CHAPTER 65: A TASTE OF THEIR OWN MEDICINE

A few hours later—

Ethan slowly came to.

The first thing he saw was the rope tied tightly around his wrists.

"You’re awake?"

Sophia’s voice was hoarse, low, almost dangerous. She was wearing an oversized white shirt—it was Lucas’s.

"Sophia, you—"

"Ethan," she interrupted, her tone cold, "you really never learn, do you? Teaming up with Aiden to drug me?"

"No! Sophia, that’s not what happened—please, let me explain!"

She gave a small, chilling laugh. "Explain? Do I look stupid enough to believe you?"

Sophia walked closer, something small and unfamiliar in her hand—a stick of burning incense. She exhaled softly, letting the faint smoke curl between them.

"Sophia, what are you doing? I was wrong, I admit it—I just... I love you, that’s all!"

"Love?" she repeated, her lips curving into a razor-sharp smile. "Perfect. Because I love this version of you—pathetic and tied up."

"Is it done?"

The deep male voice came from behind her. Lucas stepped out of the bathroom, shirtless, the light glancing off the muscles of his chest.

Ethan’s eyes widened. "Lucas? You—it was you!"

"Surprised to see me?" Lucas’s tone was lazy, almost amused. "Ethan, it seems I’ll need to take another look at that contract your Trump Group signed with me."

Just the mention of that contract made Ethan’s blood run cold. The Trump family’s biggest deal depended on Lucas—if he pulled out, they were finished.

"I’m done here," Sophia said calmly. "Now, where’s the person I asked for?"

"Outside."

Lucas opened the door. A young man stepped in, attractive, delicate-looking, moving with a kind of practiced grace.

"Mr. Hilton, is this the guy you mentioned?"

Sophia lifted her hand, blocking his view of Lucas. "Eyes over here. You don’t get to look at him."

The boy pouted slightly, disappointed. He’d wanted a longer look at the legendary Mr. Hilton.

But when his gaze shifted to Ethan, his eyes lit up. Not as handsome as Lucas—but good enough.

"What—what are you doing?!" Ethan stammered. His body felt hot, his muscles weak—he couldn’t even lift a finger.

"You like using dirty tricks?" Sophia said sweetly. "Perfect. I believe in karma. Eye for an eye. But watching you suffer alone sounds boring... so I brought in a co-star."

She checked her watch, then loosened the rope around his wrists. With a hard tug, Ethan collapsed onto the bed.

"Don’t! Don’t you dare—"

Sophia turned to the young man. "Go ahead."

He grinned, shrugged off his shirt, and began positioning Ethan in various humiliating poses.

"You can’t—You’ll regret this! I’ll have you both arrested!" Ethan roared.

"Oh, really?" Sophia tilted her head. "Then let’s see who the court believes. I charge you with attempted assault—how long do you think that sentence will be?"

She lifted her phone and started snapping photos, each one worse than the last. Her stomach turned, but she didn’t stop.

"Now, let’s record a little something for evidence."

"Sophia! I’ll never forgive you for this!" Ethan’s face twisted with rage, humiliation, and the effect of the drug.

"Funny," she murmured, focusing the camera, "I was just about to say the same thing."

A few minutes later, she finally nodded. "That’s enough. You can stop."

But the young man’s eyes gleamed with mischief. "Miss Morgan, can I... keep him?"

Sophia arched a brow. "He’s not exactly an innocent bunny. You sure?"

"Of course."

Sophia let out a short, amused breath. "Fine. He’s all yours."

She waved casually, grabbed Lucas by the wrist, and pulled him toward the door.

Click.

The lock slid into place behind them.

She was still wearing his shirt. Lucas’s gaze darkened, deep and unreadable.

"Sophia," he said slowly, his tone laced with quiet arrogance, "how many times have I saved you now?"

It sounded suspiciously like he wanted credit for it.

Sophia arched a brow, leaning casually against the wall as her eyes met his. "And what—am I supposed to thank you for it? Or do you think I took advantage of you?"

He tilted his head, lips curling faintly. "Didn’t you?"

She let out a short laugh. "Lucas, you really have no shame."

Without another glance, she strode toward the door. Moments later, something warm fell over her shoulders—his jacket.

"Use the private exit," Lucas said, his voice calm and low. "Harper’s waiting in the basement."

When Harper finally saw them together, she nearly burst into tears.

Oh. My. God.

Her worst fear had come true.

"Sophia, you—you’re okay, right?"

Sophia’s expression didn’t change. "Pretty much what you’re imagining. Now move—paparazzi’s on their way."

She grabbed the spare outfit from her bag, threw it on, pulled her cap low, and slipped out the back door.

By the time she stepped past the hotel’s front entrance, a swarm of paparazzi came storming in, shouting her name.

"Should we go back to City A now?" Harper asked, breathless.

"No," Sophia said flatly. "I need to stay a couple more days."

She’d only just come face-to-face with the Wright family—and there was still tonight’s banquet to attend.

"But what if Ethan—"

"Ethan’s finished. Once his scandal breaks, he’ll crawl back to City A. The real problem is Aiden. He and Ethan are working together."

She glanced out the window, voice cold. "Which means the entire Trump family’s in on it—they’re all on the same sinking ship."

Aiden probably had no idea what had just happened. If he knew Lucas had shown up at the last second, his face would’ve gone pale green.

Sophia stole a quick look at the man beside her.

Back then—when everything went black—there had been a moment of pure, choking despair.

She’d actually imagined ten different ways to kill Ethan.

And yet... he’d appeared. Right on time. Again.

"You’re trying to figure out how to thank me?" Lucas’s teasing voice brushed against her ear.

Sophia shot him a glare. "Do you ever stop being insufferable?"

"Think about it carefully," he drawled. "If I hadn’t shown up tonight, what would’ve happened to you?"

Sophia lowered her head, her silence saying more than words.

Then suddenly, she felt a light touch on her wrist.

Lucas was slipping her watch back on—the one she’d dropped.

"Guess this little thing saved you," he said softly. "Try not to lose it again."

Sophia’s breath caught. She clutched her wrist, staring at him in disbelief.

A long, heavy silence filled the car. Then, almost too quietly to hear, she murmured, "Thank you."

Lucas’s lips curved faintly.

By the time they returned to the venue, the fashion show had ended and the place was deserted. Night had fallen completely.

"They’re at the HY Hotel," Harper said, taking the driver’s seat and speeding off.

Alex was already waiting outside when they arrived, handing them a garment bag.

"Where should I change?" Sophia asked.

Lucas gave her a sidelong glance—and started unbuttoning his shirt.

Sophia covered her eyes instantly, exasperated. "Do you ever stop being shameless?"

He smirked. "This isn’t the first time you’ve seen my body."

"..."

He changed fast, stepping out first. A few minutes later, Sophia emerged as well.

"After you," he said, offering his arm.

She hesitated for half a second, then placed her hand on it.

Her long hair fell loosely over her shoulders, hiding the faint marks on her neck. Together, they stepped through the doors.

The grand hall gleamed with gold light and false smiles—every person inside harboring secrets of their own.

But Sophia wasn’t afraid of deceit. She wanted to see it—how people who did wrong could still pretend to live so peacefully.

A slow smile curved her lips.

Her war with the world had only just begun.