Chapter 2
At those words, I saw his final wall shatter in his eyes.
The eyes of this strong, resolute man standing before me reddened with emotion.
William crushed me into his embrace, his grip so tight I thought he'd break me.
Warm tears fell onto the crook of my neck.
He hugged me with everything he had, like he'd just found something he thought he'd lost forever.
His voice, raw and choked with both pain and overwhelming joy, sounded in my ear. "Sophie, I've been searching for you for three years."
Outside the door, Dylan was pacing restlessly back and forth.
Minute after minute slipped by, but none of the sounds he'd braced himself for came from inside.
There was no woman's sobs nor a man's ragged breathing, only an uncanny, unsettling silence.
A bad feeling crept over him. He pulled out his phone, ready to text his assistant and ask just who "Mr. Clark" really was.
Just then, the door to the suite swung open.
Dylan hurried over, plastering on a fawning smile. "Mr. Clark, you—"
His words died in his throat.
It wasn't William who opened the door. It was me.
I was wearing an oversized men's shirt that just barely covered my thighs, my hair down and my feet bare.
Behind me, William walked out at a leisurely pace.
He'd changed into new clothes, his face cold and stern, but when he looked at me, there was an indescribable tenderness in his eyes.
Dylan's gaze flickered between us, his smile frozen on his face. "Sophie? You two..."
I didn't bother with him and went straight to William.
William reached out, wrapped his arm around my waist, and pulled me close.
He glanced down at Dylan, who was staring at us in disbelief. There was a hint of cruelty in William's smile.
William said, "Mr. Pearson, thanks for bringing my sister back."
Dylan blinked, stunned. His pupils shrank, like he'd just heard something straight out of a fairy tale. "Did you just say Sophie is your sister?"
"What else did you expect?" William chuckled coldly, his smile never reaching his eyes. "Did you really think you could just walk away with 30 million dollars from me?"
Dylan's face turned white as a sheet.
He stared at me, then at William, his lips quivering, unable to get a single word out. "No, that can't be true. Sophie's an orphan. She told me herself."
"Is that so?" I finally spoke, my voice calm and unruffled. "You believed whatever I told you?"
Three years ago, I escaped from the orphanage with absolutely nothing, nearly starving to death out on the streets.
That was when Dylan found me.
He took me in, gave me everything I could ever want, and let me fall for the deadliest illusion of all.
I told him I was an orphan, and he gave me that perfect look of pity.
Back then, I really thought he was my savior.
But later, I realized he just wanted a doll, someone with no baggage, pure and compliant, someone he could shape and control however he pleased.
An orphan girl was the perfect choice.
Dylan looked like my words cut him deep, his expression turning even uglier. "Sophie, why did you lie to me?"
"Lie to you?" I laughed, as if he'd just cracked the biggest joke ever. "Dylan, in these three years, can you swear you ever told me the truth, even once?"
My gaze lingered on the pricey Patek Philippe on his wrist, slid over his custom-tailored suit, and finally settled on his hypocritical face.
I said, "You said you loved me, and then turned around and got engaged to Anna Torres.
"You swore I was your one and only, but your phone's packed with contacts from a whole parade of other women.
"And now, for 30 million dollars, you traded me away to another man like I'm nothing but a piece of property."
With every word I threw at him, Dylan looked a shade paler.
"Dylan." I stared him down, making sure he heard every word, "You want to know why I lied to you? Because I never believed you, not even for a second."
Dylan staggered back, like all the strength had just been sucked out of him.
He stared at me like a stranger, scared and lost, as if he'd just met me today. "So you've been acting this whole time?"
I didn't even bother to answer because the answer didn't matter anymore.
William's grip on my hand tightened. He leaned in, whispering just for my ears only, "How do you want to deal with him?"
I looked up, meeting William's gaze. His eyes were full of heartache and dangerous fury.
I shook my head. "No rush, William."
The cat-and-mouse game was only fun if one played it slow.