Chapter 2
At the dining table.
Ethan Roscente put down his chopsticks.
"No oatmeal porridge?"
"You mean the stomach-soothing kind?"
"Stomach-soothing?"
"Yes, the kind Miss Sophia often made."
"Millet, Chinese yam, lily bulbs, and jujubes."
"It's very time-consuming."
"The ingredients need to be soaked overnight."
"You have to get up early to stew it."
"The heat control is particularly tricky."
"I'm not as careful as Miss Sophia."
"I can't replicate that flavor..."
Ethan said, "Get the salsa."
"Coming right up."
"...This tastes wrong." He glanced at the jar.
"The packaging is different too."
"The previous one was finished. This is all we have."
"Go to the supermarket and buy two jars."
"You can't buy it."
"?"
Martha laughed awkwardly.
"Miss Sophia made this herself. I don't know how..."
Clatter!
"Young Master, are you done eating?"
"Hmm."
Martha watched the man's retreating back as he went upstairs, her face full of confusion.
Why was he suddenly upset?
...
"Lazybones! Get up!"
Sophia Sullivan rolled over, eyes still closed.
"Stop it, let me sleep a bit longer..."
Olivia Lopez, finished with her makeup, was choosing a bag.
"It's almost eight. Aren't you going back to make breakfast for his highness, Mr. Roscente?"
Before, when Sophia stayed over, she would rush back before dawn.
Just to make that nourishing porridge for Ethan's sensitive stomach.
Olivia had always found it ridiculous.
Did Ethan Roscente not have hands or a phone?
How hard was it to order takeout?
It was a habit born purely from being spoiled!
Sophia, deep in sleep, waved a hand.
"Not going back. We broke up."
"Oh. How many days will this breakup last?"
"..."
"Sleep then. Breakfast is on the table."
"I'm off to work."
"I have a date tonight, so don't cook for me..."
"Actually, you'll probably leave soon anyway."
"Remember to close the balcony window."
Sophia woke up from hunger.
Eating the sandwich her best friend made, watching the brilliant sunshine outside the window, she couldn't remember the last time she'd slept in naturally.
She finished the breakfast-turned-lunch, changed clothes, and headed straight for the bank.
First, to cash the check for 7.2 million USD.
She'd feel secure only once the money was in her account.
Then she went to the bank next door.
"I need to speak with your private banker. I want to deposit one million."
The branch manager personally attended to her.
He offered a decent interest rate.
Sophia requested an additional two percentage points.
They finally reached an agreement.
She repeated the process at two other banks, depositing one million at each.
The interest rates got better each time.
Stepping out of the last bank, Sophia was now a woman of considerable means.
She held Black Cards from three banks.
She had three million in various deposits.
And two million in liquid cash.
"This breakup was worth it."
It was like striking it rich overnight.
Passing a bustling hair salon, Sophia pushed the door open.
She immediately signed up for a two-thousand-dollar membership, securing priority service.
Sitting before the mirror, looking at her head of brown curls, she found them irritating for the first time.
"Miss, your hair texture is wonderful, just like a doll's..."
She had kept it curly because Ethan liked long hair.
After every intimate moment, his hand would always weave through her curls.
But beautiful curls meant spending huge amounts of time on upkeep.
Sophia smiled slightly.
"Cut it short. Straighten it. Dye it black."
No matter how beautiful a doll was, it was still just a toy.
Let someone else play that role. She was done.
Leaving the salon, Sophia felt light and free.
A nearby Uniqlo was having a sale.
She went in, bought a white T-shirt and jeans, and changed into them on the spot.
They went perfectly with her sneakers today.
Walking aimlessly, she found herself outside the gates of MIT.
Watching students cycling in and out under the setting sun, Sophia was lost in thought.
"Senior Henry! Over here—"
A young man brushed past Sophia.
"Why is everyone here?"
"We all wanted to visit Professor Watson, so..."
Henry Lorenz said, "The hospital won't allow this many people in."
"Let two representatives from the bioinformatics program come with me."
Bioinformatics... Professor Watson...
Sophia's eyes sharpened.
She quickened her pace and stepped forward.
"Who did you say is sick?"
Henry Lorenz stammered slightly at the clean, pretty girl before him.
"P-Professor Watson."
"Eleanor Watson?"
"Yes."
"Which hospital?"
"Massachusetts General."
"Thank you."
"Uh... which department are you from, junior?"
"Were you also Professor Watson's student?"
The boy's question was left behind as Sophia strode away.
Back at the apartment, Sophia's mood remained unsettled for a long time.
That feisty little old lady who would jump up and rap your knuckles when angry was sick?
How serious was it?
She opened her contacts, found the number labeled "Fang Yanqing," hesitated several times, but ultimately lacked the courage to dial.
Back then, to be with Ethan Roscente, for so-called love, she had given up her spot in the combined Master's and Ph.D. program without a second thought.
She hadn't worked a single day after graduating with her bachelor's, turning herself into a homemaker revolving around a man.
The old professor must have been utterly disappointed.
"Hey? You're still here, Sophia?" Olivia Lopez said, surprised, while changing her shoes.
Sophia's mouth twitched.
"What? Trying to kick me out?"
"Tsk tsk, truly rare. You're holding out longer this time."
"I remember last time you broke up with Ethan Roscente, it wasn't even half an hour before he called, and you obediently went back."
"There's porridge in the pot. Serve yourself."
Olivia's eyes lit up.
She immediately ran to the kitchen and served a bowl.
As she drank, she sighed.
"That dog, Ethan Roscente, was so lucky, getting to drink this every day..."
Sophia said, "Remember to wash the bowl and the pot after you finish. Clean up properly. I'm going to sleep first."
"Hey, you're really not going back?"
The response was the sound of the bedroom door closing.
Olivia clicked her tongue lightly.
"Making progress this time..."
Under the same night sky, at the Beverly Hills mansion.
"Mr. Roscente, the bank confirmed it."
"Miss Sullivan personally cashed the check for 7.2 million USD."
"The time was 12:05 PM today..."
Ethan Roscente hung up the phone, coldly gazing at the night view outside the window.
"Sophia Sullivan, what game are you playing now?"
If she thought using this method could win him back, she was sorely mistaken.
Once he decided something, there was no room for discussion.
"Charlie, want to grab a drink?"
Half an hour later, Ethan pushed open the private room door.
Charlie Lowell was the first to greet him with a smile.
"Ethan, everyone's here, just waiting for you."
"What are we drinking tonight?"
Ethan walked inside.
Charlie didn't move, looking behind him.
"What are you standing there for?"
"Where's Sophia? Parking the car?"
Ethan's face darkened.