Chapter 80: Coming Clean
When Harper got home, she tossed her purse onto the couch and sat down with the script in hand. She read it carefully—line by line, scene by scene—yet the more she read, the stronger a feeling grew in her chest.
Sophia was hiding something.
Her best friend always had that calm, mysterious air about her, like a woman who carried too many secrets in too small a heart.
Harper sighed, grabbed her phone, and did what she always did when she couldn’t sleep—scrolled through the trending list.
The top post made her freeze.
A "mysterious composer’s" new album.
Her thumb hovered before tapping it open.
The moment the first notes played, her brows furrowed.
That voice—soft, smooth, threaded with melancholy—was too familiar.
As if to confirm what she already knew, she bought the album and let it play again. By the time the chorus hit, she was sitting completely still, the phone glowing faintly in her hand.
Sophia... it’s you, isn’t it?
They’d been through hell together—life, death, and everything in between. But this? This was something else.
Then her phone buzzed.
Sophia had texted her.
The message was long—several screens of tightly written words. Harper read through them, her shock softening into laughter.
"Typical Sophia," she murmured. "Too honest to keep a secret for long."
At least she’d chosen to confess, instead of letting Harper find out on her own.
...
Meanwhile, in the driver’s seat of her car, Sophia let her forehead fall gently against the steering wheel with a dull thunk.
She was terrible at lying.
Harper might look carefree, but she was sharp—sharp enough to cut through steel. And worse, she’d been there the night Sophia performed that unreleased song at the bar. If Harper connected the dots, no explanation would hold.
Now Harper wasn’t replying.
Was she mad?
"Mommy... are you okay?"
Six pairs of innocent eyes blinked at her from the backseat.
"Mommy lied to Auntie Harper," Angela said with a small frown. "She’s upset."
Billy added matter-of-factly, "You really aren’t good at lying, Mommy. Not to her... not to us either."
Sophia groaned. "Fantastic. I’m raising a jury."
Just then, her phone buzzed again.
Harper’s message popped up:
[Save the apologies. You owe me two hotpot dinners. I’ll pick the menu.]
Sophia couldn’t help laughing, relief washing over her.
...
Upstairs in her apartment, Harper watched from the balcony as Sophia’s car drove away. A grin spread across her face.
That woman’s full of surprises, she thought. And if she’s climbing higher, I’d better hold on tight.
...
Sophia didn’t go home. Instead, she drove straight to Hilton Group.
When Lucas emerged from his meeting, his expression darkened at the sight of her—elegant in a high-collar blouse, eyes bright with mischief.
"What are you doing here?" he asked coolly.
Sophia arched a brow. "What, Mr. Hilton? One meeting and you’ve already forgotten your wife?"
He shot a glance at Alex. "Take the kids upstairs. Order them something to eat."
Once they left, Sophia sank into the couch. Lucas came up behind her, his large hands settling on her shoulders, his voice dropping to a gentler tone.
"So," he murmured, "what brings you here?"
"JL Entertainment," she said quietly. "That’s your company."
His fingers paused for a heartbeat. "Yes."
"Did you know Olivia signed with them?"
"No," he said flatly, without hesitation.
Sophia’s chest loosened slightly, though she wasn’t sure why.
"It’s nothing," she said. "I just found it strange. She hasn’t been there long, yet she’s already getting top-tier resources. It’s... unusual. Someone’s backing her."
Lucas hummed, neither confirming nor denying.
The massage lulled her, tension melting from her shoulders. Sleep tugged at her, soft and slow.
There were still things she needed to do—but not tonight. Let them think she was waiting.
...
A few days later.
Sophia stood before Scott Group’s glass tower, her heels clicking sharply as she strode inside.
When the receptionist announced her, Devin’s lips curved in a knowing smile.
By the time she reached his office, she was all crisp lines and confidence.
"You came," he said smoothly.
Sophia tilted her head. "Mr. Scott, you predicted I would, didn’t you? Why pretend to be surprised?"
Devin clasped his hands on the desk, his grin deepening. "You’re right. I did expect you—just not this late."
"Late?" she echoed lightly. "Mr. Scott waited several days for me. I couldn’t bear to disappoint you."
He laughed softly, eyes glinting. "Miss Morgan, you really are as perceptive as they say."
"Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Scott," Sophia said coolly, crossing her arms. "But if you have something to say, just say it. I don’t like guessing games."
Devin’s lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. With a graceful hand, he gestured toward the chair across from his desk. "Then, Miss Morgan, at least sit down first. We can talk properly."
Sophia took the seat, crossing one leg over the other in a poised, almost regal manner. Her expression was calm, but her tone carried the weight of someone used to commanding boardrooms.
"All right," she said. "Let’s hear it. What do you want?"
Devin leaned back, studying her like a man who already knew too much. "Since you’re a straightforward woman, I won’t waste your time. I want to work with you."
That caught her off guard. Her brows lifted. "Work with me? Are you serious, Mr. Scott?"
He nodded once, voice smooth as glass. "I don’t believe in pretending. I’ve done my homework, Miss Morgan. After you left the country six years ago, you didn’t just vanish—you took over YL Group, one of the fastest-growing global conglomerates.
"To be precise," he continued, his gaze sharpening, "you’re the real chairwoman of YL. Marcus—your so-called business partner—is merely a cover. He’s been protecting your identity so you could return home quietly and handle your own affairs. Even your so-called family—the Morgans—have no idea. Right?"
Sophia’s fingers twitched slightly, but her smile never faltered.
So he had dug into her past.
But calling the Morgans her "family"? That was almost amusing.
"You’re not entirely wrong," she said evenly. "But since you brought up the Morgans as my family, you’ve already proven how little you actually know me.
"And if you want to ’work with me,’ you should also know one thing—partnerships with me come with risks. So tell me, Mr. Scott—what exactly do you bring to the table?"
Her calm, cutting tone made Devin pause. He hadn’t expected to be questioned so directly.
Then, with an unflinching smile, he said, "YL’s power speaks for itself. I want to collaborate with your company, yes—but that’s not all." His voice dipped lower. "The truth is, I also want to pursue you."
Sophia blinked once, then laughed softly—a sound that was more dangerous than amused. "Pursue me? Mr. Scott, get in line. You’ll find the queue stretches across continents. Tell me, who gave you this kind of confidence? In case you forgot, I’m married to Lucas."
Devin’s tone turned silky, almost teasing. "Married on paper, yes. But love? No. Yours is a contractual relationship—I know everything about it. In fact, I know far more than you think I do."
For the first time, a faint crease appeared between Sophia’s brows.
He knows about the contract?
Only Harper was aware of that secret.
Her gaze sharpened. "So what is it, then? You’ve planted something on Lucas? Or maybe on me?"
Devin’s smile didn’t waver. "Let’s just say, I have my own ways of staying informed. I’m not as powerless as you might think."
He looked absolutely certain that she’d accept his offer. That confidence alone made Sophia want to prove him wrong.
After a quiet pause, she tilted her head and asked softly, "There’s one more thing I’ve been curious about. I’ve heard I resemble your late sister. Tell me, Mr. Scott—are you trying to work with me... or?"
The words hit their mark.
Devin’s charming composure shattered; his expression darkened immediately.
Sophia leaned back in her chair, a faint smile curling her lips. "You were going to ask how I knew, weren’t you?" she said, her tone feather-light, but her eyes razor sharp. "If I didn’t know, Mr. Scott... I wouldn’t be sitting in front of you right now."