---- Chapter 8 Matthew asked, "How could you marry someone else so quickly, Sophie?" "Why not? You handed over our future apartment to another woman. You stood me up on the day we were supposed to get married. Why would I keep waiting for you after that?" I linked my arm tightly around David's. "My husband outshines you in every possible way. He's more successful, more attractive, and more refined. And most importantly-he's leagues ahead of you in bed." Matthew's expression darkened instantly. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could speak, Emma came running down the hallway, breathless. "Matthew! I called you like 20 times! Why didn't you answer? I was freaking out!" Matthew looked at her like she was a nuisance. The softness he used to have when speaking to her was gone. "Why the hell do you keep calling me nonstop? Is it actually an emergency, or are you just bored?" ---- Emma blinked, caught off guard by his sudden coldness. "I thought you said you liked hearing my voice..." "T said you could call me if something important came up, not dial my number every five minutes like some obsessed fangirl." He turned back to me. "Sophie, I swear, nothing ever happened between me and Emma." "What you two have going on isn't my concern anymore." I shrugged. "And by the way, I paid for the entire renovation of that apartment at Bellemont District. Now that we're officially over, I'll be sending a team tomorrow to strip it down to the bare walls. Naturally, I'll return it to its original, unfinished condition." Emma let out a smug little giggle. "So you're really cutting ties with Matthew? What about the baby?" Then she turned to David. "Mr. Rockefeller, are you aware Sophie's pregnant? You wouldn't want to end up raising someone else's kid, would you?" ---- David said coldly, "First of all, I'm fully informed. Second, she's not pregnant. And third, even if she were, I'd still choose her. Every time." Then he turned his icy gaze on Emma. "So, you're the so-called childhood sweetheart? You reek of desperation. Honestly, you look at least ten years older than you are. I thought you were Matthew's aunt." I couldn't hold back my laugh. "Emma, he's right. And please, I'm younger than you. Maybe tone down the cutesy act-it's not working." Emma's expression twisted in fury, but with David standing there, she didn't dare lash out. David motioned for his private team to start packing up my things. Matthew stood there with his jaw clenched and eyes red, watching them work. Raising an eyebrow, I asked, "You're still standing there? What, do you enjoy watching other people pack up and move on?" Matthew's voice cracked. "Sophie... Why are you Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!