Leonard had been noticing it for days now.
Sophie was distracted. Quiet. She smiled when he looked at her, but the warmth behind it had dimmed. Her eyes lingered longer on her phone, her replies came slower, and she had started waking up earlier—leaving for work before he did.
That wasn't like her.
When she slipped out of the house before dawn again, Leonard sent her a simple text:
Leonard: Why so early, love? You okay?
Sophie: Just some things I need to settle before my manager comes in. Don't worry.
He stared at her reply longer than necessary. His gut told him something wasn't right.
The next morning, Sophie stood by the window, her eyes red from lack of sleep. Leonard emerged from the bathroom, drying his hair, but paused when he saw her distant expression.
"Sophie," he said gently, "what's going on?"
She turned to him slowly, forcing a small smile. "I've been thinking… maybe we rushed into this marriage. Maybe we're not right for each other."
Leonard's expression darkened. "What are you talking about?"
"I just… I don't think I can be the wife you need." Her voice cracked slightly, but she hid it with a forced laugh. "It's not about you. It's me. I feel like I'm holding you back."
He stared at her, unmoving. "This isn't like you," he said quietly.
"I want a divorce," she said, the words stabbing through her chest. "It's better for both of us."
Leonard didn't react—not right away. But the storm in his eyes said everything. "No," he said, stepping toward her. "Something's happened. And I'm not letting you walk away until I know the truth."
Sophie's breath hitched. She looked away, trying to keep her composure, but her voice trembled despite her best efforts. "Leonard… please. Don't make this harder than it already is."
He didn't budge. His eyes never left her.
"You love me," he said, not as a question, but a fact. "I know you do. So whatever reason you're standing here—pushing me away—it's not because you've stopped."
Her throat tightened. "That's not the point."
"Then tell me what is," he snapped, his control slipping for the first time. "Because out of nowhere, you're cold, you're hiding something, and now you want a divorce? You think I'll just believe that's for my sake?"
Sophie's eyes welled, but she forced herself to stay still. "I don't want to hurt you."
"Then why are you lying to me?" Leonard stepped closer, his voice low, raw. "Was it someone? Did someone say something to you? Threaten you?"
She flinched—but that small reaction was all it took. Leonard's expression shifted, sharp and dangerous.
"Who was it, Sophie?"
"I can't," she whispered, backing away. "Please… just let it go."
But Leonard shook his head. "No. You're my wife. And no matter what you think you're protecting me from—whatever it is—you're not doing this alone."
A tear slipped down her cheek and she turned and walked away
Leonard's heart dropped as she turned from him, her shoulders trembling as she walked away.
He didn't stop her—not yet. His fists clenched at his sides, jaw tight with frustration and fear.
The tear on her cheek said more than her words ever could.
Something was wrong. Deeply wrong.
And if Sophie wouldn't tell him now, he'd find out himself.
*****
That afternoon, Sophie's phone buzzed in her pocket. She stepped away from her desk and glanced at the screen.
Unknown Number: Tonight. 8PM. Orchid Hill Car Park, Level 2. Come alone if you want the photos.
She swallowed hard. Her fingers trembled as she typed:
Sophie: I'll be there.
She didn't know what terrified her more—the threat of those photos going public, or the idea of Leonard finding out before she could protect him.
The sky was already dusky when Sophie arrived at Orchid Hill, the lights casting long shadows across the empty car park. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, her steps tentative.
A familiar figure stepped out from behind a pillar.
Her breath caught.
"Ryan?" she said in disbelief. "You…?"
The man smirked, casual in his stance but eyes sharp. "Surprised? I figured you'd remember me. After all, I've been around Amelia long enough."
Sophie stiffened. "You sent those texts?"
He didn't deny it.
"She was the one who took the photos," he said with a shrug. "Amelia had them saved. Guess she was very generous to share them with me."
Sophie's stomach twisted. "Why?"
Ryan leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Because Amelia wanted to ruin you. But when I saw your photos… "You've got a killer body hidden under all those modest clothes. Who knew?"
