Sophie blinked, then blinked again, then looked at the book still trapped between their hands, and finally processed what was happening. Yes, she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He just nodded, returning the book carefully, as if handing over something sacred. But that was before.
Before Sophie’s father passed away, before her stepmother, Elaine, turned every room into hostile territory. Because shouting, “you turned me into an unpaid maid,” wouldn’t change anything. It never did. She entered the competition not because she believed in herself, but because the chosen girl’s family would receive $5 million.
She didn’t know the two rivals were already inside, sharpening their claws, and she didn’t know her stepmother was celebrating on social media as if she’d already won the lottery. “Tell me, what brought you here? ” Blake asked at the first dinner. It was as if that moment on the beach had never happened.
“You two have met before? ” Vivienne raised an eyebrow. “No, we just bumped into each other briefly,” Sophie said quickly. “Not at all,” Vivienne raised her glass.
“Well, may the best woman win. ”
But something inside Sophie, maybe the memory of that kind man on the beach, still whispered that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance. Three pages of legal terms basically said, “You will be filmed. ” Sophie looked at the bowl of forks and whispered, “Which one do I use first?
I’ve never done this before. ” A waiter entered, setting the first course in front of each of them. Charlotte smiled, “I spelled cheese, mixed up forks, and basically admitted I have no idea what I’m doing here. ” “Exactly,” Blake said.
The two rivals walked out, leaving Sophie alone at the huge table with empty plates and a collection of forks she still didn’t fully understand. In the hallway, she overheard Charlotte whisper, “I still think I should have sent you,” and below it, a flood of comments. “Not exactly,” someone said. Blake walked into the room during the second challenge.
Sophie looked genuinely lost. “Some might be laughing at you, but most are laughing with you,” Blake said. “Maybe I should thank you,” Sophie said. “I don’t understand.
” He moved closer, not too close, but close enough for her to feel his presence. “Because you’re not trying to be someone else, and that’s rare. ” “I don’t have any strategy. ” “And apparently, that’s enough.
”
“No, he’s not,” Charlotte said afterward. “Exactly. ” Then Sophie added, “If you cause any more trouble, I’m never eating cheese again. ” Because Sophie had done something Charlotte and Vivienne, with all their preparation and strategy, could never do.
“I brought each of you here because I believed you had something unique to offer,” Blake said during the final challenge. “I understand. ” Only two remained, Sophie and Charlotte. Fifteen minutes each.
Charlotte presented a business plan for a charity foundation. Sophie held only her worn copy of *The Little Duck Who Couldn’t Fly* and a crumpled notebook full of messy notes. “It has three sentences and a doodle of a duck in the corner,” Sophie admitted. “But those books have stories, they were loved by someone before.
” Blake was moved, not in an obvious way. “May I see the book? ” He looked at both of them. “And apparently that’s enough.
”
“Harington, the online reactions to the presentations are explosive,” the producer said. Blake didn’t answer, but for the first time in a long while, a real smile crossed his face. The morning after the photo shoot, the media team released the official pictures. Charlotte arrived perfectly styled with a bouquet of white roses.
Sophie arrived with hair slightly messy, holding a simple bouquet with both hands as if it were a treasure. Charlotte smiled, “Harington, with all due respect, that’s not very professional. ”
Blake kept his gaze on Charlotte, expression unchanged. “You arrived 15 minutes early and asked to stay here alone to mentally prepare for the photos.
” “I’m not going to ask if you did it,” Blake said. Charlotte’s face went pale. Sophie looked confused. “I was standing still like a statue because I was afraid to ruin the photo, and the incident has been cleared up,” Charlotte protested.
“I’d like to better understand your background, your story, so I can make an informed decision,” Blake said to Sophie. She told him about her father, about the house full of books and laughter, and about wanting a place where she could be enough. Blake nodded. “You are enough,” he said.
“How is that enough? ” she asked. He smiled, an expression Blake Harrington had never shown on camera before. During the gala, Sophie wore heels for the first time.
“How do people walk in these? These shoes are medieval torture devices,” she whispered, and Blake laughed, a genuine laugh that surprised everyone. Charlotte moved away to greet other guests, perfectly aware the cameras were still following her. The final elimination came down to the two of them.
“5 million will pay all the debts, buy a new house, get you into that private college you wanted, everything,” Sophie reminded herself. She reached for her notes and found nothing. “I had some notes,” she admitted, checking her other pockets. She lost the notes.
The silence was absolute. Blake stood still for a long moment. Then he stepped closer, standing between the two. “Any man would be lucky to have you as a partner,” he said to Sophie.
“And that’s exactly why I chose you. You won not because you played better, but because you were never playing. ” And then, in front of the cameras, in front of millions, Sophie laughed, a real laugh that didn’t sound forced. Later, the producer handed Blake a document.
Sophie stared at the papers as if they were a court sentence. “I didn’t write that. She filled out the form,” Sophie said, her voice shaking. Blake asked, “The signature on the consent form, was it forged?
” Sophie nodded. “I should have checked, but I never thought I’d get this far. ”
Blake knelt down in front of her, meeting her eyes with a gentleness she had never seen before, especially when no cameras were rolling. “Not because a contract forced me, not because the cameras were on,” he said.
“But because you deserve to be happy. Use the money to find out who you are when no one’s telling you what to do. ” He let out a short, humorless laugh. “She’s not getting a single cent.
I’m not canceling anything because of her lies. ”
Sophie never called, never visited, never sent a scent. Months later, a small package arrived at her door: the worn copy of *The Little Duck Who Couldn’t Fly*, with a note inside. “When you bring it back, you can write a little note inside saying what you thought of it.
”
There were no decorated chairs, no fancy floral arches, no cameras at the wedding, just 20 people, close friends, a kind assistant, and a smiling justice of the peace. Two misfits who found each other on the beach.
