Chapter 11 - Standing Up Against Injustice

Sophia hurriedly ran over in her high heels, her small arm blocking the man.

“How can you hit someone?”

“Sophia, help me!”

Isabella's face was bruised, with a large contusion around her eye.

Usually cheerful, Isabella now looked pitiful and disheveled.

“Let her go!”

“You damn woman, who are you to meddle in my business? She’s my wife; I can do whatever I want!”

Sophia's gaze was cold and her tone firm, “If you don’t let her go, I’ll call the police!”

The man sneered, easily grabbing Sophia’s wrist, “Call the police?”

Preston walked in, holding Sophia’s forgotten handbag, and saw the scene.

Facing the man’s threat, Sophia stood her ground, her small shoulders straight, “Yes, I’ll call the police!”

The man shoved Isabella aside and raised his hand to teach Sophia a lesson.

“Honey, don’t hurt anyone. Sophia, you should leave. Just run!”

“Someone, help! He’s hitting her!”

Isabella rushed to pull the man away, only to be violently thrown aside.

The man’s menacing face drew closer to Sophia, who remained unafraid.

“If she doesn’t get hit, then you take her place.”

Before the man could strike, he was suddenly kicked to the ground.

Sophia stopped in her tracks, looking up to see Preston slowly retracting his leg.

Preston acted as if nothing had happened, saying casually, “You forgot your bag.”

Sophia’s eyes were filled with surprise and gratitude.

Preston had just kicked a burly man away.

The man got up, reaching for Isabella.

Isabella ran to Sophia.

Sophia instinctively pulled her behind, her gaze even colder.

“I’ve already called the police.”

“Damn it! Meddling in other people’s business!”

The man rubbed his waist, ready to attack Sophia, but hesitated when he saw Preston, avoiding eye contact.

This man looked intimidating.

“Isabella! Don’t you dare come home!”

After a moment’s thought, the man decided to leave.

As he turned to go, Preston stepped forward, stopping him, “My wife called the police. You can’t leave.”

Isabella, trembling, looked at Sophia in shock. When had she gotten married?

Sophia comforted Isabella, “Don’t be afraid. I’m here with you. He won’t dare do anything.”

Isabella shakily said okay, while the man cursed, using filthy language to insult Isabella.

“I want a divorce!”

Isabella’s shout stunned the man into silence, his eyes widening.

Before the police arrived, the man suddenly knelt before Isabella, clinging to her leg and begging for forgiveness.

“Honey, honey, I was wrong. It’s all my fault. Forgive me this once, just this once!”

Isabella sobbed, struggling to speak.

Sophia held her hand tightly, giving her strength.

Isabella covered her mouth and slowly said, “No, I won’t forgive you!”

Seeing his pleas failed, the man showed his true colors, lunging at Isabella.

Sophia quickly pulled Isabella behind her, standing tall and defiant.

The man’s fist stopped inches from Sophia’s face.

Preston, holding Sophia’s handbag, said calmly, “Try hitting her.”

The man, feeling a dull pain in his waist, didn’t dare touch Sophia.

He had a feeling that if he hit her, his own life might be at risk.

This man’s presence was too powerful.

The police soon arrived and took the man away. Isabella clung to Sophia, asking, “Sophia, can you come with me?”

Sophia nodded and reassured her, then turned to Preston.

“I’ll go with her. If you have work, you should go. I’m sorry to have troubled you for so long.”

“I just got news that I have the day off.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

Sophia reached for her handbag, but Preston turned, “I’ll carry it. You stay with her.”

Preston, with his outstanding presence, looked completely at ease holding a cream-colored handbag, still exuding a cold aura.

Outside the police station.

Preston made a call to delegate some work, temporarily assigning his secretary to work overtime. The senior secretaries were stunned that Preston, a workaholic, was skipping work.

Preston finished the call and lit a cigarette, standing quietly at the entrance, his features sharp and handsome.

Sophia stayed with Isabella until her family arrived. Her parents were furious, demanding a divorce.

“Preston.”

“All done?”

“Yes, her family is here.”

Sophia's small face, her hair gently blown by the wind, seemed different from the fearless woman earlier.

Preston squinted, wondering how many sides this woman had.

Sophia received a call from her company, needing to return for a handover. Preston drove her to the building.

“Do you have any other plans?”

Feeling guilty for troubling Preston, Sophia, knowing his salary wasn’t high and gas was expensive, secretly left cash in the car.

Preston watched her enter the building and noticed the cash she had left.

He held the twenty dollars, a smile playing at his lips.

Inside the company.

Sophia managed to make it to the final meeting. Her work was unanimously approved, and she stood to accept congratulations.

This project’s approval meant a series of derivative works.

After a tough journey, Sophia finally had a good outcome.

After the meeting, she packed up to return to her office, only to be blocked by a figure.

A woman in nearly five-inch heels stood before her, “Sophia, you’re quite the star now.”

Sophia packed up her drawings, “Not at all, not compared to you, Miss Markle.”

Ella Markle, Ariel Carrington’s close friend, was somewhat well-known in the industry and held a higher position in the company than Sophia.

“Miss Welsh, so modest.”

Ella, in her suit skirt, sat down and deliberately blocked Sophia’s path.

“Oh, by the way, Miss Welsh, you might not know about our high school reunion.”

“I’ll send you the address. You must come.”

Ella stood to leave, then turned back as if remembering something, “Henry and Ariel are quite the happy couple now.”