Having just recovered from her illness, with the New Year just over, Sophia seemed like a completely different person. It was as if the kidnapping and the heartbreak had never happened. She was unusually lively and cheerful, with a smile constantly on her face when around her family, just like the old Sophia.
The bakery hadn't officially opened yet, and Roger wanted to give her more time to rest. Her two brothers had planned for her to travel abroad to clear her mind, but she refused. She no longer stayed at home like a wounded animal licking its wounds. Instead, she went out every day, shopping and partying, drinking and dancing. However, she always kept her limits and never got drunk. She'd return home, tipsy, around 10 p.m., cheerfully saying goodnight to the family before heading to her room to sleep.
Her parents believed she had fully recovered. The high fever had seemingly allowed her to shake off the shadows of her abduction and live joyfully without a care, just like before.
But her brothers, Alexander Diaz and Matthew Diaz, didn't think it was that simple. They saw her current behavior as nothing more than a façade, which worried them even more.
It was actually a good thing to be able to cry when sad. But a smile that never faded could be a sign of extreme self-repression or deliberate avoidance. If a wound wasn't treated and kept covered, it would eventually fester and become infected. And when it came time to fully heal, the process would be as painful as peeling skin or scraping bone. They couldn't bear to see their sister go through such suffering again.
They had people secretly protecting Sophia, only to discover that Roger was also quietly watching over her. When she couldn't see him, he would sometimes stand at a distance, holding a glass of wine, watching her for hours, sometimes the whole night, and Sophia seemed completely unaware.
As men, their intuition told them that this young man had special feelings for Sophia.
If they could end up together, it might not be a bad thing. Sophia needed a healthy, simple relationship to forget her past with Capone, and perhaps that would be the way to heal her heartache.
So, they intentionally set the stage for the two of them. There were several banquets and cocktail parties during the Diaz family's New Year's celebration, and they decided to turn one of them into a masquerade ball, specially inviting clients to bring their families.
Matthew Diaz personally handed the invitation to Roger and spoke frankly, "I hope you'll ask Sophia to be your dance partner. She's been out of control these days. Instead of standing by as a spectator, why not take her hand and truly be her partner?"
Roger was a little surprised. "You all know? Does Sophia know?"
"No, she doesn't know anything. Although she seems to be smiling happily, you and I both know she's still trapped in her own world. The events of the past half-year have ensnared her, and it won't be something she can shake off in a day or two, nor can she do it alone. We all care about her, we all want to protect her, so let's work together to help her move on."
Love doesn't have a magic cure, sometimes it just takes a new beginning to forget the past. Matthew Diaz knew this was unfair to Roger, but for his beloved sister, there was no other choice.
Roger didn't feel awkward. "Alright, I'll go with Sophia."
He had already missed one chance. This time, no matter what, he had to stand by her side.
He quickly ordered a gorgeous ball gown and mask through friends, getting them ready in time for Sophia's first day of work. He presented them to her with great care, formally inviting her to be his partner.
"I've had the gown made for you. You can try it on, and if anything's not right, it can still be altered! This mask is handmade, with feathers and embedded crystals. See if you like it, and whether it matches the princess image you have in mind?"
Sophia neither smiled nor frowned. Her fingertips gently slid over the satin and chiffon of the gown, and the mask rested quietly on the soft fabric. She only glanced at it once, and she knew it was Juliet. The tiny crystals around the eyes looked like small tears.
No matter who Roger had originally intended for her to play, she had already decided this was Juliet.
"It's so beautiful..." she couldn't help but marvel at the exquisite mask and gown, along with the familiar tragic love story that had always been close to her heart.
She must have become more pessimistic. The stories she used to love most were *Beauty and the Beast* and *Sleeping Beauty*, waiting for a prince's kiss!
How did Romeo and Juliet, defying family feuds and barriers, come to be the fairy tale she now yearned for?
"Thank you, Roger! I'd be honored to be your dance partner. This gown and mask… I really like them, truly! Also, this year for the New Year, I got quite a bit of red envelope money, plus what I've saved up from before, I think it's enough for me to become your shareholder, as long as you don't mind!"
Sophia had thought making a decision would be difficult, but when she spoke, it came out as smoothly as if it had always been that way.
Roger smiled silently, lightly tapping her shoulder. With unusual determination, he said, "I will never reject you, but you need to learn to take care of yourself, okay?"
Sophia nodded. There was something in his words that she could hear. If this had been last summer, she would have been overjoyed, feeling light and carefree. But at this moment, her heart stirred not at all, as if the big step they had taken together didn't mean anything at all.
