At the Hudson Group's thirtieth anniversary celebration, Jones scanned the crowd, his voice booming through the microphone across the hall. "Today, I officially announce—"

I sat below, my eyes lowered, my fingertips absently tracing the stem of my wine glass.

My father hadn't given me a clear answer, so everything had to proceed as planned. "The Hudson and Saunders families will soon be united in marriage!"

Applause erupted, but the banquet hall's doors were suddenly kicked open.

Over twenty thugs wielding steel pipes stormed in, led by a scar-faced man radiating menace. "Where's Roderick's fiancée? Get out here! Today, you'll taste humiliation!"

They rampaged through the hall, smashing everything in their path.

Erica screamed, hiding behind Roderick, her eyes glaring at me with blame. "This is all your fault. You've ruined the banquet."

I frowned, about to explain.

Erica rushed to Jones, tears in her eyes, and wailed. "Sophia's an underground fighter. She must have made enemies on the streets and brought these people here!"

Jones didn't buy her story, his brow only furrowing deeper.

Guests screamed and scattered as the thugs attacked. The venue's security rushed to intervene but were quickly beaten down.

I glanced at the arrogant thugs, pulled out my phone, and pressed a shortcut key.

Roderick sneered. "Stop pretending. These people are here for you. Cancel the engagement now and stop dragging us into this!"

Erica raised her chin smugly, as if she could already see me being driven out.

She opened her mouth to say more, but a chilling sound of footsteps echoed from the entrance.

The scar-faced leader's eyes lit up, thinking his backup had arrived.

Instead, a group of black-suited men armed with weapons marched in.

My assistant strode to my side and bowed respectfully. "Madam, we're sorry. We were late executing the mission."

The thug leader's grin froze. He tried to question his men but was pinned by two black-suited men, unable to move. "Who… who are you? My boss runs the West District. You dare touch me?"

My assistant gave him a cold glance, saying nothing.

Within minutes, every thug was subdued.

Over a hundred black-suited men bowed in unison, their voices resounding. "Hail the Queen!"

The banquet hall fell silent.

Some recognized the emblem on the men's collars and grew even more terrified.

Jones looked at me with shock and confusion.

Roderick and Erica's faces turned ashen. They never imagined that I, whom they'd belittled, commanded such power.

My gaze swept over them, a cold smirk curling my lips.

My assistant brought the thugs before me, and all eyes focused on me.

I rose slowly, grabbed the scar-faced leader's hair, and demanded icily.

"Who gave you the guts to crash my engagement banquet?"

The scar-faced man froze, his eyes darting to the large wedding photo in the center of the banquet hall.

My smile and Roderick's were stiffly pressed together in the image.

He slapped his forehead, regret flooding his mind. "We got it wrong! We didn't mean to ruin your engagement banquet!"

As he spoke, Erica, hiding behind Roderick, stiffened, instinctively clutching his sleeve.

The scar-faced man's gaze locked onto her, and he roared with fury. "She's the one we're after! She had her bodyguards rip my girlfriend's dress! We only came to get revenge on her!"

The truth came to light, and Erica panicked.

She grabbed Roderick's arm, her eyes red as she pleaded. " No, Roderick, she took it off herself. I didn't…"

"Shut up!" I cut her off coldly, turning to Jones, who stood nearby.

Jones understood instantly and signaled the security to guide the shaken guests out through a side door.

I tilted my chin toward the scar-faced man. "Since it's a misunderstanding, we still need to settle the score. Go tear her clothes, and we'll call it even."

The scar-faced man hesitated, then his eyes gleamed with malice.

The moment my men released him, he lunged forward and grabbed Erica's collar.

Erica screamed for Roderick's help, but my men had already pinned his arms, a knee pressed into his lower back, forcing him to the floor.

Roderick shouted in rage, powerless to change the situation.

Only when Erica's gown was torn to shreds did the scar-faced man step back, satisfied.

Erica, humiliated, yanked a tablecloth to cover herself, sobbing uncontrollably.

I approached the scar-faced man, my voice calm but carrying an undeniable weight. "The dress issue is settled, but you crashed my engagement banquet. How do we settle that?"

His face paled, and he began to beg for mercy.

I didn't respond, only taking a hammer from my assistant and weighing it in my hand, my gaze sweeping over the thugs. "Each of you, break three of your own fingers. If you refuse, I know some mercenary brokers. The fiercest battlefields always need bodies. You won't come back. But don't worry—if you die, your families might get a payout. At least you won't die for nothing."

I shrugged and tossed the hammer to the ground.

The thugs' faces turned ashen, despair settling in as they eyed the armed mafia soldiers surrounding them.

The scar-faced man gritted his teeth, veins bulging on his forehead, sweat dripping down his face. Finally, he bent down and picked up the hammer.

His trembling hand pressed against the marble floor, and with a closed-eyed swing, he smashed down.

A bloodcurdling scream echoed through the hall as blood seeped from his fingers.

The other thugs, seeing this, reluctantly grabbed hammers, their screams rising and falling, thickening the air with tension.

