Chapter 255

"You look so much like your mother..." he murmured. "If my real granddaughter were still here, she'd be about your age now. Two granddaughters keeping me company—wouldn't that be something."

Claire's fingers tightened sharply around Chase's arm.

Her smile froze on her face for half a second before she forced it back into place. "Grandpa, what are you saying? I am your granddaughter."

Chase patted the back of her hand without another word, just nodded. A flicker of loneliness passed through his eyes and vanished.

Hazel stood nearby, her smile so strained it was ready to crack.

His real granddaughter.

Always his real granddaughter.

Sophia.

That name drove into Claire's chest like a poisoned needle.

She lowered her head, nails digging deep into the soft flesh of her palms.

Why? She'd been in this family for over twenty years. Devoted herself to Chase for over twenty years. And in the end, the one he longed for was still that so-called real granddaughter lost to the world.

Sophia had already stolen Gerald. Now she was going to steal Grandpa's heart too.

Everything good always went to her.

Everything was supposed to be hers.

Why.

Claire clenched her jaw. In the dark depths of her eyes, hatred threatened to spill over.

---

The next morning, Sophia was jolted awake by the persistent buzzing of her phone on the pillow.

She fumbled for it, squinting at the screen. Caspian.

"Hello, Caspian?"

"You up?" His voice was bright and clear. "I've got some business near your apartment today. You ready? I'll swing by and give you a ride to work."

Sophia propped herself halfway up from under the covers, raking a hand through her hair. "I'm up. When will you get here?"

"Fifteen minutes."

"Okay." Sophia kicked off the blanket and got out of bed. "Call me when you're downstairs. I'll come down."

She hung up, did a quick wash, went to the kitchen, and pulled a piece of toast from the toaster. She bit into it while checking the time on her phone.

8:10 AM.

She grabbed her bag and headed out.

The elevator descended slowly. Sophia looked down, tapping out a couple of work messages on her phone.

The doors opened. She stepped out.

She looked up—and stopped.

Outside the apartment building entrance, a tall figure leaned against a black sedan, impeccably suited, a thermal bag hanging from the crook of his arm.

Gerald.

He'd clearly been waiting a while. Morning dew clung to the toes of his shoes, but his expression showed no impatience. The moment she appeared, his lips shifted—loosened by half a degree.

"Morning." His voice was low and unhurried. "I was passing by. Brought you breakfast."

He lifted the thermal bag slightly. "Pancakes from that place you used to like. And corn porridge."

Sophia stood on the front steps, her gaze drifting over the bag, then over the softness he was clearly forcing onto his features.

"Mr. Churchill." Her voice was flat. "I've told you—aside from matters concerning our child, I don't want any personal involvement with you. Don't bother with pointless gestures like this again."

She sidestepped to walk around him.

Gerald shifted, blocking her path.

"Sophia."

He looked down at her, his voice dropping. "I don't mean anything by it. Just breakfast. One bite won't cost you more than a few minutes."

"I don't need you bringing me breakfast." Sophia met his eyes directly. "And I'm not one of your women who needs to be waited on. Gerald, move."

Gerald didn't move.

His dark eyes pressed down on her. "Then tell me—what would be meaningful to you?"

Sophia's chest rose once. The question hit a nerve; a vein pulsed at her temple.

She drew a deep breath, refusing to get tangled up with him here, and tried to step around his side.

Gerald's hand shot out. His fingers closed around her wrist.

The warmth of his palm seared against her skin.

"Let go." Her voice went cold.

"Take the breakfast. Then I'll let go." His tone was flat, brooking no argument.

Sophia stared at him for two seconds. Then she stopped struggling.

She pulled her phone from her pocket, tapped the screen rapidly, and raised it to her ear.

The call connected.

"Hello, I'd like to report a disturbance."

Gerald's brow creased.

"I'm being harassed outside my apartment building. Someone is blocking me and won't let me leave." Sophia's voice was clear and steady as she recited the address, then hung up.

She looked up, meeting the storm clouds gathering in his eyes, and let one corner of her mouth twitch. "We can wait for the police. Mr. Churchill, if you'd rather not be embarrassed, you can leave now. I won't stop you."

Gerald's grip on her wrist didn't loosen. His jawline was rigid as iron.

He stared at her face, his voice pressed to barely a whisper. "You really have to do this?"

Sophia didn't answer.

She turned her head away, gaze landing on the distant street corner. Detached. She wouldn't spare him even an extra expression.

Soon, a patrol car pulled up to the curb, lights flashing.

Two officers stepped out, spotted the standoff at the entrance, and walked over briskly.

"What's going on? Who called this in?"

Sophia tugged at her wrist, indicating where it was held. "I did. This man is blocking the door and won't let me pass."

The officer glanced at Gerald. "Sir, please let go first. Let's talk this through calmly."

Gerald's gaze swept across the officer's face. Finally, slowly, his fingers uncurled.

The instant his fingertips slid free of her wrist, Sophia stepped back.

The officers stood between them, going through the motions—suggesting they communicate, work things out, no need to escalate to a police call.

Gerald's lips remained pressed together. He didn't say a single unnecessary word throughout, though his demeanor stayed cooperative enough.

In the end, under the officers' mediation, both parties agreed to let it go.

Sophia caught Caspian's car arriving in her peripheral vision.

She immediately turned and walked toward it.

The passenger window rolled down. Caspian leaned over to look at her, then glanced at Gerald's dark expression near the building entrance. He reached over and unlocked the door.

Sophia pulled it open, slid in, and pulled it shut firmly behind her.

"Drive."

Caspian didn't hesitate. He hit the gas and the car pulled smoothly away from the curb.

In the rearview mirror, Gerald's figure grew smaller and smaller, finally disappearing around the bend.

His posture never changed the entire time.

Sophia sank back into the seat and closed her eyes. The knot of tension in her chest slowly unwound with a long exhale.

Caspian pulled his gaze from the rearview mirror. "You okay?"

"Fine." Sophia opened her eyes, irritation bleeding through despite her best efforts. "He's insane. If it weren't for Milo, I'd never want to see him again for the rest of my life."

Caspian didn't pursue the topic.

He reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a thermal container, handing it to her.

"Picked this up on my way past that shop this morning. The sandwich you said you wanted to try, and a hot cocoa."