Chapter 19: No Bottom Line

Mr. Walker gripped Sophia's wrist tightly, feeling the softness of her skin. He couldn't hold back but leaned closer.

"Sophia!"

Sophia pushed him, struggling, and her phone fell to the ground. When she pulled out her phone, she accidentally pressed the answer button, and Mr. Walker's words were broadcast live to the person on the other end.

Mr. Walker stepped on the phone, shattering the screen.

"Mr. Walker, if you keep this up, I'll scream for help!"

"You won't, Sophia. If you stay with me, I promise you'll have a bright future and reach the pinnacle of the industry. How about it?"

Sophia clenched her fist tightly. "No."

"Come on, Sophia, think it over. Give me a chance and give yourself a chance too."

Mr. Walker held Sophia's hand, his eyes full of lust and deceit. The alcohol heightened his excitement, and with Sophia's pretty face so close, he could hardly contain himself. His large hand suddenly grabbed Sophia's waist, and almost simultaneously, Sophia's slap landed on his face.

The pain only made Mr. Walker more excited, and he wanted to take it further. He clumsily tried to unbutton Sophia's clothes.

Sophia was no match for his strength. With one hand, Mr. Walker easily controlled all her movements.

"Shameless!"

"Good, Sophia, your insults hit the spot."

Sophia felt something wet on her neck. She shouted and struggled.

"Let go of me!"

Just as Mr. Walker's lips were about to touch Sophia's, someone grabbed the back of his shirt collar and yanked him away from her.

Sophia was so disgusted she almost vomited, leaning against the car and retching.

Bang!

A tall, familiar figure grabbed Mr. Walker and slammed him into a nearby column. Mr. Walker wasn't short, but next to Preston, he was dwarfed.

Preston glanced at Sophia and didn't want her to see the brutal scene that was about to unfold. He easily dragged Mr. Walker by his shirt outside, ignoring his protests.

"Who the hell are you?"

Preston dragged him to the entrance and let go. Mr. Walker fell to the ground, blood dripping from his nose. He looked up at Preston in confusion.

"Do you know who I am? Which company are you from?"

"Brightpath Co."

Preston exuded a cold, intimidating aura, his gaze icy and terrifying.

"Touch her again, and you won't be so lucky next time."

Brightpath Corporation was a Fortune 500 company, notorious for its high standards. It was a company that employed either highly capable individuals or those with significant connections. It was not a company Mr. Walker could afford to offend.

Mr. Walker moved his lips but said nothing, instinctively scooting backward.

"Preston!"

Sophia ran over, her eyes full of worry. "Don't hurt him."

"I won't."

Preston glanced at Mr. Walker, who scrambled away, just as Isabella arrived with a designated driver.

"Hey, Mr. Walker, where are you going?"

Mr. Walker waved her off and hurriedly flagged down a taxi on the street, leaving his car behind.

Isabella looked at Mr. Walker, then at Sophia. "He wasn't really drunk, was he?"

Preston drove Isabella home. On the way, Isabella, after hearing what happened with Mr. Walker, cursed him out.

"That bastard! I thought he was a decent guy based on what he said during dinner, but it turns out all men are unreliable!"

Sophia coughed uncomfortably.

Isabella glanced at Preston, realizing she had misspoken.

"Spit, spit, spit, Preston, don't listen to my nonsense. I didn't mean you. I was talking about those other men..."

Preston smiled politely. "I think Miss Vincent has a point."

Isabella laughed awkwardly, and the car fell into silence until she got out.

Sophia kept wiping her neck with a wet tissue. Just thinking about Mr. Walker's face made her nauseous again.

Preston noticed her actions but said nothing, his expression darkening.

When they got into the elevator, Preston saw the red marks on her neck, caused by Sophia's vigorous scrubbing.

Sophia had a lot to say to Preston. If he hadn't shown up today, the consequences would have been unimaginable. He always seemed to appear like a knight in shining armor, and Sophia was grateful, not knowing how to express her thanks.

The elevator doors opened slowly.

"I have something to tell you..."

"Sophia..."

They both spoke at the same time, then laughed.

Preston let Sophia step out first. "You go ahead."

Preston pulled out his keys to open the door, thoughtfully holding it open for Sophia.

"Preston, thank you."

Preston closed the door, facing away from Sophia. He poured her a glass of water and couldn't help but ask, "Is that all you wanted to say?"

Sophia nodded. "You've helped me so much."

Preston's lips curved slightly. "Then consider it a debt."

Sophia didn't expect him to say that, but she found his approach sensible. Their marriage had no emotional foundation, and she owed him too much already. She had been raised to be resilient and grateful, to survive like grass growing out of a crack in a rock. She offered him a small smile.

"Of course. I'll repay you however I can."

Preston noticed her determined eyes, saying, "Alright."

"As for how you repay this debt, that's up to me."

Sophia looked at him, puzzled. Preston suddenly leaned in closer.

The warmth of his finger touched the red mark on her neck. "Sophia, this wasn't your fault. Don't hurt yourself."

Before she could react, the warmth was gone. The strong presence in front of her vanished as Preston closed his bedroom door, leaving her to blink in confusion.

Inside, Preston stared at his fingers, still warm from touching Sophia. His deep eyes showed a hint of turmoil.

Sophia's publisher suddenly changed. Mr. Walker was willing to pay the penalty for breach of contract to avoid working with her. The new publisher was a woman with an air of sophistication. They met at a café.

The woman removed her sunglasses and extended her hand. "Lynn, pleasure to work with you."

She pushed the contract to Sophia. "I've already signed it. But before you sign, I have a few things to say."

"I've seen your work. Your skills are not an issue. We'll consider promoting and packaging you. Do you have any concerns?"

"No false advertising of my work."

The woman laughed.

"Sweetheart, I've seen many talents like you in this industry. To make a name for yourself and express your ideas, the first step is to build your reputation and create marketable work..."

"I don't recommend thin-skinned artists sign with us."

Lynn leaned back and smiled, her hands resting in front of her.