I signaled my men to release Roderick. He looked at the gruesome scene, but instead of rushing to Erica, he stumbled toward me, forcing a fawning smile. "Sophia, I was blind. I didn't see Erica's true colors. Don't worry, I'll cut ties with her. She won't bother you again."

I glanced at him, my disdain unhidden. "Roderick, you think groveling now makes a difference? You're as filthy as she is."

His smile froze, a flicker of embarrassment crossing his eyes.

Under my pressure, he clenched his fists, swallowing his emotions.

As expected, seeing my cold expression and no sign of rekindling old feelings, he turned and approached Erica, wrapping her in his suit jacket.

Erica trembled like a leaf, sobbing breathlessly.

As Roderick carefully led her away, her fear faded, replaced by the same venomous resentment as his.

The moment she stepped out of the banquet hall, she muttered to herself. "Sophia, you think this will make me submit? Just wait. I'll make you lose what you care about most!"

She slipped a hand into her pocket, her fingers swiftly typing a message labeled "KM."

After sending it, she nestled back into Roderick's arms, her sobs masking the scheming in her eyes.

I watched their retreating figures, my hand tapping lightly at my side. My assistant raised my phone, the screen displaying real-time monitoring of Erica's message.

Outside the banquet hall, at a street corner, a man in a van saw the message on his phone.

He smirked coldly, a cigarette dangling from his lips, and pressed the call button. "Get ready. It's our turn."

In the VIP lounge, I gazed at the city's vibrant nightscape, lost in thought. A tall figure stepped through the door.

Jones handed me a glass of red wine, his tone gentle. "You handled things brilliantly back there."

I took the glass, my fingertips brushing its cool surface, and met his deep gaze.

"Are you here to plead for Roderick?" My voice stayed even, testing his stance.

He chuckled lightly. "I'm not foolish enough to waste words on someone who keeps messing up. He and Erica nearly ruined both our families' reputations."

He glanced out the window, a chill flickering in his eyes. "I should thank you for keeping this engagement banquet from becoming a farce."

I didn't respond. My phone rang—it was my father.

I answered respectfully. "Dad, there was a small hiccup at the banquet, but I've handled it."

A pause came from the other end, then a weathered but firm voice spoke. "Roderick's father and I saved each other's lives on the battlefield. I hoped this marriage would help his child grow the family business. But Roderick has let me down. Sophia, as you suggested, let's pause the engagement."

It seemed my dad had learned of Roderick's recent foolishness. I nodded obediently, saying nothing more.

"What about the ongoing cooperation with the Hudson family?" Jones spoke up, his gaze settling on me.

"Leave the partnership to Sophia's discretion." M dad's voice carried unwavering trust. "She's mature enough to take my place and handle everything."

After hanging up, only the sound of our breathing filled the room.

Jones looked at me intensely, as if he'd made up his mind. "Follow your heart. Whatever you decide, I'll support you."

I met his gaze. This man, known for his stoic reserve, now had a warmth in his eyes that nearly overwhelmed me.

My grip tightened on the phone, my heart racing as a bold idea took shape.

I took a deep breath and pulled out the couple's ring meant for my finger, placing it gently before him.

"Jones," my voice trembled. Proposing to a man was a daring choice. "Will you marry me?"

Jones's pupils contracted, his hand holding the wine glass freezing midair.

He stared at the gleaming ring, then at my flushed ears, his throat bobbing unconsciously.

The usually composed man seemed flustered.

His voice was hoarse. "Do you know what you're saying?"

"I do." I held his gaze. "I'm done settling. You're the only one I want to choose."

Jones suddenly reached out, pulling me into his arms.

His broad, warm chest carried a faint cedar scent. "No regrets?"

He picked up the ring, gently taking my hand, a flicker of anticipation in his eyes.

His face drew closer, his masculine presence enveloping me, and I tilted my head, closing my eyes.

Just as our lips were about to meet, a shrill ringtone shattered the moment.

I glanced at the caller ID— it was Molly.

I answered, my tone laced with concern. "Molly, what's up?"

Instead of her familiar gentle voice, I heard Molly's sobbing scream. "Sophia! Don't come! It's dangerous!"

A muffled thud of a blow came through the receiver, followed by a man's rough threat. "One hour, westside abandoned warehouse, no weapons. Be late or try anything funny, and this old lady's done for."

My heart lurched, my hand trembling on the phone. "Who are you?"

"Don't ask who I am. Come alone, or you'll be collecting her body."

The call cut off abruptly, the dial tone coiling around my heart like a viper.

I grabbed my coat, ready to leave, but a warm hand gripped my wrist.

Jones's brows knitted, his eyes full of worry. "It's too dangerous. I can't let you go alone."

I took a deep breath, my gaze firm, and gently freed my wrist. "Don't worry. I'll be fine."

I turned and walked out.

As I passed my assistant waiting at the door, I lowered my voice and issued quick orders. "Follow the backup plan. Have the soldiers take positions around the warehouse, stay hidden, and wait for my signal."