Chapter 3 · Mom, My System Says Dad's Cheating

At three in the afternoon, Sophia arrived at the Grant Group lobby.

With flawless makeup, a stunning haute couture dress, and strutting in four-inch heels, she walked in hand-in-hand with Joey.

The receptionist was stunned for a moment, and then quickly came over. "Mrs. Grant, what brings you here? Mr. Grant is—"

"I know he's working late," Sophia interrupted with a sweet smile. She held up a food container. "I made him some chowder."

The receptionist hesitated, not sure what to say.

Everyone in the company knew Thomas had taken his secretary, Melissa, out to "meet a client" and wasn't anywhere near the office, but nobody dared to mention it.

"It's fine. I'll go up and wait for him," Sophia said, making her way directly to the executive elevator.

As luck would have it, the elevator doors opened right then, and out stepped Thomas.

But he wasn't alone. Melissa was right there beside him, wearing a tight white dress with her hair in loose waves and striking, glamorous makeup.

She was clinging to Thomas's arm, practically pressed up against him.

The moment they saw Sophia, all three of them froze.

The air seemed to freeze for a second.

Melissa instinctively tried to pull her hand back. But when she saw Sophia standing there playing the devoted wife, a hint of challenge flashed in her eyes, and she held onto Thomas even tighter.

"Mr. Grant, who is this?" Melissa asked, pretending not to know.

Thomas reacted instantly. Without missing a beat, he gently removed Melissa's hand from his arm and quickly walked over to Sophia, his expression instantly shifting to one of delighted surprise.

"Hey, honey, what brings you here with Joey?" he said, reaching out to put his arm around Sophia's shoulders.

Sophia subtly turned to the side, avoiding his touch, and handed him the container with a warm smile. "Thought you might be exhausted from all the overtime, so I brought you some chowder. And this lady is?"

As she spoke, she looked over at Melissa.

'Target acquired. There she is, the premium-grade scheming mistress.' Joey's thoughts flowed into Sophia's mind, clear as day. 'That Tiffany necklace she's wearing is Mom's thing. Dad gave her that.

'And Dad bought her that dress as a business entertainment.

'She's now thinking about how annoying Mom is and how next month, once their plan works, she'll be the new Mrs. Grant.'

Sophia's eyes locked onto the necklace.

That was a birthday gift from her father when she turned eighteen.

Thomas had borrowed it later, claiming he needed to pawn it for company funds. Somehow, it ended up around the mistress's neck instead.

"Oh, this is my new secretary, Melissa Shaw," Thomas introduced smoothly. Then he turned to Melissa and added, "Melissa, this is my wife."

"Hi, Mrs. Grant." Melissa barely nodded, her chin raised arrogantly. "Mr. Grant, we're running late for the evening drinks. We need to head out."

She was clearly trying to usher Sophia out.

Sophia smiled, suddenly letting go of Joey's hand and stepping forward. "Wow, Ms. Shaw, your necklace is stunning."

She reached out to touch it.

"Of course, it's—" Melissa began, clearly proud.

But Sophia's hand "accidentally" slipped.

The container, already open, tipped over. Hot clam chowder, thick and creamy, spilled all over Melissa's white dress.

Melissa screamed. The sound echoed through the lobby.

Hot chowder dripped down her chest, her skirt, everywhere.

She stood there completely wrecked, looking like she'd just crawled out of a dumpster.

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry." Sophia's face was all panic as she grabbed tissues and started dabbing at the mess. But every wipe only made it worse, smearing the grease deeper into the fabric.

"My hand just slipped. Are you okay? That dress looks expensive. Do you want me to replace it?" Sophia kept apologizing, but her eyes told a different story.

Her gaze was cold and mocking, with no trace of real regret.

Thomas's face went dark, but with Sophia right there, he couldn't say a thing. He swallowed his anger and snapped, "How clumsy. Someone, take Melissa to clean up."

Melissa shook with rage, her eyes fixed on Sophia like daggers.

