The True Heiress’s Third Silent Day!
Sophia immediately looked away.
Agatha Carrington frowned. “Why hasn’t this child said a word? Is she really that shy?”
It was only then that Margaret Richmond realized they hadn’t heard Sophia’s voice since she arrived. The expressions on the faces of both Richmond women darkened, and Isabella quickly jumped in, “My sister is just a little introverted and doesn’t like to talk much.”
Just as the atmosphere was beginning to tense, someone else spoke up.
“Grandmother, I’d like to speak with Sophia Richmond alone.”
The voice came from the eldest Carrington son, seated in his wheelchair. His tone was rich and melodious, like the sound of water dripping onto cool stone under the moonlight—low and haunting, enough to send shivers down the spine.
The room fell silent, stunned by his sudden request. Even Agatha Carrington, momentarily forgetting her displeasure, looked delighted. “Of course, of course! Go ahead! It’s not often you speak up.”
She then took Eleanor Richmond’s hand and said, “In the decade we’ve known each other, Seb has never shown the slightest interest in Bella. But your Sophia shows up, and he immediately notices her. Seems my grandson takes after me—he’s all about looks!”
Isabella’s expression twisted, her gaze toward Sophia filled with jealousy and resentment.
But by then, Sophia was already wheeling Sebastian Carrington outside. A man who appeared to be a secretary followed them silently, and once they were outside, he stayed inside the hall, closing the terrace door behind them.
The glass door reflected the secretary’s silhouette like a guardian at the entrance.
Sophia turned her attention back to Sebastian Carrington.
In the dim lighting, Sebastian’s features were even more stunning up close—so beautiful it was almost shocking. Despite his cold and distant gaze, there was an inherent nobility in the way he observed the world.
No wonder so many women had looked at her with a mix of envy and fear as she pushed his wheelchair across the room.
Envy, because they admired him; fear, because they revered him.
And perhaps, there was a touch of schadenfreude mixed in as well—all because of… those legs.
Sophia lowered her gaze to his legs, covered by a thin blanket. Even seated, it was clear they were long and perfectly formed. One could easily imagine how tall and graceful he would be if he stood. If those legs were truly crippled, it would be a terrible shame, but…
“A child adopted by the dean of an orphanage in Pasadena suddenly becomes the heiress of California’s Richmond Family. Ms. Sophia, could you explain what game you’re playing?”
Sophia looked up at the sound of his voice, meeting Sebastian Carrington’s cold, brooding gaze.
She glanced back at the hall, where the guests mingled and the lights sparkled, confirming that no one was close enough to overhear them. Then, she smiled faintly and turned back to Sebastian.
“From a healthy, dog-walking neighbor to a crippled heir of a wealthy family—you made that transition overnight. Believe me, Mr. Carrington, I’m just as surprised as you are.”
This was the first time Sophia had spoken since arriving in L.A. Her voice was clear and sweet, reminiscent of a freshly bloomed rose, still dewy with morning mist. But her words were as sharp as the thorns on that rose, cutting and pointed.
She tilted her head slightly as she looked at Sebastian Carrington. “Unless you’re telling me that the man I saw walking his dog in Pasadena last night was your twin brother?”
There they stood, one sitting, the other standing, both staring at each other with cold, assessing eyes.
After what seemed like an eternity, Sebastian Carrington laughed.
The shadow of gloom vanished, and his flawless features lit up with a dazzling smile, so bright it was almost blinding even in the dim light.
Sophia narrowed her eyes slightly as he spoke again. “It seems we both have secrets to keep.”
“I don’t,” Sophia replied. “The ones trying to hide something are the Richmonds, not me.”
“Aren’t you part of the Richmond Family?”
“That’s still under review.”
“Are you evaluating them, or are they evaluating you?”
“What do you think?”
…
They fell silent again.
In the brief exchange, Sebastian Carrington had grasped something he wanted, and his smile grew even more radiant.
“I guess, regardless of which it is, you need to stay with the Richmond Family,” he said, his tone lighter, almost friendly. “If that’s the case, maybe we don’t need to be so adversarial.”
He extended his hand toward Sophia. “Ms. Sophia, how about this? You keep my secret, and I’ll help you stay with the Richmond Family.”
Sophia glanced at his outstretched hand. “How will you help me?”
“Simple. We’ll fulfill the marriage contract.”
“I don’t want to marry you.”
“I don’t want to marry you either,” Sebastian Carrington said calmly. “So we just need to pretend to be an engaged couple for the public.”
“For how long?”
“One year.”
“Deal.”
Their hands clasped in agreement.
Sebastian Carrington immediately noticed the calluses on her palm and fingertips, feeling a surge of curiosity. But before he could dwell on it, Sophia pulled her hand away without hesitation.
The young woman in the simple evening gown turned and looked through the glass doors at the brightly lit hall and the figures moving inside. Without turning back, she asked, “Are you sure that by fulfilling the marriage contract, I’ll be able to stay with the Richmond Family?”
“Absolutely.”
Sophia finally smiled.
Her complexion was pale and cool, her eyes dark and deep. When she was silent, she exuded a delicate, almost ethereal fragility, like moonlight spilling over snow. But when she smiled, it was like a rose blooming in the moonlight—bold, yet coldly beautiful.
Sebastian Carrington stared at her profile, momentarily dazed by her beauty. But Sophia had already turned and walked back inside.
As the glass doors closed behind her, the man narrowed his eyes, watching her retreating figure. He didn’t follow but instead took out his phone and dialed a number.
“Hello, Grandpa? Can you tell me more about the child Dean Harris adopted? Her name is Sophia—what kind of person is she?”
·
Sophia held a wine glass as she searched the buffet for a dessert she wanted to try.
She had just popped a small cake into her mouth when she heard a mocking voice behind her.
“Bella, is this your sister from the countryside? She doesn’t seem to fit in with the Richmond Family’s standards.”
“Don’t say that. My sister is just not used to being home yet. If anyone bullies her, they’ll have to answer to me.”
“Do you really think we’re the type to bully someone?”
“Hey, we’ve been talking about her for this long, and she hasn’t even turned around to say hello. Isn’t that a bit rude?”
“It’s like she’s never been in high society before—like the country bumpkin in the old stories. Understandable, I guess.”
“Even though Sebastian Carrington is crippled, I never thought he’d end up engaged to someone like her…”
…
Sophia spotted a coconut milk cake she liked and was about to reach for it when a delicate, manicured hand snatched it first.
“Ms. Richmond, we’re talking to you, and you don’t even turn around? Isn’t that a bit ungrateful?”
A sweet but arrogant voice piped up beside her, causing Sophia to pause. She slowly picked up another piece of coconut milk cake and placed it on her plate before finally turning around.
Several people stood before her, both men and women, but the one at the center, like the sun surrounded by stars, was Isabella.
Isabella gazed at Sophia with feigned concern. “Sister, are you too hungry? Should I have the butler prepare some hot dishes for you?”
“Do you not get enough to eat in the countryside?” The girl standing beside Sophia, who she didn’t recognize, tilted her head and asked, “What kind of life did you lead before this? Have you ever seen jewelry? Ever had steak?”
Her tone was so naively condescending that it drew laughter from the group. Even Isabella couldn’t help but chuckle, though she quickly tried to hush them. “Ruo Wei! Don’t make fun of my sister! She’s my real sister!”
“Right, right,” a man who had been checking his watch finally looked up at Sophia, frowning. “Sophia, is it? I’m your cousin… I just heard your mother say you haven’t spoken a word since you came back. Are you sick, or…?”
He hesitated, his expression becoming more curious. “You’re not… mute, are you?”