Chapter 184: The Johnson Family Can't Protect You Forever
The young Sophia had once been innocent, craving affection and trailing after Andrew and John like a shadow. She'd persisted until age nine because in her earliest years, she'd felt fleeting glimpses of their care.
From her first memories, her parents had never held her. Andrew, ten years older, was taciturn and intimidating. John, eight years older, was a troublemaker constantly getting punished.
At two, having just learned to walk, she'd been assigned a nanny who seemed perpetually angry, muttering incomprehensible things while making every aspect of her life uncomfortable—meals, sleep, everything. The woman would dress her like a doll in beautiful but restrictive clothing that made her miserable.
When Sophia struggled or failed to meet expectations, the nanny would scold her until she cried.
One day, after she'd burst into tears again, Andrew fixed her with a cold stare that made her choke back her sobs immediately. He'd told the nanny: "The Smiths pay you to teach Sophia etiquette, but don't forget she's the only daughter of this family. Watch your attitude."
After that, the nanny no longer dared be harsh. Andrew had told Sophia, "Smith children can throw tantrums, act superior, even be ruthless. When faced with trouble, don't cry. No one in this world is worth a Smith's tears."
Little Sophia hadn't fully understood, but she'd absorbed the message. She'd decided Andrew cared about her—unlike her indifferent parents and hostile John. So she'd started seeking him out.
One day, she wanted him to take her to an amusement park, she'd found him buried in incomprehensible books. He'd waved her off casually, "There's treasure buried in the back garden. Find it, and I'll play with you."
Though she'd suspected he was lying, she hadn't wanted to disturb his studying. So she'd grabbed her pink toy shovel and run to dig.
She'd planned to bury her own bracelet in a few holes, then pretend she'd found Andrew's "treasure" so he'd take her to the park.
Instead, she'd actually found something—a pink envelope.
She hadn't known what was inside, but Andrew had been thrilled after reading it, buying cake for her and her new friend.
However... John had seemed upset. Apparently what she'd dug up had been John's treasure. In anger, he'd torn apart her favorite teddy bear.
John really was the worst!
At three, little Sophia had been sent to a private preschool in their gated community.
It was her first time seeing so many children her age. She'd desperately wanted to join them, but they'd seemed unwelcoming.
To fit in, she'd asked the staff to prepare candy and cookies that evening. Surely no one could resist sweet treats!
But the next morning, when Andrew discovered her snacks as she prepared to leave, he'd thrown everything in the trash.
His tone had been severe: "You're a Smith. Others should be the ones trying to please you. No one in this world is worthy of you compromising yourself."
Little Sophia had cried bitterly that day, but somewhere in her subconsciousness, she'd internalized his words.
Though she hadn't understood their meaning then, after her awakening at nine—when she'd realized no one in that house truly cared—she'd stopped tolerating their control and attacks.
She couldn't bow her proud head. Without the power to fight back, she'd first focused on making herself stronger.
Thus, the current Sophia was born.
The faded memories stirred nothing in her heart now. Sophia stared at Andrew for a long moment, then let out a derisive laugh. "Andrew, in what capacity are you lecturing me right now? I played along with your little performance, but you're overstepping."
The button had been retrieved by Andrew under simple terms: Sophia would pin responsibility on Emily, and he'd play along, giving him legitimate grounds to expel Emily from the family.
He didn't care about his own reputation, but with Smith Group bankrupt, his personal ventures still needed to grow. If word got out that he'd callously abandoned Emily, it would damage his image.
Now he had the perfect excuse: Emily had wanted to leave the Smiths, had actively contacted the Johnsons, and had even stolen Jane's jewelry in preparation for her departure.
First, she'd wanted to leave voluntarily. Second, she'd proven herself a thief. Andrew's decision not to intervene seemed perfectly reasonable.
Sophia had agreed for equally simple reasons: if that button remained as evidence, the Johnson family could be dragged into the Smith family's internal conflicts.
They'd eventually be cleared, but the interim hassles would waste too much time. She had better things to do.
Besides, Jane's kidnapping had already thrust the Johnsons into the spotlight. This wasn't the time for more complications.
Andrew's eyes flickered with displeasure before his expression hardened again. His lips parted, voice low and dangerous, "You think escaping the Smiths means you can stand alone?"
Sophia lifted her gaze, meeting his unflinchingly, her lips curving into a mocking smile. "What, threatening me now?"
Andrew studied her for a moment before looking at his own reflection in the window. "Just reminding you—the Johnson family can't protect you forever."
What's mine will eventually return to me.
He added silently.
"Don't trouble yourself." Sophia flashed a polite, perfunctory smile and stepped into the elevator.
The man's tall figure vanished as the doors closed. Every trace of expression immediately drained from Sophia's face.
She had to admit—Andrew was right. The Johnsons couldn't protect her forever.
Years ago, she'd naively believed that leaving the Smiths and returning to the Johnsons, gaining new guardians, would make it harder for Andrew and John to reclaim her.
She'd forgotten—those two never played by the rules. If they hadn't been busy orchestrating Smith Group's collapse, they'd have kidnapped her long ago.
With Smith Group bankrupt, Andrew and John's alliance had ended. She needed to stay vigilant.
Just as she exited the hospital, Michael called.
"Sophia, free for dinner?"
Hearing his voice instantly lightened her mood, laughter threading through her words. "Where?"
"Back at Applewood Estate? I'll cook for you?"
"Perfect."
...
Meanwhile, in a suburban cottage.
Jane sat on the bed in a silk slip nightgown, phone to her ear.
Years of being pampered with wealth had preserved her beauty—at fifty-something, she remained strikingly attractive. The bathroom door opened, releasing clouds of steam as a man emerged with a muscular physique, a towel wrapped around his waist.
His gaze darkened as it fell on her slender legs extending from beneath the hem, and he moved toward her eagerly.
Jane gently pushed him back with a mocking warning look, then continued her phone conversation: "My brilliant sons didn't disappoint. Not only did they bankrupt Smith Group—they sent George to prison."
"What's next? Obviously... eliminating the Johnson family."