Sophia Evans sat on the bed, wrapped in a blanket. Her smooth shoulders and delicate collarbone, exposed to the air, were marked with traces of rose-red, her entire being seemingly lost in thought. Yet, there was no denying the lingering allure she exuded, as captivating as a bewitching enchantress.
The sound of running water from the bathroom abruptly ceased. Moments later, Mason Clarke emerged, draped in a white towel. His physique rivaled that of the male models gracing the pages of glossy magazines—sculpted chest and abs, broad shoulders, and a narrow waist, his proportions nothing short of perfect.
"What are you daydreaming about?" Mason's voice was a deep, magnetic rumble. "Have you decided what you want?"
Sophia snapped out of her reverie, her gaze lingering on his toned body as she swallowed hard.
"Can we… not get a divorce?" Her voice was sweet, her eyes innocent, tinged with a hint of vulnerability.
Mason looked at her tenderly, though his eyes remained cold. "How could you be so naive? Lily is back."
Sophia's heart tightened. Of course, she knew Lily Foster had returned—Mason's childhood sweetheart. But Lily was the illegitimate daughter of the Foster family, never truly accepted by them. The Clarke family had opposed Mason marrying her. In contrast, Sophia, though not from a prestigious background, came from a clean, respectable family—one that had saved Mason's grandmother.
Many years ago, Sophia's parents, both doctors, died in a rescue operation. The person they were saving was Mason's grandmother.To repay the debt and to prevent Mason from marrying Lily, his grandmother had pressured him into marrying Sophia. At the time, the elderly woman's health was fragile, and doctors had issued critical warnings several times. Mason reluctantly agreed, though he had made it clear to Sophia that he would never love her. It was all for his grandmother's peace of mind, and Sophia had understood that from the beginning.
She was soft and gentle, like a harmless little rabbit, never causing trouble or making demands. And so Mason had added, "As long as you're my wife, I won't let you suffer. But three years from now, we'll divorce, and I'll give you a generous settlement."
Sophia gazed at him with her usual softness. It wasn't for money that she had married him, but to fulfill a dream from her youth. But now, that dream was shattered. She had to face reality. Three years of quiet devotion had not won his love. It was a failure.
"Mason," she called his name, the only one who ever did so with such softness. Every time she said it like that in bed, Mason couldn't help but "spoil" her fiercely. Despite appearing like an innocent rabbit, she had the seductive allure of a fox. But the thought of her using that same tender voice to call another man after their divorce made his chest tighten with irritation.
"What?" Mason's gaze was sharp.
Sophia stared at her reflection in his eyes, summoning her courage. "Mason, I'm pregnant."
His expression darkened instantly. "What did you say?"
"I'm pregnant," she repeated, her teeth sinking into the lips he had marked red.
"Get rid of it," Mason replied without hesitation.
Sophia froze. "What?"
"Get rid of it," he repeated, his handsome, refined face clouded with cold rage. "I'm not going to let a child keep me from divorcing you, and I don't want it to become an obstacle between Lily and me."
Sophia's heart turned to ice. It seemed even a child couldn't bring him back. He had just told her to get rid of their own flesh and blood—how heartless.
She let out a soft, bitter laugh, her voice as sweet and gentle as ever.
"What are you laughing at?" Mason's face darkened.
"I'm not pregnant. I lied," she smiled, though her heart bled inside.
"You lied?" he asked, displeased.
"Yes, I lied. If you don't believe me, we can go to the hospital for a check-up," she said with a teasing curve to her lips.
"That's for the best," Mason responded icily. "I don't want any uncertainties. If you were really pregnant, I'd make sure the child was gone and give you an extra billion to ensure you're in good health—so you'll be ready for your… second marriage."
Second marriage? Sophia's heart ached. Did he really think she had married him for money and houses? He had just twisted the knife in her chest without mercy.
"Fine," she agreed. "Mason, spend one more night with me, won't you?"
"You little minx," he murmured, pulling her from the bed and onto his lap. Though his mind told him to let her go, his body couldn't get enough of her. This tempting little peach, so sweet and succulent, drove him wild. And the thought that he wouldn't get to savor her again left him feeling stifled. So he took her with even more fervor, determined to drain every last drop of her sweetness.
The next morning, Sophia was awakened by the ringing of a phone. Despite the emotional torment Mason had put her through, in other aspects, he had always pampered her. Knowing she wasn't a morning person, he usually kept his phone on silent or vibrate at night to avoid disturbing her. But for some reason, he had switched it back to ringtone.
Drowsily, Sophia reached for the phone to tell Mason there was a call, but the name on the screen made her freeze: Lily.
So he had turned the ringtone back on to make sure Lily could reach him. How considerate of him. Sophia suddenly felt that the three years Mason had "pampered" her had been nothing more than a dream. In truth, everything had always been clear—Mason had never loved her. He only tolerated her because she resembled Lily. For three years, she had been nothing more than Lily Foster's substitute.