CHAPTER 73: A NEW DEAL

Sophia froze, staring at him in utter disbelief.

"What’s the matter, sweetheart? Shocked?"

"I’m more appalled—by how shameless you are," she snapped, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Let go of me."

"But I don’t want to let go."

"Lucas!"

Her tone could’ve cut glass.

He smirked. "If you keep looking at me with those adoring eyes, sweetheart, maybe we should consider having a few more kids?"

"You—!"

Sophia caught his wrist and, with her other hand, pressed against his shoulder blade—then twisted.

"Sophia!" he hissed, his muscles tightening in reflex.

"Do I need to tattoo our ground rules across your face to make you behave?"

Lucas narrowed his eyes.

She’d done this before—held him completely immobile, without even breaking a sweat.

In a sudden move, he shifted his weight, forcing her to step back and release him.

His grin returned, lazy and dangerous. "Sweetheart, you finally softened your heart."

She shot him a glare. "Enough nonsense. I brought you a few people from Wright Group—they’re talented. Take them."

Lucas straightened in his chair, regaining that composed CEO aura. "And why should I?"

"Why?" She folded her arms. "Because I worked my ass off to bring them here—for you."

"At Hilton Group, we don’t hire based on favors," he replied coolly. "We hire on merit. Or would you have me break company policy just to please you?"

"They have merit, or I wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of poaching them. One word—are you taking them or not? Because if not, they’ll be mine."

Lucas steepled his fingers, pretending to ponder her words.

But his mind was elsewhere—this wasn’t how he pictured the conversation.

Shouldn’t she be pouting by now? Maybe begging, maybe calling him "Mr. Hilton" in that sweet voice?

Instead, she stood there, sharp and unyielding—like an equal, not a lover.

He cleared his throat. "They’ll still have to go through assessment before—"

"Great," she interrupted, grabbing her bag. "Thank you, Mr. Hilton, for letting me recruit on your behalf."

Before he could respond, she was already walking toward the door.

He couldn’t help but ask, "Where are you going?"

"Back to Blackstone Manor."

Lucas arched a brow. "Before you do, there’s something you should know."

She glanced back, cautious. "What?"

"I think you’re doing a great job. So... how about we renew our contract?"

Sophia went completely still.

Lucas looked at her like a hunter toying with his prey, a quiet, knowing smile tugging at his lips.

"Lucas," she said slowly, "we both know this was just for fun. Don’t take it so seriously. I’ll pretend you said that out of... impulse. Goodbye."

With a dismissive wave, she turned and strode off.

Outside the door, six little heads immediately ducked out of sight.

"Mommy~"

"Come on, babies, we’re leaving."

As they walked away, Sophia’s heart was pounding.

Renew the contract?

No way. That couldn’t mean what it sounded like... right?

Did he—no, impossible. Lucas Hilton didn’t do love.

It had to be a trick, a ploy to get closer to the kids.

Her jaw tightened. She could lose anything—money, pride, even power.

But her children? They were her line in the sand.

Touch them, and she’d burn the world to ash.

When she reached the lobby, she could still feel eyes following her.

Something was off.

She scanned the area, expression unreadable, then walked out.

What she didn’t realize was that the entire front of the Hilton Group building—walls, glass, and pillars—had been plastered with her promotional posters.

By the time she got back to Blackstone Manor, the doorbell rang.

"Miss Morgan," Mrs. Wilson called softly, "Mr. Ethan is here to see you."

Sophia froze mid-page, the magazine slipping from her fingers.

Ethan? Already?

He wasted no time.

"Mrs. Wilson," Sophia said after a beat, "let him in."

Ethan didn’t look angry at all—in fact, he was smiling, like he’d just walked out of a damn rom-com instead of the mess he’d made.

"Sophia."

She raised a brow, not even bothering to stand. "You look like you’re dying to strangle me, but you’re still smiling? Ethan, have you changed... or is your shamelessness just finally hitting a new low?"

His grin stayed fixed, but his pulse was burning with rage. He’d barely said her name and she was already throwing knives.

"Enough," she muttered, flipping another glossy page of the magazine. "Your eyes are practically spelling hate. Whatever you came to say—spit it out. Or get out."

Compared to the male model on the page, Ethan barely registered as background noise.

"Sophia... are you really saying we don’t have a chance anymore?"

"You mean after you were caught in bed with another man, you still want to bring me back to the Trump Family?"

The audacity would’ve been funny if it weren’t so pathetic.

Sophia knew him too well—Ethan wasn’t here to apologize. He was plotting.

And with Trump Family’s snake pit of an inner circle—especially that old viper Thomas—there was no way this visit was innocent.

"Sophia, I lost my head back then," Ethan said, his tone softening, like he thought guilt could buy forgiveness. "I can forgive you. Even after you were with Lucas, I can still forgive you. You used to love me so much. How can you just... forget us?"

He really picked the wrong pot to stir.

Sophia had only ever been with Ethan because of the Morgans—it was practically an arranged alliance.

If he hadn’t chased her like a dog in heat, she would’ve never said yes.

And what did she get in return? A nightmare.

"You talk about forgiveness like you’re doing me a favor." Her voice dropped, smooth and cold. "Tell me, who the hell gave you the courage? You think I’m some stray you can call back whenever you feel lonely? Sorry, Ethan. I actually respect myself. So here’s a tip—cut the little games. They make you look desperate."

Her tone could’ve frozen hell over.

Ethan flinched. "Sophia, don’t—"

"Don’t what? Refuse to drink the poison you’re offering?"

She let out a sharp laugh, locking eyes with him. "Let’s be honest. If the roles were reversed—if you were me—what would you do?"

Then she counted, one finger at a time.

"First—between you and Lucas, there’s no comparison. He could crush your entire Trump Family with one finger if he felt like it.

Second—you don’t even come close to him in looks. Not remotely.

Third—at least he can keep his pants zipped. You? Let’s just say ’stud horse’ is still considered an animal, right?

And fourth—I know exactly why you want me back. You see my value, Ethan. You always have.

The problem is... Lucas beats you at everything. And I don’t exactly come in second, either."

She smiled, wicked and beautiful. "So tell me, Ethan—does that burn?"

Sophia had always been frighteningly good at pushing buttons.

Her late mother, Aurora, once told her to be gentle—to be the kind of woman who forgives easily.

But her mother never lived to see it.

Because when someone tried to hurt her, Sophia didn’t cry—she fought back.

Her kindness had always been an illusion.

Ethan still didn’t get it. "Do you have to go against me in everything?"

Sophia gave a lazy smile and pointed to the door. "The exit’s right there. Don’t let it hit you on your way out."