The Xiangran Villa, right at the center, was lavishly decorated. The fragrance of roses lingered in every corner, and everyone passing by was dressed in their finest attire.

A stunning woman in a red dress walked step by step toward the room at the end of the second floor. Before she even reached the door, the voices inside were already loud and clear.

“Ha, that woman? If it weren’t for her inheritance and shares from her grandfather, who would even like her? My favorite is, of course, you, Isabella~”

“Oh, stop it, you’re so annoying!”

Standing outside, Sophia Bennett clenched her fists tightly. Her lips curled into a cold smile as her high-heeled foot slammed the door open.

“Who’s there? Sophia! You—ah!”

The two inside, startled by the interruption, turned their heads angrily, ready to shout. But a blast of white spray hit them before they could speak.

“Perfect match: a b*tch and her dog! Disgusting trash!”

“Argh! Sophia, what are you doing?!”

The two, cowering under the sheets with no clothes on, shrieked, staring at her in panic as she stood there holding a fire extinguisher.

Once the bottle was empty, Sophia tossed it onto the bed with force, taking a deep breath. Then, with an air of calm, she stepped gracefully over to a chair and sat down, crossing her legs.

“What am I doing? Oh, you’ll find out soon enough.” Sophia pulled her phone out of her bag, opened the camera, focused, and snapped the photos, all in one fluid motion.

“What are you doing!”

Ethan panicked when he saw her take pictures. He jumped out of bed, abandoning any pretense of dignity, and grabbed her wrist, demanding an answer.

“Are you blind?”

Sophia shook off his hand with an expression of sheer disgust, grabbed some tissues from the nightstand, and wiped her arm furiously where he had touched her.

Gross.

“Delete those pictures, now!”

Ethan frowned at her motion, his tone slipping back into his usual commanding voice.

Sophia scoffed, like she’d just heard the most ridiculous thing ever. With a smirk, she held up her phone, showing the screen displaying the incriminating photos.

“Oh, you want me to delete them? Beg me for it.”

“You—”

“Please, Sophia, please! I was wrong! I didn’t mean it!”

From under the sheets, Isabella’s teary-eyed face emerged. She looked up at Sophia with trembling lips, her words spilling out between choked sobs. “I just love Ethan too much! I didn’t mean to fight you for him! If you want to hit me, yell at me, do whatever you want—just spare him. Please, I’m begging you.”

“You don’t need to beg her!” Ethan immediately stepped back to the bed. Wrapping his arms protectively around Isabella, he whispered softly, “You’ve done nothing wrong. You’re the only one I love.” "No, don't say that, Ethan, you're my sister's boyfriend."

"I'm not! I..."

*Clap! Clap! Clap!*

Sitting aside, Sophia couldn't help but applaud this ridiculous scene unfolding before her.

"What a performance! Too bad it's downright cringy. Your acting sucks—makes me sick."

She stood up slowly, glanced at them with disdain, and casually wrapped her hand with a tissue before picking up the clothes sprawled on the floor.

"Sophia, what are you doing?"

Ethan jumped to his feet, panic flashing in his eyes when he saw her holding the clothes. He practically bolted toward her, trying to snatch the clothes back.

But unfortunately for him, he was a step too late.

In a swift motion, Sophia flicked on a lighter. The fine fabric, naturally an excellent accelerant, caught fire almost instantly.

She tossed the burning clothes onto the floor, watching as the flames danced and the panicked pair scrambled desperately, completely disregarding their dignity. The sight filled her with a sharp sense of satisfaction. Without sparing them another glance, she turned and strode toward the door.

"Sophia! You just wait!"

Hearing the utterly predictable, cliché threat from behind her, Sophia smirked. Out of what could only be described as pure amusement, she turned back slightly, making sure to lock her gaze on Ethan's disheveled, pathetically exposed figure.

