Chapter 203: He's Playing Some Very New Games
"You..." Sophia was so shocked that she momentarily lost her words. Her eyes swept up and down the figure before her, still reeling. "What on earth happened to you?"
Anyone encountering the woman standing there—who looked like a nouveau riche matron in her forties—would never guess she was Sophia's kindergarten classmate.
And a male classmate, at that.
No wonder Sophia hadn't recognized her. Not only had seventeen years passed without contact, but the person's very gender had changed.
Who could possibly identify this person as the five-year-old boy who'd bullied her in kindergarten—Ronnie?
Ronnie ran her fingers through her brassy blonde curls, her mocking laugh tinged with bitterness. "I became this way thanks to you."
Sophia's eyes narrowed. "What does this have to do with me?"
Back then, after John had dragged her into taekwondo training and she'd broken her ribs, spending three months hospitalized, she'd returned to school only to find Ronnie had vanished.
She'd never gotten the chance to retaliate.
Ronnie's expression turned vicious. "If not for you, John never would've tortured me into this state!"
Sophia raised an eyebrow. "What did John do?"
Ronnie let out a cold snort and slowly recounted her story: "John kidnapped me right from the kindergarten gates and shipped me off to some perverted foreign billionaire. I endured unspeakable abuse. All these years later, if I hadn't undergone gender reassignment surgery and changed my appearance completely, I never wouldhave escaped back here!"
Sophia regarded her lazily, her expression screaming skepticism. "Your story's trash. Full of holes. Next time you come looking for trouble, remember to write a better script first."
She snapped her fingers. Instantly, a team of impeccably suited, professionally trained bodyguards surged forward, surrounding Ronnie's group in reverse.
Sophia crossed her arms, her smile not quite reaching her eyes as she stared at Ronnie. "You claim John sold you to some foreign billionaire? Then tell me—do you know what Andrew was doing that year?"
Ronnie's face stiffened. Clearly, she hadn't anticipated Sophia bringing Andrew into this.
"Andrew was running damage control all over town for John's messes. Besides his inner circle, John had zero connections. How could he possibly have trafficked you overseas?" Sophia advanced with measured steps, her heels clicking crisply against the marble floor. "And another thing..."
She suddenly reached out and yanked off Ronnie's golden wig.
"Ah!" Ronnie yelped, frantically covering her exposed buzz cut.
Sophia tossed the wig to the ground with a cold laugh. "Ronnie, your storytelling skills are pathetic."
Mortified and enraged, Ronnie suddenly pulled a switchblade from her bag. "So what! Today I'm going to—"
Before she could finish, a bodyguard clamped down on her wrist, then executed a clean shoulder throw that slammed her hard against the floor.
Her companions were subdued at the same time by Sophia's security team.
"Your acting's even worse than your writing." Sophia looked down at her from her superior position. "Talk. Who put you up to this?"
Ronnie gritted her teeth in defiant silence, the picture of noble suffering.
Just then, a bodyguard retrieved a phone from her pocket.
The most recent message read: [Proceed as planned. Sophia's reputation must be destroyed.]
Sender: Mr. Perez.
Sophia's eyes narrowed to slits.
Perez?
"Interesting." She pulled out her phone with a light laugh and called Andrew. "Andrew, that guy you planted in John's crew—is his name Terry?"
"You rarely call me, and this is the burning question you have?"
Andrew's voice was level, yet calibrated just enough to convey his displeasure.
"He seems to be playing some very new games lately." Sophia's red lips curved upward, her tone laced with amusement and nonchalance.
"Do tell." Andrew sounded genuinely intrigued, willing for once to let the call exceed sixty seconds.
"Ronnie and a bunch of thugs just cornered me in Vertex Innovations Group's parking garage, claiming John trafficked him abroad as some rich pervert's plaything years ago."
"Stupid."
"Is it? I think it's rather clever." Sophia glanced at the people her bodyguards had forced to their knees before her, speaking casually. "Your people are your responsibility. If you won't handle it, I'll have to step in."
"Go play golf if you're bored. These matters dirty your hands."
"Then... my apologies for the trouble, Ms. Smith."
After hanging up, she looked at Ronnie's ashen face, her red lips curling slightly. "Looks like this is more entertaining than I thought."
Harrison, the head of her security detail, stepped forward respectfully. "Boss, what should we do with them?"
Sophia glanced at the nearby security cameras. "Attempted kidnapping of Vertex Innovations Group's CEO in Vertex Innovations Group's parking garage? Send them to the police."
Harrison nodded with perfect understanding. "Yes, ma'am."
Meanwhile, after ending the call, Andrew fell into prolonged silence.
Terry was his mole embedded in John's operation, monitoring John's every move to prevent that rabid dog from creating uncontrollable problems.
For ten years, Terry had shown no signs of disloyalty, consistently reporting John's activities down to the last detail.
So Terry suddenly acting against his orders—had John turned him?
Or... did Terry serve more than one employer?
"Mr. Smith?"
The person before him spoke cautiously, confused by the sudden oppressive shift in Andrew's demeanor.
Andrew shot him a glance, then spread the documents open and shoved them across, tossing a pen along with them. "Sign."
The man looked distressed, stammering, "Mr. Smith, it's not that I don't want to work with you, it's just that this isn't my decision to—"
Before he could finish, a cold glint flashed in Andrew's eyes, his voice low and frigid. "Sign with the pen, or shall I fetch a knife?"
The man instantly fell silent, every hair on his back standing on end as he hastily scrawbled his signature.
Andrew flicked his gaze toward his waiting assistant, Victor Myers. Victor stepped forward smoothly to collect the signed contract. "Pleasure doing business. Allow me to show you out. This way, please."
Once the visitor was escorted away, Andrew remained alone in the lounge.
He prepared coffee with practiced ease, his simple movements exuding innate elegance and nobility.
While waiting for the water to boil, he scrolled through his contacts and dialed Terry.
The man didn't waste time on pleasantries. After connecting, he reported John's activities as usual: "Mr. Andrew Smith, Mr. John Smith has been participating in private gambling tournaments in River City recently. Nothing else out of the ordinary."
"Is that so?" Andrew's tone was neutral, betraying no emotion. "Then who ordered you to send people after Sophia?"
Andrew's slender fingers traced the rim of his coffee cup. The line went silent for two beats.
"Mr. Smith, I don't understand what you mean." Terry's voice remained steady, but his tone tightened at the edges.