Her hands clenched into fists under the table. "You're disgusting."
Ryan smirked. "Maybe. But I'm also the one with all the copies." He pulled out his phone, swiping to a photo—Sophie, unaware, in a moment of vulnerability. "I've had a lot of fun with these. You had no idea how many times I cum for you"
Her stomach turned. "Delete them."
"Or what?" He tilted his head. "Here's my offer: one night with me, and I'll hand over every last one. No more leaks, no more humiliation." His voice dropped. "And trust me, you'll enjoy it just as much as I will."
But before he could say more, footsteps echoed behind them—steady, sharp, familiar.
Sophie turned and froze.
Leonard Yan stepped into view, his expression thunderous.
"Sophie," he said tightly. "Go wait in the car."
Her eyes widened in horror. "Leonard—"
"Now."
Sophie's feet remained planted, her heart pounding against her ribs. But the look in Leonard's eyes—sharp, cold, unmistakably furious—left no room for argument.
She nodded faintly and backed away, casting one last glance at Ryan before turning toward the car. Her legs were shaking.
Leonard didn't even watch her leave. His focus was locked solely on the man in front of him.
Ryan tried to mask his unease with a scoff. "Well, well. The CEO himself. Guess the wife didn't follow instructions."
Leonard walked forward slowly, each step echoing with quiet menace. "You sent her threatening messages. Blackmailed her. Used photos taken without her knowledge."
He stopped inches away from Ryan, his voice dropping low. "Tell me. How do you want to disappear—quietly or screaming?"
Ryan stiffened, his bravado faltering. "She came on her own. She agreed to meet. I didn't force her."
Leonard's jaw clenched. "And what was your plan? Extort her? Humiliate her? Touch what doesn't belong to you?"
Ryan opened his mouth, but Leonard didn't wait for a reply. His hand shot out and slammed Ryan against the concrete wall, forearm pressing across his chest.
Ryan gasped, squirming. "I didn't mean—"
"You touched Sophie's peace of mind," Leonard said coldly. "And for that, I don't need a reason to destroy you. I only need time."
He let Ryan drop with a harsh shove. The man stumbled and crumpled to the ground, coughing.
Leonard crouched slightly, his voice deadly calm. "You'll send me every copy of those photos. The original files. The backups. All of it. Or I'll make sure your name never appears in this city again except in lawsuits and police reports."
Ryan swallowed hard. "And what about Amelia?"
Leonard straightened slowly. "She'll answer me next."
Outside, Sophie stood by the car, arms folded tightly across her chest, tears slipping silently down her cheeks.
Leonard walked over moments later, his steps slower now. The fury in his eyes had softened, replaced by something deeper—hurt, confusion… and protectiveness.
"Sophie," he said gently.
She looked up, eyes wide and red. "I'm sorry…"
But he didn't let her finish. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest, holding her like she was something breakable.
"I should've known something was wrong," he murmured. "You were never alone in this. Never."
Her tears returned in full force, and she buried her face into his shoulder.
"I just wanted to protect you," she whispered.
Leonard's grip tightened. "Then let me protect you, too."
*****
That night, the Yan residence was quiet.
Sophie sat by the bedroom window, her knees drawn up to her chest, wrapped in one of Leonard's cardigans. The city lights blinked softly in the distance, but her eyes were unfocused. She didn't hear Leonard enter the room until his warm presence filled the space behind her.
He didn't speak. Instead, he crouched down beside her and gently placed a cup of chamomile tea on the windowsill.
"Can't sleep?" he asked quietly.
Sophie shook her head, her fingers tightening slightly around her knees. "I thought I could handle things on my own… but I made it worse."
Leonard sat down beside her, his arm looping gently around her shoulders. "Sophie," he murmured, his voice steady, "don't ever carry that weight alone. Not when I'm here."
She looked at him, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. "I was afraid… of hurting you. Of dragging your name into something shameful."
He cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing away a tear. "There's nothing shameful about being hurt. And there's nothing more dangerous than someone trying to break the woman I love."
