Chapter 122: Is Smith Group on the Brink of Bankruptcy?
Michael rose to his feet and scooped Sophia into his arms, carrying her upstairs to the bedroom.
"Which outfit do you want? I'll grab it for you." His attentiveness came naturally—clearly not the first time he'd fetched her clothes while she showered.
"Just a nightgown. I'll pick something out after I'm done." Sophia smiled, nudging Michael out of the bathroom before closing the door behind her.
The sound of running water filtered through. Michael sighed. "I'll leave it on the bed. I'm going to shower downstairs."
Sophia murmured acknowledgment, peeling off her clothes and stepping under the spray.
Hot water enveloped her, washing away the day's fatigue—though it did nothing to ease the flush creeping across her cheeks.
Ever since she'd turned twenty, she'd noticed Michael's desire intensifying. Yet he always held back, never pushing beyond kissing.
He respected her boundaries absolutely. Once, worried he was torturing himself, she'd offered to help him through... other means. He'd refused outright.
"Baby, I'm not with you to satisfy urges. Just holding your hand, hugging you, kissing you—that's happiness enough. The physical response is natural when I'm near you. You don't need to force yourself."
Sophia understood the biology behind it. She didn't doubt his words.
Still, intimacy was part of love's foundation. Of course Michael had thought about it.
Love meant respect. Respect required restraint.
Especially back then, when her body was still developing. He'd feared losing control, worried he might hurt her.
Maybe it was the scalding water—Sophia's face burned hotter.
She was twenty-three now. He could bring it up if he wanted.
By the time she dressed and headed downstairs, Michael was still in the guest bathroom. Sophia had a pretty good idea why he was taking so long.
She didn't rush him. Instead, she settled onto the couch and scrolled through X.
Among the trending topics—aside from posts about her family—one headline dominated:
Smith Group on the Brink of Bankruptcy: Rumor or Reality?
Over the past five years, Andrew had systematically pushed out the Smith family's collateral branches. Their assets had fallen under his control, transforming Smith Group into his personal empire.
Six months ago, the subsidiaries formerly run by those ousted relatives—now Andrew's—had begun failing. One by one, they collapsed. Smith Group hemorrhaged value. Outsiders speculated the conglomerate was entering its twilight, bankruptcy inevitable.
But Sophia knew better. Smith Group wasn't just losing subsidiaries. Andrew and John had hollowed out the entire corporation. It was already a shell.
Now they were simply trickling out the news.
Years of maneuvering, and no one had caught on. Their methods were frighteningly effective.
This vague article was probably Andrew's doing. They were preparing to deal with Joshua's situation.
Joshua attended university in Emerald City. Meanwhile, surveillance from Silverlight City had never ceased. With Smith Group's gradual decline, his aunt hadn't grown suspicious. She'd allowed him to spend five peaceful years in Emerald City.
Just as Sophia was about to check other headlines, Michael emerged from the bathroom.
He wore a simple T-shirt and relaxed-fit jeans. Since her high school graduation, though, he'd transformed into a preening peacock—dressing meticulously for every date, always adding cologne.
It had been ages since Sophia caught the scent of that clean, uncomplicated sea salt and lemon fragrance.
"Michael, I don't like your cologne." Sophia poked his shoulder blade. "I prefer how you used to smell."
Michael paused, then smiled. "I used to use Nexus Sea Salt & Lemon body wash. They discontinued it. Where am I supposed to find that scent now?"
Sophia pursed her lips, thinking. "Can't you just acquire Nexus?"
Michael looked helpless. "Sophia, even Cloud Group and Vertex Innovations combined couldn't acquire Nexus."
"Fine." Sophia shrugged in surrender. She'd commission someone to recreate the fragrance as perfume.
Their destination today: an amusement park.
Funny thing—most people assumed that growing up at Smith Manor meant Sophia had no childhood, that she'd never been to an amusement park.
In reality, at age five, after recovering from broken ribs, Michael had picked her up from the hospital and taken her straight to one.
That first visit, still fragile, she couldn't handle thrilling rides. Two carousel rides had been enough to make her happy.
This was her second time. Again, with Michael.
They rode the drop tower, hearts leaping into throats. They screamed through roller coaster loops, wind tearing past. They kissed at the top of the Ferris wheel, letting sunlight and clouds witness their love.
"Baby, having fun?"
Stepping off the pirate ship, Michael interlaced his fingers with Sophia's, his free hand smoothing her windswept hair. When he looked down at her, his gaze dripped with infinite tenderness.
The girl reflected in his eyes was always the most radiant.
Sophia's smile bloomed sweetly. She hadn't relaxed like this in forever. "I'm thirsty."
Michael leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. "Let's grab drinks, rest a bit, then hit the sky chairs?"
"Perfect."
Throughout the park, colorful cart-shaped stalls sold beverages and snacks.
They picked a decent-looking lemonade stand. Michael asked, "Sophia, what would you like?"
Sophia's gaze fixed on a couple sharing a single drink under a nearby umbrella. She tugged Michael's sleeve and pointed. "Can we get that? Please?"
Michael followed her finger. The couple sipped from an oversized lemonade cup with two straws—one red, one blue—arranged to form a heart.
So Sophia was into this sort of thing?
He chuckled softly and turned to order. "One honey lemonade. Couples cup. Light ice, half sweet."
The drink arrived quickly. Sophia took the cup and latched onto the red straw, taking two refreshing gulps.
Michael paid, then bent to reach the blue straw.
Thunk—their foreheads collided.
This design was flawed!
Sophia rubbed her forehead, meeting Michael's mildly aggrieved expression. She burst out laughing.
"Let's sit under that umbrella. We won't bonk heads sitting down." She grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the shade.
"Hold on." Michael's grip tightened, stopping her. His eyes narrowed at a couple buying hot dogs nearby. "Does that guy look familiar?"
Sophia followed his gaze curiously.
The young man stood around six feet tall, dressed in a casual summer tracksuit. He looked teenage—maybe late teens. Beside him, a girl wore a white lace sundress, knee-highs, and Mary Janes. Smooth hair cascaded over her shoulders, a pearl clip tucked behind one ear.
The boy's arm draped around her shoulders. He bent slightly, murmuring something. Clearly a couple deeply in love.
He did look familiar.