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Sophie's hands gripped the door tightly as her entire body froze from the unexpected interruption. Her breath caught in her throat as she slowly turned to face the person who had caught her. She inwardly sighed in relief when she saw it wasn't Mr. Shane but Treyond instead.
"I'm looking for Lucy's room," she said quickly, trying to divert his attention, hoping her lie would work.
"That's not Lucy's room," he said, stepping forward, his eyes narrowing as he closed the distance between them.
"Oh," Sophie said, feigning surprise, as if she had no idea that the room didn't belong to Lucy. In truth, she knew perfectly well this wasn't Lucy's room. She hadn't yet reached the room Madam Sandra had directed her to, but this door—standing alone in the middle of the hallway—had piqued her curiosity. Something about it felt off, different, like it held a secret.
"So, whose room is this then?" she asked, prying for answers. She hoped Treyond might slip up and reveal something interesting.
"No one is allowed inside this room apart from the Young Master. That's all I can tell you, ma'am," Treyond replied, bowing politely as he always did. His words only fueled her curiosity further. Who did the room belong to, and why was it forbidden?
"Oh, okay. Please show me the way to Lucy's room, then," she said, resigned for now. Her mind, however, raced with determination, already planning her next opportunity to sneak back and see what was inside that mysterious room. She made a mental note of the hallway and the exact door, ensuring she wouldn't forget.
Just then, an irritated voice echoed from behind the door. "What is it?" Lucy's voice rang out, thick with annoyance. Treyond let out an exasperated sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as if this was a regular occurrence.
"It's me," Treyond called back, his deep voice reverberating down the empty hallway.
"Why are you back? I thought I told you not to come back!" Lucy's voice immediately grew louder, her anger evident in each word. Sophie's eyes widened in surprise. She had never seen Treyond show so much expression before. He looked defeated, almost embarrassed, his gaze dropping to the floor. A thought crossed Sophie's mind, and she wondered if something was going on between the two of them. The tension, the unspoken emotions—it seemed like there was more than met the eye.
"The young madame is here to see you," Treyond replied, his voice more subdued now. Inside the room, Sophie could hear the hurried sound of footsteps, followed by the door swinging open, revealing Lucy's wide smile. Without a word, Lucy grabbed Sophie by the arm and dragged her inside, slamming the door shut in Treyond's face.
"I'm so sorry to disturb you, Lucy," Sophie said, feeling awkward and unsure, standing in the middle of the room. Lucy, still smiling, looked at her warmly, though there was something off in her eyes—a sadness lurking behind the smile.
"Oh, that's no problem, Sophie. You know you're my only friend, so you're welcome here anytime you want," Lucy replied, this time her smile seeming more genuine, though Sophie could sense the underlying sorrow.
"Thank you," Sophie responded as her eyes wandered around the room. The space was far too luxurious to belong to the daughter of a cook. It was bigger than her own room, and every inch of it was bathed in shades of pink, like something out of a princess's dream. The lavish decorations, the intricate paintings, everything about it seemed out of place for someone like Lucy. Sophie couldn't help but wonder why.
Her thoughts raced as she tried to figure out how to ask Lucy for the favor she had come for. 'I should have listened to Daisy more,' she thought. 'Maybe I wouldn't be so bad at making small talk or keeping conversations going. This wouldn't feel so awkward.'
"Sophie, is there anything I can help you with?" Lucy asked, noticing her friend's discomfort. "You know you can always ask me for anything," she added, her eyes softening with concern.
"I actually wanted to borrow your phone," Sophie said finally, relieved that Lucy had noticed her hesitation. The words spilled out of her mouth before she could overthink it.
"Oh, sure," Lucy said without hesitation. She grabbed her phone from her bed and handed it to Sophie with a smile.
Sophie took the phone gratefully, offering her thanks before quickly excusing herself from the room. She hurried down the hallway, her hands shaking slightly as she dialed the number she had memorized. After transferring the contact information from her phone to Lucy's, she hit the call button.
'So, he put a jammer on my phone,' she thought, her face growing dark as the realization hit her.
"Hello?" A voice answered, causing Sophie to freeze in surprise. She hadn't expected him to pick up so quickly.
"Hello?" he repeated, this time his voice sounded irritated.
"Hello, Uncle, it's me—Sophie," she said, hoping he would recognize her voice.
"Sophie? As in Sophie Adams?" he asked, and Sophie let out a breath of relief that he remembered her.
"Yes, Uncle, it's me. Actually, I wanted to ask you—" But before she could finish her sentence, the line went dead.
Her heart raced as she redialed the number, again and again, but each time, there was no answer. Confusion twisted her features as she wondered, 'Why is he rejecting my calls?' She remembered the day of her father's burial, how he had abruptly cut the call when she asked about the trust fund her father had left for her. The memory of that day played out in her mind now, feeling eerily similar to the way he had acted today.
"Mr. Ben, what are you hiding?" she muttered under her breath as she walked back to Lucy's room to return the phone.
Sophie sat on her bed later that evening, her thoughts a swirling mess of memories from her father's death and the events leading up to his burial. Everything seemed connected somehow, but the pieces weren't fitting together. As she lost herself in thought, a knock came at the door, pulling her back to the present.
"Young madame, the Young Master has returned, and he requests your presence downstairs," the maid said before quickly scurrying away, as if afraid of lingering.
Sophie felt her heart sink. She descended the stairs slowly, her anger bubbling just beneath the surface. Shane was standing at the base of the staircase, dressed impeccably in the black blazer suit he had left in earlier that morning. He looked every bit as intimidating as always, his presence commanding the room.
"I heard you asked for me," Sophie said, her tone sharp, her frustration barely masked. She was still seething over the fact that he had put jammers on her phone, preventing her from making or receiving calls. She was certain Daisy must be worried sick about her by now.
Shane's gaze met hers, cold and intense, his sharp eyes boring into her without a word. His silence was suffocating, and the warning in his stare was clear: don't provoke me.
But Sophie wasn't afraid. A smile spread across her face as she walked up to him, her expression deliberately sweet.
"Do you need anything, husband? Are you unwell? Did your sickness from yesterday return?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she reached out, lightly brushing her fingers against the side of his face through the mask.