly walked Richard to the elevator lobby.

Sophia watched them leave, her gaze drifting back to the game on her screen, though her thoughts were elsewhere. ‘I’m not really acquainted with Mr. Sterling. I only shamelessly crashed at his place for a night.’

Mark