Her breath caught. "You still… love me?"
Leonard leaned in, pressing his forehead gently against hers. "There's never been a moment I didn't."
Her tears fell freely now, quiet sobs shaking her shoulders. Leonard pulled her into his arms and held her tightly, letting her cry without rushing, without judgment—just presence. Just love.
When her breathing finally slowed, he whispered, "We'll get through this. Together. But I need you to promise something."
Sophie looked up, her eyes red but steady.
"Don't shut me out again. We face everything as one—no more hiding, no more protecting me from the truth."
She nodded slowly. "I promise."
He kissed her forehead, then her cheek, his embrace tightening. "Good. Because I have a few things to handle. But tonight, we will rest." In that quiet moment, she lay curled against him in bed.
The next morning, Leonard stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows in his private study, a phone pressed to his ear.
"Everything she sent," he said coldly. "I want it all traced—who received it, where it was backed up, any digital footprint. Erase it. All of it."
"Yes, sir," came the reply on the other end.
He ended the call, slipped his phone into his pocket, and exhaled slowly. Not out of weariness—but control. Calculated restraint. The kind he only showed when his fury simmered just below the surface.
Sophie entered the room quietly, dressed for work, her presence tentative. "Leonard…"
He turned, softening immediately. "Come here."
She walked into his arms, and he held her for a long moment. "You don't have to handle this," she whispered. "I'm okay now."
His hand gently stroked her back. "I know you are. But this—what Amelia did—it crossed a line."
Sophie looked up at him. "What… what will you do?"
Leonard's voice was low, but clear. "Nothing rash. But effective."
He pulled back slightly and met her eyes. "Amelia wanted to ruin you because she couldn't take your place. She wanted me—and when she couldn't have me, she chose to humiliate the one I love."
Sophie's hands curled lightly against his chest. "I don't want this to escalate. I just want it to stop."
Leonard nodded. "It will. But Amelia Lin will never have the power to hurt you again."
He kissed her forehead and guided her toward the door. "Go to work. I'll handle the rest."
As soon as the door closed behind her, Leonard picked up his phone again.
"Prepare everything," he said to the receiver. "Lin Corporation's ties to illegal data acquisition, their tax discrepancies—dig it all up. I want airtight documentation. Don't release anything yet. Just hold it."
"Understood."
Leonard ended the call, his expression unreadable.
No scandal. No public fight. But when he was done, Amelia Lin would be quietly, thoroughly removed from every social circle she clung to—and she wouldn't even know who had pulled the strings.
For hurting Sophie… Leonard would show her what it meant to lose everything.
Amelia adjusted her pearl earrings in the mirror, admiring her reflection with a satisfied smile. She had an event to attend later that day—one of those glamorous charity luncheons where high society women paraded in couture and exchanged half-smiles laced with envy. She lived for these. It was her world. Her stage.
But just as she reached for her purse, the doorbell rang.
She frowned. It was barely noon.
Her heels clicked sharply against the marble floor as she walked to the door and opened it—only to find two uniformed police officers standing on the front steps.
"Miss Amelia Lin?" one of them asked.
She blinked, momentarily stunned. "Yes…?"
"We're here to speak with you regarding an ongoing investigation involving unauthorized surveillance, personal data violations, and distribution of illicit photos."
Her heart stopped.
"I—what?" she laughed nervously. "There must be a mistake."
One of the officers held up a document. "We have a warrant to search the premises and confiscate all digital devices."
Panic bloomed in her chest like wildfire.
"You can't just—! I haven't done anything!"
The officers didn't flinch. "Miss Lin, if you cooperate, this can go much more smoothly."
They stepped inside, beginning their search while she stood frozen in place, blood draining from her face. Her phone buzzed in her hand. She looked down to see an email notification from a magazine editor—"Feature postponed indefinitely."
Another buzz. A message from her stylist: "Apologies, we're suspending your partnership. Clients are concerned about negative press."
She staggered back a step.
And she knew. It was Leonard Yan.