Last night was the sa—no way to escape. Evander Lancaster had tornted her for half the night, and now her whole body felt as if it had been run over by a car, sore and weak.
Sophia Hamilton lay in her own room, wrapped up in her comforter, catching up on sleep.
Half-asleep, she heard the doorbell ring outside. Sophia turned over, pulled the comforter over her head, and went back to sleep.
"Ding-dong, ding-dong..." The doorbell outside the bedroom kept ringing non-stop. Sophia threw back the comforter in annoyance and got out of bed, grumbling as she walked out to open the door, "Going out to buy groceries and not even taking the key, seriously!"
She groggily opened the door, then headed back with her hair like a bird’s nest, walking toward her bedroom as she said, "Mom, next ti rember to take the key when you go out..."
"Miss Han!" Violet Zimrman deliberately raised her voice. Sophia jolted, and her drowsiness vanished on the spot.
Only then did she slowly turn around and realize that the person standing at the door was Evander Lancaster’s mother, Violet Zimrman.
She was wearing a dark coffee-colored long top with wide-legged pants, a black fur coat draped over it, her long hair neatly pinned at the back of her head, a small exquisite clutch in her hand.
Flustered, Sophia tugged at her one-piece fuzzy pajamas and smoothed her hair. She hurried over with a forced smile and ostentatiously invited her in, "Auntie, you’re here, co in and sit."
Violet didn’t co in right away. She stood at the door and looked Sophia up and down. It was obvious she was not very satisfied.
Especially when her gaze slid over the collar of the fuzzy pajamas and landed on the several obvious hickeys there, her delicate brows knit together, as if she was even a little resentful.
Sophia instinctively clutched the collar of her pajamas tightly together, the smile on her face turning awkward.
"Auntie, whatever you want to say, co in and talk."
Violet gave a faint "mm," stepped inside, and lowered her eyes to glance at the slippers left on the floor, her brows clearly knitting again.
"You can just wear your shoes in, no need to change," noticing Violet’s disdain, Sophia hurriedly said. Violet didn’t stand on ceremony and walked in on her high heels.
Sophia held her pajama collar with one hand and closed the door with the other. After Violet walked into the living room, she turned her head and said, "Miss Han, I think you can probably guess why I ca today, can’t you?"
Sophia lowered her eyes and pressed her lips together. "Auntie, please sit."
"No need. I’ll leave once I’m done talking." Violet lifted her chin slightly. She was clearly a gentle woman, yet right now in front of Sophia she put on a strong, unquestionable air.
Sophia didn’t insist on offering her a seat. Holding onto her pajama collar, she stood in front of Violet, head slightly lowered, lips pressed tight, like an elentary schooler waiting for a teacher’s scolding.
Violet glanced up at her, her slightly raised chin tinged with a bit of arrogance. "Miss Han, if I rember correctly, I already told your mother I would never agree to Evander marrying you. Now you’re still tangled up with him—I don’t know what you’re thinking."
"Auntie, Evander and I are serious, we..."
"Don’t say that to ." Sophia had just started when Violet cut her off, raising a hand in a halting gesture. As she undid the tal clasp on her clutch, she asked, "Tell , how much breakup money will it take for you to leave Evander? Is five hundred thousand enough?"
As she spoke, Violet had already pulled a check from her clutch, pinched between her index and middle finger and held low in front of Sophia.
Sophia frowned in disbelief, the hurt plain on her face. "Auntie, is that really how you see ?"
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