Chapter 480

"This is merely a smokescreen to convince everyone that Mr. Goldmann's schedule is completely packed these days."

"As for the Laurent family and the de Armas, they've been exhausting all resources to find Ms. Vanderbilt. Mr. Goldmann remains the sole person aware of her location yet refuses to investigate. I suspect it's not unwillingness but fear that holds him back."

Nathan's gaze turned icy, his silence speaking volumes.

Early dawn...

Sophia awoke with a skull-splitting headache. The throbbing pain made her temples pulse violently, and the harsh morning light forced her to shield her eyes with trembling fingers.

As consciousness returned, memories flooded back. She bolted upright, fingers combing through tangled locks while desperately trying to piece together last night's events.

"Finally awake?" A deep voice sliced through her confusion. Sophia whirled toward the sound, heart hammering against her ribs.

Lucas Laurent lounged on her velvet chaise, his tailored suit wrinkled from hours of waiting. His wristwatch caught the sunlight as he checked it with visible irritation. "You could sleep through an earthquake."

"Lucas Laurent!" Sophia shrieked, clutching the duvet to her chest. Her frantic gaze darted between her changed pajamas and his impassive face. "Did you—"

"Please." His lip curled. "As if I'd waste my time ogling a scarecrow like you."

"You absolute swine!" A pillow went flying toward his head.

With feline reflexes, Lucas caught it midair. Rising with effortless grace, he tossed it back onto the bed. "You vomited on my Burberry trench last night. Consider yourself lucky I didn't leave you in that alley."

Sophia's fingers dug into the sheets. "You camped in my apartment just to ask about your cousin?"

His silence confirmed her suspicion.

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "Why does everyone assume I'm some all-knowing oracle about Zoe's whereabouts?" Her expression hardened. "I know jackshit."

Lucas studied her for three excruciating heartbeats before straightening his cuffs. "Burn that coat. I don't want it back."

The moment the door clicked shut, Sophia exhaled shakily. She fumbled for her phone, thumbs flying across the screen.

Morwich, City of Saint Page...

"Miss Alice, I swear on my daughter's life—I never meant to betray you!" The kneeling photographer's knees left damp prints on the marble floor.

Evelyn Vanderbilt sipped jasmine tea beneath the pavilion's arched roof, sunlight glinting off the surveillance photos in her left hand. Each frame captured her in various locations around the city—evidence of meticulous stalking.

Her manicured nail tapped against a close-up of the trembling man's six-year-old daughter. "Tell me, Mr. Ramirez... how would you feel if someone took clandestine shots of your little girl?"

The photographer's throat worked soundlessly.

She set down the porcelain cup with deliberate calm. "Your client. How much did they pay you?"

"One-and-a-half million," he whispered.

Evelyn's laughter rang like shattered crystal. "How flattering. My face commands such a price." She leaned forward, shadows sharpening her delicate features. "Describe them."

"Foreigners," he stammered. "The leader—Caucasian like you, but with a strange accent—"

Her phone vibrated with an incoming message. Evelyn's fingers stilled above the screen as she read Sophia's coded text. Without looking up, she waved dismissively. "Consider your debt paid. Get out."

The photographer scrambled backward like a crab escaping boiling water. Evelyn's thumb hovered over the delete button—then decisively erased the incriminating photos. A new game had begun.