April in Nancheng, crabapple blossoms in full bloom.

By evening, the pavement was damp, the sun had completely set, and the streetlights flickered on one by one.

Fallen petals scattered across the ground, light and shadow intertwined by the breeze—it all looked like a painting come to life.

Inside the restroom, two women in heavy makeup puffed on cigarettes beside a trash bin, chatting away.

Outside, a figure paused.

“Matthew Hale from Hywin Group is apparently getting engaged to Charlotte Roberts from Jiahui Group. Another eligible bachelor in Nancheng gone.”

“For real? If that engagement goes through, Charlotte’s gonna be the envy of every rich girl here. I saw Matthew in person once—damn, that man’s fine. Good-looking, successful, and totally low-key. If I could sleep with someone like him just once, I could die happy.”

“Girl, we’re just D-list models and wannabe actresses. He wouldn’t even glance at us. Better focus on climbing up yourself.”

Engaged? Matthew Hale and Charlotte Roberts?

Sophia Turner lowered her thick lashes, lips slightly pursed.

Charlotte... right, she remembered now. Olivia Chambers’ cousin.

After a beat, she pulled herself together and walked in casually.

The two women looked up at the sound of heels clicking.

What they saw was a show-stopping beauty.

Porcelain skin, jet-black hair, cherry-red lips. That kind of fresh yet sultry vibe that was a rare combo.

Her pleated white skirt swayed slightly, revealing long, slender legs that seemed airbrushed.

Even other women couldn’t help but mentally drool.

Sophia Turner was just another struggling actress like them, showing up for today’s audition.

They’d seen her around before—crazy pretty and could actually act. If she ever got cast in a decent show, she’d blow up for sure.

But for some reason, no production had ever signed her.

Rumor had it, she refused to play by the unspoken rules, and because of that, she’d basically been blacklisted by the industry.

Sophia pulled out a slim case of cigarettes from her bag, leaned against the cold wall, and lit up with practiced ease.

Blue flame, puff of smoke, chin tilted just slightly—it was all effortless.

With her other hand, she fished out her phone and started browsing news about Matthew Hale.

He was usually only mentioned in finance headlines, but now?

The gossip sites were all about his rumored engagement to Charlotte.

The other two women glanced her way again, one of them breathing out,

“She’s straight-up a stunner. That lazy chic vibe mixed with mystery? Total siren.”

As they finished their smokes and crushed the butts, they didn’t go far.

“She’s gorgeous, no doubt. But being all high and mighty like that... it won't end well. Women like that usually crash hardest.”

Their voices faded away with their footsteps.

Sophia flicked away the ash, eyes blank, that bottled-up bitterness in her chest slowly surfacing.

The restroom stayed quiet, offering her a moment’s peace.

Suddenly, her phone rang.

Isabella Mitchell.

“Where are you?”

“Starlight Lounge.”

The moment Isabella confirmed the location, she barked into the phone, “Come down. Now.”

Click. Call ended.

Sophia crushed her cigarette and stepped out.

Outside, the place was bustling. Luxury cars came and went nonstop—this was one of Nancheng’s top spots, meant for the rich and powerful.

Some came for business, others for fun.

Sophia walked out in her chiffon blouse and pleated skirt, looking stunning enough to make heads turn.

As she neared Isabella, the woman raised her hand, ready to slap her.Sophia Turner blocked her hand and said calmly, "Auntie, I’ve got another appointment to catch."

Isabella Mitchell's face turned thunderous. She jabbed a finger at Sophia’s nose and snapped, "You jinx! This is all your fault. If you had gone along with Mr. Tedford, why would he be targeting our family now? Let me tell you, if anything happens to my son, you’re the one I’ll blame!"

"What happened to my cousin?" Sophia asked, frowning.

"Alcohol poisoning. He’s still in surgery. And you—useless girl—always bringing disaster down on us!"

Sophia stood there, unfazed.

Since her family fell apart, her parents passed, and her fiancé dumped her for money, everything she ever cared about had gone up in smoke.

She used to live worry-free, chasing dreams like a fairytale, and now—now she's just barely surviving, one misstep away from falling apart.

No home, no future.

Everything her parents left behind was debt, and now she had to pay that off in monthly chunks. Her uncle, aunt, and cousin were the only family she had left.

The sad part? Her aunt once bent over backward trying to please her, scheming all day long—now that Sophia had nothing to offer, she was just someone to step on.

