Chapter 101

Sebastian didn't even glance at them, walking straight toward me.

He reached my side and naturally took my hand, his warm, dry palm enveloping my cold fingertips.

Then he bent his head slightly, leaning close to my ear, his voice not loud but clear enough for Brielle and Marc beside us to hear. "Honey, why aren't you going in?"

Honey.

I froze for a moment, then a wave of warmth surged from our clasped hands, instantly flooding through my entire body.

The embarrassment from facing Beauchamp earlier and the irritation from dealing with these relatives—all of it vanished in that moment.

I straightened my spine, feeling more grounded than ever before.

Brielle's face transformed from amazement to jealousy, twisting rather unattractively.

"Honey? Sophia, you're really something! Already hooked yourself a lover so quickly? He's good-looking, I'll give you that. Wonder which escort service he's from—did your face fool him?"

I smiled. "Brielle, instead of concerning yourself with me, maybe worry more about your husband."

I looked at Marc beside her, his face already turning ashen. "I remember last week's financial magazine cover—he was enjoying a lovely evening on a yacht with a female model. Your house is a constant warzone, yet you still have the energy to meddle in others' business. How exhausting for you."

Brielle's face instantly flushed red, too furious to speak.

I stopped looking at them, pulling Sebastian's hand as I turned toward the gate.

"Later, no matter what they say," I lowered my voice, murmuring in his ear, "just ignore them. Treat it like they're farting."

Sebastian said nothing, just tightened his grip on my hand.

Pushing open the villa's heavy doors, the noisy voices in the living room abruptly ceased.

A whole room full of people—Holden, Tatum, and several other collateral relatives—all sat on sofas, their gazes turning toward us in unison.

When their eyes fell on my hand tightly clasped with Sebastian's, everyone's expressions became quite spectacular.

I pulled Sebastian straight to the center of the living room. "Uncle Holden, Aunt Tatum, calling me back so late—what's so urgent?"

Holden, seated in the place of honor, wore a grim expression.

He glanced at Sebastian beside me and snorted coldly. "Urgent? Sophia, you still remember I'm your uncle? Do you still have any regard for the Neville family? You moved out to fool around with this man of unclear origins? You alone have disgraced the entire Neville family!"

His voice was loud and sharp, carrying that typical tone of accusation from an elder.

Before I could speak, the pressure around Sebastian dropped significantly.

I squeezed his hand, signaling him not to move.

Then I raised my head, calmly meeting Holden's gaze. "Uncle Holden, first, I moved out because this isn't my home. Second, the man beside me isn't 'of unclear origins'—he's my husband, Sebastian. We're legally married with a marriage certificate. Cohabitation is protected by law—it's not 'fooling around,' and it certainly isn't disgraceful."

"You dare talk back!" My words clearly choked Holden. He slammed the table and stood up, pointing at my nose. "You're absolutely lawless! Do you have respect for your elders? Marriage is such a major matter—not consulting the family, randomly finding some man and marrying him—you're degrading yourself! How can you face your dead mother?"

"Exactly, Sophia," Tatum immediately chimed in, putting on a concerned facade. "Holden is doing this for your own good. What's this man's background? Don't let him deceive you. A Neville family daughter can't be so careless."

Brielle also followed in, holding her mother's arm and adding fuel to the fire. "Mom, look at her—she doesn't look deceived at all. Clearly, she's the one who trapped him. Who knows what underhanded tactics she used to snag such a handsome man. Just don't know if he's after her body or the Neville family money!"

In an instant, the entire living room filled with accusations, admonitions, and sarcasm, mixing together like an airtight net descending over me.

The noise gave me a headache. The very air in the living room felt foul and stifling.

I released Sebastian's hand and took a step forward, surveying these hypocritical or greedy faces.

"Are you finished?" My voice wasn't loud, yet it cut through all the noise.

The living room instantly quieted.

"If you're finished, please leave." I pointed at the door. "You're not welcome here."

"What kind of attitude is that!" Holden trembled with rage. "We're your elders! We came to care about you!"

"Care about me?" I laughed. "Care about the subsidiary company I control, or care about the year-end dividends?"

Brielle's expression soured. She shrilled, "Sophia, don't be so ungrateful! Dad and Aunt Tatum came to see you out of goodwill, and you dare drive them away? This family meeting is happening whether you want it or not! We'll wait right here. I want to see when you'll give us an explanation!"

After speaking, she actually strutted past me toward the dining room, acting like she planned to camp out here.

"Serve dinner! I'm hungry!"

That entitled manner, as if she were the mistress of this house.

The other relatives also began whispering, clearly intending to sit tight and not leave.

Just as I was about to explode, a warm force gripped my wrist.

Sebastian had somehow moved to my side.

He didn't even glance at those people, just looked down at me, then pulled me around and headed for the door.

His strides were long, steady, carrying undeniable determination.

"Sophia! Stop right there!"

Holden frantically chased after us from behind, blocking our path.

He looked warily at Sebastian, then lowered his voice, assuming an elder's posture with me. "Sophia, don't throw a tantrum. We're doing this for your own good. About today—just give in a little, endure it, and it'll pass. Don't let outsiders laugh at the Neville family."

"Endure it" again.

In my previous life, I'd heard too many such words, which was why I'd turned my own life into a joke.

Before I could speak, Sebastian had already pulled me more deeply behind him.

He said nothing, just raised his eyes and looked quietly at Holden with those deep, unfathomable eyes.

In that gaze was no anger, no threat—only bottomless indifference.

Under his stare, Holden's back stiffened. The words "you can't leave" stuck in his throat. He opened his mouth but couldn't utter a single syllable.

In the end, he could only watch helplessly as Sebastian pulled me out the door without looking back.

The car merged back into the night.

I leaned against the seat back, watching the lights flying past the window, the irritation of being held hostage by family ties gradually subsiding.