Chapter 27 Fighting Like They Want Each Other Dead
Sophia leaned against the window, watching until she saw the dented limited-edition Aventador driving away, only then pulling her gaze back.
Having dealt with John today, tomorrow would be Andrew's turn.
James emerged after changing clothes, seeing Sophia standing by the window with a somewhat dejected mood. After hesitating a moment, he asked, "You and John have a good relationship?"
If they didn't, John probably wouldn't have made this special trip to take her away, right?
Sophia froze, then burst into laughter—bitter and sarcastic. "James, the Johnson family only went bankrupt two years ago. Haven't you heard about me and the Smith brothers before?"
James pressed his lips together. Back when the Johnson family was still among the elite circles, he rarely attended business events and had never met the Smiths in person.
But he'd heard the rumors—the Smith family had two sons and one daughter who were constantly at each other's throats, locked in mutual hatred, fighting like they wanted each other dead.
"Rumors aren't necessarily true. He seems to care about you deep down."
Sophia raised an eyebrow. She couldn't handle a psychopath's version of caring.
When she was five and still naive, craving family warmth and protection, she'd been bullied at kindergarten and went to John for help.
Normal thinking would be for the big brother to stand up for his little sister, march to school, and teach those bullies a lesson.
But John, that lunatic, dragged her to taekwondo classes, saying if she could fight well enough, no one could bully her.
Then he personally trained her. Facing Sophia, a five-year-old beginner, he showed no mercy whatsoever, breaking one of her ribs and landing her in the hospital for three months.
During those three months, only the housekeeper Beth cared for her, with Michael visiting after school each day.
The perpetrator never showed his face, never even sent a word of concern.
When she recovered and left the hospital, seeing John again, he showed no remorse whatsoever. He complained she was too weak and suggested she learn kickboxing next time.
When she was ten, John had just turned eighteen and gotten his driver's license. He forced her into the passenger seat for illegal street racing on mountain roads, nearly driving them off a cliff.
At twelve, still powerless to resist, John used her as a betting chip with his rich car-racing friends, wagering she wouldn't dare dodge even if a car came straight at her.
She naturally refused. John tied her to a chair and positioned her at the finish line like a toy. He drove straight at her at 90 mph, only jerking the wheel away at the last second.
There were many similar incidents. Sophia nearly died at John's hands multiple times.
What kind of family member was that? Who would dare want such relatives?
"The Smith family is hell. I escaped, so naturally I won't go back with them." Sophia curved her lips in a smile, her eyes devoid of emotion.
James fell silent. Though he couldn't read her thoughts completely, he could guess her life hadn't been as glamorous as they'd imagined.
It was nearly time to leave. Sophia changed clothes and shouldered her small backpack, accompanying James to his web series audition.
Boarding the bus, Sophia studied the young man beside her and couldn't help asking, "James, how long has it been since you bought new clothes?"
Jeans were fine; they looked better with wear, lasting six or seven years as long as the waist fit and the legs weren't too short. But his white button-down was already yellowing, the collar stretched out of shape.
She remembered checking James's closet when she first arrived at the Johnson house. Besides school uniforms, he only had three or four casual outfits, all quite worn.
His shoes were even worse—a pair of yellowed white canvas sneakers and some knockoff athletic shoes with peeling leather, probably sixty dollars a pair.
Sophia couldn't understand it. Emily had seven or eight pairs of beautiful shoes under her bed. Why wouldn't James buy himself a couple of new pairs?
Living in the same household with such different spending levels, spoiling Emily to this extent. Was it really worth it?
James managed an embarrassed smile. "I don't really care about fashion. Girls are different; at the most beautiful age, they should dress prettily. So most of my part-time job money went to buying Emily clothes and skincare products. I didn't save much for myself."
He used to think all his hard work and savings spent on Emily's clothes and shoes were worthwhile.
Now, he could only say he didn't regret it.
Even though Emily had coldly ignored all his efforts, at least he could face his conscience knowing he'd never treated Emily unfairly.
Sophia pursed her lips and sighed quietly.
The Johnson family members were the strangest people she'd ever met. Was Emily some kind of angel?
For two years, despite her endless complaints and frequent verbal abuse, they remained willingly devoted and hardworking.
What was the point?
"James, you can't go out into the world without decent clothes to maintain your image. Working as a restaurant server was one thing, but now you're auditioning for web series roles, you can't dress so plainly and let people look down on you. Dress properly, and your presence will be more impressive, giving you a chance at better roles."
Sophia's earnest persuasion continued as she checked the time. They'd left after lunch and still had plenty of time.
"Let's buy new clothes nearby and change first. When interviewing at big companies, you need to look presentable."
Growing up in a wealthy family, Sophia understood the social rules from an early age.
Everyone compared. Between someone dressed casually and someone who presented themselves cleanly and neatly, others would naturally see the latter as more spirited and capable.
If your clothing was old and shabby, facing important situations alongside well-dressed people would inevitably create feelings of inferiority, defeat before the battle began.
So even without substance, you had to maintain appearances. You couldn't lose in terms of presence.
"Alright, you can help me choose." James smiled warmly, feeling touched.
Emily had never even thanked him, let alone considered his needs like this. Only Sophia noticed these details, reminding and helping him.
They took the bus for five stops, then transferred to the subway for thirty minutes before reaching their destination.
First, they found a brand-name clothing store to buy James a decent outfit to change into.
But just as they entered the store, before they could pick out something appealing, a sharp, cutting voice rang out from the entrance.
"Well, well! If it isn't Ms. Smith! Used to wear designer pieces worth tens of thousands, now dressed in cheap rags worth a few hundred bucks—I almost didn't recognize you!"
Sophia turned around, and seeing the girl with the bouncy curls, her red lips curved into a smile as she shot back mercilessly, "Ms. Taylor, you can only recognize people by their clothes now? Seems your eyesight's gotten pretty bad. You should get to a hospital for a checkup soon, before the condition spreads to your brain and rots it completely."