Maybe She's Telling the Truth?

In a tucked-away room of the sprawling mansion.

Sophia fired up her laptop, pulling up the feed from the terrace cameras.

From the day Ethan came home, she'd sprinkled tiny cams all over the place.

She had to keep tabs on his every move.

Sophia watched the screen, earbuds piping in the four guys' chat crystal clear, every word hitting home.

Her eyes darkened by the second, fists clenching tighter...

Yeah right, like she'd let them egg him on to buy her out.

Not a chance in hell!

She'd clawed her way this far— no way she'd bail now.

Without Buddy in the mix, facing all that pushback, she might've grabbed the cash and split.

But with him? Even if it wasn't for her, she'd fight for their boy.

If she slunk away, the Blackwoods would never let her take him.

And she couldn't be that selfish anyway, ripping away what was rightfully his.

Ethan would probably end up with some blue-blood match, pop out their own kid.

Buddy wouldn't stand a chance against that—might get shoved to the sidelines, or worse, caught in the crossfire of family wars.

No way she'd let that happen.

Sophia eased the laptop shut, drawing a deep breath, her gaze hardening with resolve.

"Don't worry, baby. Mommy's always gonna be your mommy."

"I'll clear every roadblock for you, lock down that spot as the next Blackwood in line."

***

Sophia stepped into the airy walk-in closet, her pale fingers trailing over rows of silky nightgowns.

They paused at a spaghetti-strap slip, which she slipped into.

Sure, looks could only carry you so far, but damn if it wasn't the quickest way to spark that close bond.

The bathroom door swung open, and Ethan stepped out, steam still rising off him.

He rubbed a towel over his damp hair, a white one slung low around his hips.

His lean, muscled frame was on full display, abs and pecs carved tight, skin glowing warm under the lights.

"All done in there?" Sophia's voice floated from behind.

Ethan turned on instinct, towel draped over his shoulder, but he froze the second he saw her.

That view... it pinned him in place.

Under the soft glow, Sophia wore a black silk slip, barely-there straps clinging to her shoulders like they'd snap with a tug.

The deep V plunged way too low, edged in delicate black lace that only teased more.

Ethan swallowed hard, breath catching quick.

Sophia gave him a sultry look, gliding closer, her bare feet silent on the plush rug.

Before he could snap out of it, she reached up, snagging the towel from his shoulder. "Let me get that for you."

No waiting for a yes—she circled behind, rising on her toes, the soft fabric whispering over his wet strands.

Her touch stayed feather-light, fingertips grazing his ear now and then, sending little shivers down his spine.

Ethan felt her warm breath on his nape, laced with a hint of red wine.

"You've been drinking?" His voice came low, rough around the edges.

"Yeah, but just a couple glasses." Hers was right by his ear.

"Why the wine?" His throat tightened. "Rough day or something?"

Sophia's hands slid from the towel, her fingers combing gently through his half-dry hair.

She pressed in closer, her body brushing his back.

"Sophia..." He started to turn, but she looped her arms around him from behind.

Her hands spanned his waist, palms flat against his stomach.

Ethan sensed her cheek against his shoulder blade, that heat making his skin buzz.

"Don't." Her plea was soft. "I'm just... having a bad night. Need a hug. Just for a minute?"

"What happened?" He went rigid, heart pounding like a drum.

Her scent—flowers and that rich wine—hit like a spell.

"You've been pulling away these past few days." She held on tighter. "It hurts."

"Did I mess up somehow?"

Ethan twisted around at last, catching her wrists, torn between shoving back and drawing her in.

"You didn't do anything wrong. I just needed space to sort my head out."

"Have you? Sorted it?"

Sophia tilted her face up, eyes shimmering, lips plump from the wine.

Ethan's breath hitched, cursing under his breath. He scooped her up in one fluid move, striding fast to the bedroom.

***

Ethan stared at the ceiling, embers of desire still flickering in his eyes, sleep miles away.

Everything around him felt familiar, but the woman beside him? Not a spark of it.

Even after what they'd just shared, her scent clinging to his skin.

Had he ever really loved Sophia?

But why, with family he'd blanked on too, did seeing them stir something deep?

Even those three wiseasses—Kevin, Carson, Stanley—hit him with that vague pull.

Sophia, though? Nothing.

That didn't add up.

If things were like she said—deep-in-love lovers—his body ought to remember her on some level.

As his mind spun, the woman next to him started tossing restless.

"No... don't..." She mumbled through it, voice thick with fear.

Ethan paused, then nudged her shoulder light. "Sophia? You okay?"

"Don't... don't take Ethan away. Please... let him go..."

Her words cracked with sobs, halting, eyes still shut like she was trapped in a nightmare.

"I can't lose him again. It'd break me. Please..."

Ethan's brows knit tight, but his chest softened anyway.

He drew her in gentle, murmuring low. "I'm right here. Nobody's taking me. Easy now."

Skin to skin.

"Ethan..." Sophia settled in his hold, breaths evening out slow and deep.

He glanced down at her sleeping face, a fierce urge to shield her swelling up inside.

Maybe she was telling the truth?

Maybe it was his memories playing tricks?

However, out of his sight, the woman in his arms' lashes fluttered once, and she curved her lips ever so slightly, unnoticed.