Climbing over from the terrace had become second nature to her. The curtains in the small building were drawn up, leaving a small gap through which light peeked through. Sophia carefully crouched down beside the sliding glass door, stretching her neck to try to get a clearer view of what was going on inside.
The silhouette of a man turned sideways was hard to make out, but it was definitely a young man with an aura of coldness. His build wasn't as tall or imposing as Capone's or Mandy's, so he probably wouldn't stand out too much in a crowd.
Perhaps it was precisely because of this that he could take lives unseen, striking unexpectedly.
Cronus was standing in front of him, his hands twisted behind him by two strong men. Winter seemed to say something to him, and Cronus sneered before replying with a few words. Then, a brutal kick landed on the back of his knee, causing him to collapse to the ground.
Sophia almost felt the pain as if it were her own. She didn't know what they were talking about, but she saw Winter's men bring in a basin full of ice and cold water. Cronus was forcefully pressed face-down into the basin, and after a while, they pulled his head up by his hair, his handsome face turning red and purple from the suffocation, yet he still sneered at Winter.
This continued several times, and it seemed that Winter still hadn't gotten the answer he wanted. He remained calm and unhurried, ordering the basin to be removed, crouching down to say a few words to Cronus, then clapping his hands and walking away with composure.
Cronus collapsed to the ground, curling up against the wall, clutching his chest and desperately trying to get some air, looking as if he had almost lost his life.
Sophia watched everything from the terrace, her heart aching for him, but worried that if she went in to check on Cronus, Winter and his men might still be around and she'd alert them.
He seemed to be in great pain, but it didn't appear to be life-threatening. Aside from his pale face, there were no visible wounds.
Winter's cruel methods of torture were indeed effective, and the person behind this must have been Capone. It was clear that Capone himself was also well-versed in these tactics.
No wonder Cronus looked so haggard. He was under house arrest and regularly subjected to such torturous treatment. His days were certainly far from easy.
The scene and the realization weighed heavily on Sophia all day, leaving her feeling down. In the afternoon, she dozed off in bed, her mind hazy, until she felt a soft brush, like feathers sweeping across her forehead and ear. Slowly, she opened her eyes, and Capone's face filled her vision.
"Are you very tired? Lucy told me you slept for a long time!"
His palm rested gently on her cheek, his voice and movements soft, as if the argument from that day had never happened.
"Mm, a bit."
It wasn't just tiredness; she also felt a little dizzy, as if Cronus' pained expression was a heavy stone pressing on her chest.
"Come on, get up and have some spaghetti. We've got a lot of good dishes today!"
Sophia smiled bitterly. Since she returned here, every meal of spaghetti had been made with the finest ingredients, almost like a feast for the New Year in a typical family. Yet, she found it increasingly difficult to summon any appetite.
In the pasta room, Sophia immediately spotted Winter sitting next to Mandy and Joey. This time, she could clearly see his face. His expression was distant and detached, not as striking as Capone's, but there was a certain simple masculinity to him.
She couldn't understand how Capone's father had chosen these young forces when he was building his power. Perhaps they were all selected for their exceptional physical traits, as though they were characters out of a martial arts novel with incredible potential. And, of course, their appearances were all outstanding—masculine, handsome, and bright, covering all types. It reminded her of the Chinese netizens' playful remarks about the Chinese badminton team: "The coach, Li Yongbo, must be a fan of good looks. That's why his disciples are both incredibly skilled and good-looking." During the peak years of the men's team, when they visited Hong Kong, they looked more like male models than athletes.
"Come on, sit here!"
Capone noticed that Sophia seemed lost in thought and smiled softly, a tender feeling in his heart. He pulled her hand to sit at the table with the pasta and casually introduced, "This is Winter. You've met before, but didn't have the chance to be properly introduced! He's the seventh, the same age as Joey."
"Ahem!" Joey coughed awkwardly. "Boss, you're getting softer and softer with her. You're revealing all our ages just for a simple introduction!"
"Hello!" Sophia's expression was cold, and she greeted Winter perfunctorily before lowering her head and starting to eat.
Winter, being indifferent by nature, didn't seem to mind.
They had taken someone's high-ranking daughter as a hostage, even choosing to disrupt her engagement banquet. Could they really expect her to treat them kindly?
Sophia ate very little, leaving some dishes untouched and putting down her chopsticks before finishing her soup.
"I'm full. You guys enjoy yourselves!"
She didn't want to sit at the same table as Winter eating pasta because it constantly reminded her of the cruel tortures and Cronus's painful expressions.
Capone held her hand, a hint of confusion crossing his face, but concern outweighed it. "You're eating too little, this isn't good. At least finish your soup!"
"I don't want to drink it, I can't eat anymore!" Sophia looked up at Capone with a somewhat innocent expression, her stomach in turmoil. Facing Winter and him, she felt a heavy pressure and truly had no appetite.
"Then just eat the yam and meat in it. Later, you'll say you're hungry again. How would things like red bean soup be useful if you don't eat your meat and vegetables?"
The port area is famous for many kinds of food, including various sweet soups and desserts. Lucy, seeing that Sophia wasn't eating much of the pasta, worried that she would be hungry later in the evening, so she always prepared things like red bean soup or sesame paste for her. If Sophia felt like eating, she could heat them up.
These past few days, Sophia had been going to eat a bowl in the evenings. Did he think he didn't know?
Sophia helplessly picked through the ingredients in the stew, and Winter found it a bit amusing. "The boss has really become a man of flesh and blood," he thought. Even his reminders were full of warmth. This was the first time he had witnessed something like this.
But Mandy and Joey, on the other hand, were already used to it. It seemed to be the norm by now.
That night, as Sophia was taking a shower in the bathroom, she dried off the water on her body only to realize she had forgotten to bring a change of clothes with her. She was, indeed, a bit distracted.
Reluctantly, Sophia wrapped a bath towel around her chest, trying to cover herself. However, when she opened the door, she was surprised to see Capone leaning casually against the wall. The room smelled sweetly of red bean soup, and the bowl on the small table was still steaming.
Sophia's face flushed involuntarily, and she lowered her head, avoiding eye contact with Capone. "Is there something you need?"
Capone had been thinking about how little she ate during dinner, so after having some tea with Mandy and Winter in the neighboring villa, he let them leave first. He brought her a late-night snack and came to check if she was awake.
He hadn't expected to stumble upon such a perfect moment—the sight of her fresh from the bath.
He quietly admired her for a moment. Sophia's bare skin, pale and soft, was tinted with a warm pink from the heat. Her hair, still damp, hung at her shoulders, carrying the familiar fragrance of camellia oil.
He liked seeing the embarrassed look on her face, the way the thin bath towel couldn't hide the curve of her breasts and the length of her legs.
"Finished your shower?" He spoke with a husky, sensual tone as he pulled her into his arms tightly. "Let me hug you, mmm... you smell so good!"
Sophia, flustered, tried to push him away, but the towel was barely knotted, precariously hanging on her body. With a slight tug, it could fall off.
"What's the matter? Didn't you want to stay and chat with them?"
"What could I possibly want? It's time to rest. They've all been busy the whole day, so they went back to their rooms to sleep. Why would I stay here and disturb us?"
Capone's hand rested on the knot of the towel. After a brief moment of consideration, he decided not to pull it off. Instead, he lifted her effortlessly, walking over to the small coffee table, and gently set her down in the chair. He then found her clean pajamas and draped them over her.
"Be careful not to catch a cold! Eat this first."