A few hours later—
Ethan slowly came to.
The first thing he saw was the rope tied tightly around his wrists.
"You're awake?"
Sophia's voice was hoarse, low, almost dangerous. She was wearing an oversized white shirt—it was Lucas's.
"Sophia, you—"
"Ethan," she interrupted, her tone cold, "you really never learn, do you? Teaming up with Aiden to drug me?"
"No! Sophia, that's not what happened—please, let me explain!"
She gave a small, chilling laugh. "Explain? Do I look stupid enough to believe you?"
Sophia walked closer, something small and unfamiliar in her hand—a stick of burning incense. She exhaled softly, letting the faint smoke curl between them.
"Sophia, what are you doing? I was wrong, I admit it—I just… I love you, that's all!"
"Love?" she repeated, her lips curving into a razor-sharp smile. "Perfect. Because I love this version of you—pathetic and tied up."
"Is it done?"