It wasn't until she was alone in the room, trying on the elegant ivory-white gown, that tears streamed down her face. She held her hand out, pretending that the pain, the misunderstandings, the family feuds, and the slanders had never existed. She spun around in front of the mirror, dancing as if there were no harm between them, just quietly dancing together…
The ball was held in a banquet hall at the Four Seasons Hotel. It wasn't too large, but definitely not small.
The Diaz brothers' original intention was to give Sophia and Roger more opportunities to spend time together and get to know each other. The intimacy in a waltz could easily spark the beginnings of love. Perhaps Sophia would find more resonance in their embrace, forgetting some of her emotional wounds. When there are too many people, that kind of romantic atmosphere disappears.
But the media's instincts were sharp. The heat surrounding Sophia, the pampered daughter of the Diaz family, hadn't entirely dissipated. The high society still watched her closely. With fewer people present, she could easily become the center of attention, bombarded by comments, and bear invisible pressure.
So, the guest list was carefully curated. Not too many, not too few, and everyone had dressed according to the masquerade theme, some even wearing masks or wigs. The attention was diffused, allowing Sophia and the others to enjoy themselves without disturbance.
Sophia sat in a corner of the ballroom, wearing a mask. She had only a pearl necklace and the ring on her pinky finger, with no other jewelry.
Even so, she was breathtakingly beautiful. The ivory-white off-shoulder gown, the satin heels with crystal-glass soles—just sitting there, she resembled the most exquisite pearl from the South China Sea, glowing naturally with a soft luster, elegant yet lively, impossible to ignore.
But no one could see the expression on her face because the rhinestone-studded white mask concealed it perfectly. The colorful feathers on the side of the mask added a touch of playfulness and allure to her appearance.
Before the ball officially started, everyone sipped their champagne delicately. Occasionally, someone would approach to strike up a conversation, but Sophia politely declined each time.
Today wasn't the time for reckless abandon. She didn't have the energy to fake exaggerated smiles for strangers. All she had to do was wait for her Romeo.
Roger had promised he would arrive on time, but as the ball was about to begin, he still hadn't arrived. She couldn't reach him on the phone either.
He was rarely so evasive, and she hoped nothing bad had happened.
Sophia felt a vague sense of unease, as though she could sense something would go wrong.
She stood up, about to go find her two brothers and ask them to send someone to look for Roger, when the balloons at the entrance of the banquet hall suddenly popped, releasing ribbons and petals that floated gently down. The music began to play, signaling the official start of the ball.
Matthew Diaz and his brother Alexander Diaz each took the stage to give a brief speech before inviting their respective dance partners to the floor for the first dance.
They had their own matters to attend to, and Sophia didn't want to trouble them further. Quietly, she slipped out of the side terrace, hoping to find another way to contact Roger.
The garden outside was calm and tranquil, contrasting with the lively atmosphere inside. The shadows of the trees loomed tall, and only a few dim lights dotted the space. It was spring, still a bit chilly, but she didn't feel cold as she wore a white mink stole over her gown, made of chiffon and satin.
The only modification to her gown was the switch from an off-the-shoulder design to a one-shoulder strap, intended to cover the scar from the lash mark on her back.
The scar, which she had nearly forgotten, now itched with a painful reminder.
Unconsciously, she thought of the man who had hurt her so deeply. As she walked through the garden, she realized she had gotten lost.
"Isn't this the right way..." Her feet ached from the crystal heels, and the path seemed endless. After a turn, she couldn't find the place she was looking for and had to take off her shoes to rest on the stone steps.
From a distance, she saw a shadow approaching. She assumed it was a waiter, and it would be perfect—he could lead her back to the main hall.
But the figure was wearing a mask just like hers—a black one with diamonds, almost identical to hers except for the color and the lack of the tear-shaped diamond at the corners of the eyes!
His attire was also striking—vintage yet not ostentatious. A black tuxedo with a slightly exaggerated high-collared shirt, perfectly tailored pants, and boots. With every step he took, he seemed like a prince stepping out of a fairy tale.
The moonlight reflected on the mask on his left side, casting a cold glow that hid a tenderness and longing Sophia couldn't understand.
She thought she was dreaming again—this figure, the perfect jawline, the familiar scent…
"You're not wearing shoes again!" His tone was as cold as the glow of the mask on his face, seemingly reproachful yet carrying an indescribable affection.