"You still don’t get it, do you? Your parents are dead. You’re not that high-and-mighty princess anymore. You’re just like us—scraping by. You think we can stand up to the kind of people with money and power?"

"Why not just give in? What, scared it’ll kill you? With that face and body, you’re wasting your only bargaining chip. Wait ‘til you're old—nobody's gonna care then."

Her voice was sharp, loud enough for everyone near the entrance to hear.

All eyes turned their way.

Sophia was used to it.

Two well-dressed men were seated on a nearby couch, both with a commanding air about them.

"That girl’s gorgeous, but man, her mom’s fierce. Makes me feel like saving the damsel," Alexander Knight murmured.

"Not our business," Matthew Hale replied, eyes on his paperwork. He signed his name with a sleek black pen.

"I’m serious, she’s that stunning. Can’t you look? Just once, man."

Matthew closed the pen with a soft click and glanced up, indifferent. "I’m done signing. You sure you don’t want to stay a bit?"

"You’re no fun. I'm talking about hot girls and you switch the subject. Whatever, you're almost engaged anyway. I'm off to Westport, catching a flight. Back soon—then we’ll grab a drink."

With that, Alexander grabbed his files, tidied up his suit, and left.

Yeah, poking around in someone else's family mess? Not a good idea.

Back near the entrance, Sophia’s tone stayed cool. "Auntie, I’m heading back upstairs. Just let me know the hospital bill. I can wire it to your WeChat."

Isabella was still ranting, but Sophia ignored her. She turned and hurried off before her aunt noticed.

"You little brat—"

She didn’t look where she was going and smashed right into someone.

That faint mix of cologne and smoke hit her first. A strong hand grabbed her arm right before she could fall.

Sophia stumbled, shoulder bumping into a broad chest. She steadied herself and looked up—her eyes met his.

She froze for half a second—correction, she’d just run into Matthew Hale.

His gaze was calm and cool, dark eyes clear yet unreadable, like they’d seen too much of the world already.He had that natural aura of control, the kind that didn’t need yelling—just standing there made your spine tingle.

"Sorry, sir," Sophia Turner took the initiative.

Matthew Hale gave her a brief glance. "Keep an eye on where you’re walking."

She lowered her head, murmuring a small "mm", like a guilty kid.

Even after he let go, Sophia didn’t lift her head. Her heart was still a mess.

Then she spotted something glinting on the floor—a pen. She bent down and picked it up.

She could've chased after him to return it, but nah, she just slipped it into her bag.

Inside the elevator, Matthew Hale noticed a smear of lipstick on his black suit jacket.

That girl looked about the same age as his niece. No wonder—kids nowadays and those flashy lipstick shades, not a good combo.

—

On the 9th floor, the private room was thick with alcohol and fake smiles.

Guys and girls still clinking glasses nonstop.

Emma Hale clutched her purse like a lifeline. She’d never been in a place like this—someone hit pause on her world.

Turns out, her uncle was right.

This industry’s messed up.

Totally not for some naive girl like her to mess around in.

Then a drunk guy swaggered over with a glass in hand. "Miss Hale, down this drink, and that role is yours."

Emma’s inner fire flared up. She glared at him coldly. "Not drinking."

Guy flipped instantly like he had a switch. Grabbed her chin tight, eyes red and creepily aggressive. "I said drink, so drink it."

Emma pushed back. "My uncle’s Matthew Hale. Try anything on me and he’ll make sure you regret it."

He sneered right in her face. "Matthew Hale’s your uncle? That’s rich. If that were true, no way he’d let you roam around here."

"T-there’s a reason…" she stuttered, clearly freaked out and shaking like a leaf.

Right when the guy was about to pour the liquor down her throat, a pale, slim hand darted in—Sophia Turner.

She grabbed the glass. "Mr. Daniels, my friend’s new, still learning the ropes. Let me drink this one for her?"

Walker Daniels looked her over slowly, dragging his gaze along her figure like she was some kind of prize.

Damn.

Fair skin, stunning face, legs for days.

Absolute knockout.

"Deal. You drink, and we’ll pretend this whole thing never happened."

Emma could only watch Sophia drain that glass. Her stomach was in knots.

Then Daniels smirked, clearly not done. "Nice! Another one—keep ‘em coming."

Emma couldn’t stand it anymore. The woman who saved her was about to get dragged into this mess.