"Oh, one more thing," she said deliberately, her tone calm but cutting. After speaking, she swung the door open wide, deliberately leaving it ajar so the wind could fan the flames even more. The fire quickly grew fiercer.

Watching the two people frantically scrambling inside, Sophia Bennett stood at the doorway, cleared her throat, and shouted with exaggerated alarm, “Oh no! Fire! Fire! Someone help!”

“Fire? Where’s the fire? Go check it out!”

“Move, move, move!”

Today was a big day for the Bennett family. William Bennett, with his reputation to uphold, had arranged everything meticulously, ensuring not a single detail was overlooked.

Convenient for her, wasn’t it?

Hearing the rush of footsteps approaching from all around, Sophia smiled to herself in satisfaction before turning and walking away.

**In the restroom**

Standing before the large mirror, Sophia stared at her reflection and let out a bitter, mocking laugh. She wasn’t sure if she was laughing at herself or at them.

Her gaze fell on the pictures on her phone screen—the ones she’d just taken of Ethan Clarke and Isabella Bennett in their despicable act. Strangely, she felt a sense of relief wash over her.

All those promises, all those sweet words he once said to her—now they felt like a cruel joke, playing back in her mind to mock her.

If she’d clung to even the faintest thread of hope before, it was gone now. That dream? It was shattered, completely and utterly.

She forced herself to stand upright, turned on the faucet, and carefully washed away the smeared makeup on her face. Her hands moved slowly, deliberately, as if scrubbing away not just the remains of her makeup but the vestiges of her own naivety.

Finally, she glanced at the incriminating photos one last time before throwing the phone into the toilet. After watching it sink, she turned and left without looking back.

At the bar, she raised her hand. “Hi, another drink, please. Get me your strongest one.”Sophia Bennett's gaze was hazy as she watched the swaying figures on the stage. Holding a wine glass in her hand, she swayed slightly as she stood up, the pale blue liquid inside rippling lightly with her movements. Slowly, she walked forward.

"Hey there, gorgeous. Wanna have some fun with me?"

A man sitting not far away saw her get up and quickly followed, his hand boldly landing on her waist, kneading lightly.

Feeling the unfamiliar touch, Sophia paused. She glanced at him with a playful smile, her fingers delicately lifting his hand off her waist.

"So...you want me, huh?"

She leaned in ever so slightly, her warm breath brushing against the man’s face, carrying a faint hint of wine.

The intoxicating aroma lingered in the air...

*Gulp.*

The man stared at Sophia, mesmerized. He swallowed hard, his gaze locked on her alluring demeanor.

"Come on, answer me. Do you?"

When he didn’t respond, Sophia draped an arm over his shoulder, moving even closer, her tone dripping with mockery.

The man quickly nodded, his hands twitching as if itching to pull her into his arms.

"Good... I was just feeling a bit bored myself."

Sophia smirked, stopping him just as he tried to act, then grabbed his hand instead. Step by step, she led him toward a shadowy corner.

"Ahhh!"

A sharp scream pierced the air from the dark corner. Nearby patrons glanced over but could only make out two figures tangled together. Everyone instinctively exchanged knowing glances, then subtly stepped back a bit, giving them some space.

In the corner—

"Hey, big guy, what happened to you? Weren’t you full of confidence earlier, huh? And now? Can’t even get up, can you?"

Sophia Bennett squatted down slowly, her tone mocking as she watched the man clutching his lower half, writhing on the floor in pain.

"You... just wait!"

The man, still on his knees, glared viciously at Sophia through gritted teeth, his rage barely contained.

"Ugh, is that all you men can say?”

Sophia’s expression darkened as he spewed the same old, tired line. Without hesitation, she landed another sharp kick at him. Then, without another glance, she turned and walked off.

As soon as she stepped out, countless suggestive stares followed her.

She stopped, casually tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Didn’t expect him to be so useless."

Hearing that, the onlookers immediately caught on, throwing her a mix of amused and sympathetic looks.

Figures—just another one of those flashy-but-weak types.