Sophia met her gaze and smiled faintly. She leaned in close, lowering her voice so only Melissa could hear. "Clothes can be cleaned," she said. "But some stains? They're permanent."

Chapter 3

At three in the afternoon, Sophia arrived at the Grant Group lobby.

With flawless makeup, a stunning haute couture dress, and strutting in four-inch heels, she walked in hand-in-hand with Joey.

The receptionist was stunned for a moment, and then quickly came over. "Mrs. Grant, what brings you here? Mr. Grant is—"

"I know he's working late," Sophia interrupted with a sweet smile. She held up a food container. "I made him some chowder."

The receptionist hesitated, not sure what to say.

Everyone in the company knew Thomas had taken his secretary, Melissa, out to "meet a client" and wasn't anywhere near the office, but nobody dared to mention it.

"It's fine. I'll go up and wait for him," Sophia said, making her way directly to the executive elevator.

As luck would have it, the elevator doors opened right then, and out stepped Thomas.

But he wasn't alone. Melissa was right there beside him, wearing a tight white dress with her hair in loose waves and striking, glamorous makeup.

She was clinging to Thomas's arm, practically pressed up against him.

The moment they saw Sophia, all three of them froze.

The air seemed to freeze for a second.

Melissa instinctively tried to pull her hand back. But when she saw Sophia standing there playing the devoted wife, a hint of challenge flashed in her eyes, and she held onto Thomas even tighter.

"Mr. Grant, who is this?" Melissa asked, pretending not to know.

Thomas reacted instantly. Without missing a beat, he gently removed Melissa's hand from his arm and quickly walked over to Sophia, his expression instantly shifting to one of delighted surprise.

"Hey, honey, what brings you here with Joey?" he said, reaching out to put his arm around Sophia's shoulders.

As she spoke, she looked over at Melissa.

'Target acquired. There she is, the premium-grade scheming mistress.' Joey's thoughts flowed into Sophia's mind, clear as day. 'That Tiffany necklace she's wearing is Mom's thing. Dad gave her that.

'And Dad bought her that dress as a business entertainment.

'She's now thinking about how annoying Mom is and how next month, once their plan works, she'll be the new Mrs. Grant.'

Sophia's eyes locked onto the necklace.

That was a birthday gift from her father when she turned eighteen.

Thomas had borrowed it later, claiming he needed to pawn it for company funds. Somehow, it ended up around the mistress's neck instead.

"Oh, this is my new secretary, Melissa Shaw," Thomas introduced smoothly. Then he turned to Melissa and added, "Melissa, this is my wife."

"Hi, Mrs. Grant." Melissa barely nodded, her chin raised arrogantly. "Mr. Grant, we're running late for the evening drinks. We need to head out."

She was clearly trying to usher Sophia out.

Sophia smiled, suddenly letting go of Joey's hand and stepping forward. "Wow, Ms. Shaw, your necklace is stunning."

She reached out to touch it.

"Of course, it's—" Melissa began, clearly proud.

But Sophia's hand "accidentally" slipped.

The container, already open, tipped over. Hot clam chowder, thick and creamy, spilled all over Melissa's white dress.

Melissa screamed. The sound echoed through the lobby.

Hot chowder dripped down her chest, her skirt, everywhere.

She stood there completely wrecked, looking like she'd just crawled out of a dumpster.

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry." Sophia's face was all panic as she grabbed tissues and started dabbing at the mess. But every wipe only made it worse, smearing the grease deeper into the fabric.

"My hand just slipped. Are you okay? That dress looks expensive. Do you want me to replace it?" Sophia kept apologizing, but her eyes told a different story.

Her gaze was cold and mocking, with no trace of real regret.

Thomas's face went dark, but with Sophia right there, he couldn't say a thing. He swallowed his anger and snapped, "How clumsy. Someone, take Melissa to clean up."

Melissa shook with rage, her eyes fixed on Sophia like daggers.

Sophia met her gaze and smiled faintly. She leaned in close, lowering her voice so only Melissa could hear. "Clothes can be cleaned," she said. "But some stains? They're permanent."