She grabbed a bottle off the table and smashed it over his head. "Screw you!"

The whole room exploded into chaos.

Holding his bleeding forehead, the guy roared, "You little sh*t! Think I won’t get you blacklisted for this?"

"You wanna act tough? Let’s see how well you handle this!"

He lunged at her, grabbing her by the shoulders, hand raised like he was going to smack her senseless.

But before the hit landed, a kick sent him sprawling.

Emma turned—Sophia again.

"Go! Get help!" Sophia barked.

Emma’s hands were trembling. "Y-you stay put! I’ll be right back!" And with that, she ran out in a panic.

—

Back inside.

Sophia was being yanked by the hair, a bottle shoved to her lips, as the guy tried to drown her in booze.

Her hair was a mess, chiffon blouse soaked in red wine, face flushed like she’d been slapped with rouge. Her eyes glazed over, expression dazed—like some twisted version of beauty on display.

Everyone else? Just stood there and watched. Not one person stepped up.Just as the door to the private room swung open, everyone looked up. The man standing there in a crisp white shirt and tailored slacks? Instantly recognizable. And when they spotted Emma Hale beside him, jaws hit the floor.

It was Matthew Hale. Yep, *that* Uncle Matt.

Emma nearly shouted, "Uncle Matt, please help my friend!"

His gaze shifted over, calm and level, projecting the kind of authority that instantly shut people up.

In that dimly lit corner, the man gripping Sophia Turner’s jaw was nothing short of a monster, looming over her like he had total control.

Sophia caught a glimpse of Matthew from the corner of her eye. She yanked the wine bottle from behind her and smashed it with everything she had against the man’s head again.

Glass exploded, alcohol flew everywhere, and fresh blood rolled down his forehead.

Dazed and furious, he barked, "I'll kill you!"

Matthew's voice cut through the air, sharp and clear. "That’s enough."

The man jumped. He turned and when he saw Matthew, all that bravado vanished. “Mr. Hale, I— I didn’t know you were here.”

“Mr. Daniels, things got out of hand.”

Walker Daniels felt a chill crawl down his back. One look at Sophia’s battered state and he knew—yeah, he’d seriously messed up.

Sophia lay slumped over the couch, coughing. Matthew stepped in, took off his suit jacket, and draped it over her. She gripped his wrist, lips pale and trembling.

"You okay?" he asked, eyebrows pulled together in concern.

“Hurts,” she breathed weakly, her hand shaking. “H-hospital…”

And then, she blacked out.

Matthew caught her before she fell.

Emma was freaking out. "Uncle Matt, hurry! She needs a doctor!"

Without saying a word, Matthew lifted Sophia into his arms and strode out of the room.

Walker stood frozen, pale as a ghost, muttering to himself, “I’m screwed… totally screwed…”

~

Late at night, inside a quiet hospital room.

Sophia blinked awake, disoriented. Feeling someone nearby, she reached out and grabbed their arm. "Water…"

Her hand was small and freezing.

Matthew called out, “James, water.”

James Carter moved quickly, bringing over a glass. “Here you go, Mr. Hale.”

Matthew took the cup, gently propped Sophia up, and helped her drink.

Some water dribbled down her chin, tracing its way to her collarbone.

She coughed softly. “I hit someone… will I go to jail?”

He handed her a tissue. “No, you won’t.”

She accepted it in silence. Under the soft light, her pale face looked almost too delicate. Beautiful, yes—but not fragile. She looked like someone who bloomed wild even after being trampled.

Other girls might’ve broken down crying. But her? Not a single tear that night.

“That’s good.”

After finishing the water, she closed her eyes, breathing slow and steady. Curled up quietly like a kitten waiting for affection. It tugged at Matthew’s heart a little.

He offered her a business card. “If anything comes up, reach out to my assistant. Thank you for helping Emma tonight.”

Sure, a favor from Matthew Hale could get someone far in life. But Sophia clearly had her own code.

She shook her head, gently pushing the card back. “Emma’s my friend. I did what I should. No need to thank me, Mr. Hale.”

He looked at her—more thoughtful than curious.

She gave him a faint smile.

Then he said, “Exactly because of that, you should take it.”

Sophia lowered her gaze, hesitated for a moment, then finally took the card.

He retracted his hand, voice gentle. “Get some rest.”

“Mm.”

As she lay there, one thought occupied her mind: Was Matthew Hale into women like her?