Chapter 178: The Past She Didn't Want to Remember
James remembered the first time he met John—John had brought a Border Collie as a gift for Sophia.
Disgust had flickered across Sophia's eyes. She'd said outright that she hated dogs. At the time, he'd assumed it was merely a jab at John himself, not the dog.
But judging from her reaction today, that wasn't the case at all.
Sophia tugged at the corner of her lip and took a sip of grape juice. "I'm really not a fan of dogs."
Not a fan was putting it mildly. She hated them. Had hated them since she was nine.
She'd watched John command a Czechoslovakian Wolfdog to attack Andrew. Worried Andrew would get hurt, she'd followed them—only to see Andrew stab the dog to death right in front of her.
Blood pooled across the floor. The creature that had been alive and breathing moments before now lay still.
Nine-year-old Sophia had been traumatized. The metallic stench of blood filled her nostrils, making her gag. Every night, when she closed her eyes, she saw Andrew gripping that blade, hands slick with crimson, eyes alight with twisted satisfaction.
Worse still, afterward John and Andrew had blamed her—the most innocent party. She'd been locked in solitary confinement for a month.
She hated dogs. Every time she saw one, that memory resurfaced. The blood. The stench. The betrayal by people she cared about. The suffocating feeling of being locked away.
Her closest friends knew how deep the wound ran. Amelia and Wayne never kept dogs in their homes. Michael had gone even further—the moment he learned, he'd had the Green family's Shiba Inu flown to Eldoria overnight to stay with Ella.
None of this, however, did Sophia share with James. She knew he'd feel terrible for her. But this was Lucas's childhood dream come true. Telling James would only put him in an impossible position.
Still, even without her saying a word, James—perceptive as always—could tell this went far deeper than simple dislike. There was trauma here. Something she didn't want to revisit.
He felt a pang of guilt. If only he'd noticed sooner. Maybe he could have stopped their father from buying the dog in the first place.
But Lucas was so happy. James couldn't bear to take that away from him now.
He was quiet for a long moment, then offered a compromise. "I'll lay down some ground rules with Lucas. We'll build a doghouse in the backyard. Snowball won't be allowed in your room. When you're home, he stays outside. Before you get back each day, we'll have housekeeping clear out any stray fur. You won't have to see him if you don't want to."
Touched by James's protectiveness, Sophia smiled faintly. "Okay. Thank you. But let me be the one to talk to Lucas. It shouldn't fall on you."
They were family. Best to minimize any potential resentment. Adding a middleman would only create distance. Who knew if Lucas might hold it against her later?
"All right," James said, standing. "Wait here. I'll have Lucas take Snowball to his room. I'll grab a shower and come back."
Before leaving, he ruffled her hair gently—a gesture full of quiet affection and heartache.
He didn't want to imagine what kind of life Sophia had led at the Smith estate. What horrors she'd endured to develop such an intense aversion to dogs.
Sophia always seemed so confident, so composed—as if she had everything under control. Her emotions were rock-steady.
James had never thought to check in on her mental health.
After he left, Sophia finished her grape juice and polished off a custard tart. The sugar and carbs settled her stomach, easing the tension.
She tidied up the table, fetched her phone from her room, and returned to the balcony.
From the backyard below came the sound of Lucas playing with Snowball.
"Snowball, fetch the ball!"
"Come on, one more time! Faster!"
"One, two, three—catch!"
A moment later, she heard James calling Lucas inside.
Sophia tuned out the noise, unwrapped the towel from her damp hair, and scrolled through financial news on her phone.
Meanwhile, at Smith Manor, the atmosphere was suffocating.
George had been confident. He'd assumed showing Michael those compromising photos would force him into compliance. Instead, he'd been served with a lawsuit.
Michael was suing him for attempted coercion and blackmail. Emily was being charged with invasion of privacy and defamation for fabricating fake evidence.
Security footage from Celestial Peak Hotel clearly showed Emily entering Michael's room. Less than five minutes later, Sophia burst in. Two minutes after that, Bruce arrived and escorted Michael out.
"Damn it! You useless fool! You couldn't even handle something this simple? And now they have leverage against us!" George's face flushed crimson with rage. He slapped Emily hard across the face.
If the plan had failed, what good were a few worthless photos? She hadn't even told him Sophia had caught them red-handed!
Emily clutched her stinging cheek, panic flashing in her eyes. "Dad, I was only trying to help us connect with Cloud Group! How was I supposed to know that bitch Sophia would barge in? Maybe… maybe this whole thing was a trap they set for us!"
George froze. That made sense. How could Sophia—who should've been hosting guests downstairs—have gotten there so fast?
It had to be premeditated.
"Damn it! We've been played again!" He slammed his fist against his thigh.
"I'm the one who's been played." A sharp voice cut through the air.
Both father and daughter turned toward the door.
Jane strode in, fresh from days recovering in the hospital. Her expression was thunderous.
Her furious gaze swept over Emily before landing squarely on George. "George! The prenup is still locked in the safe, and yet you dared bring your bastard daughter into this house—switching her out for my real child!"
George stared at her, baffled and indignant. "What child? What bastard? Did someone knock some sense out of you in the hospital?"
Jane scoffed coldly. She stormed over, yanked a DNA test from her purse, and threw it in his face.
"She's not even my daughter! You orchestrated the kidnapping too, didn't you? What's the plan, George? First, you get rid of my real child and sneak your mistress's brat into the family. Next, you'll get rid of me so your little whore can move in officially?"