Rebirth: Love me Again - Chapter 219

Chapter 219: The Amber Letter
Sophie could barely contain herself. Her mind was already painting a picture of Cole noticing her, taking her hand as they shared a private moment. Everything was finally falling into place.

But just as the euphoria reached its peak, the butler returned—this time more hesitant, his face pale.

“What now?” Sullivan snapped, irritated by the interruption.

The butler held out another envelope, its stark amber lettering standing in contrast to the gold seal of the last one. “This . . . was also delivered, sir. It bears the insignia of Blackthorn & Kingsley International.”

The entire room froze.

Sophia’s brow furrowed. “Blackthorn & Kingsley? Aren’t they—”

“The most prestigious law firm in the world,” Sullivan finished in a tight voice, his face suddenly pale. His hands trembled slightly as he took the envelope, tearing it open with uncharacteristic clumsiness.

The name alone carried weight—Blackthorn & Kingsley International. The untouchable firm that represented kings, global conglomerates, and political titans. Their reputation was unblemished and unreachable, a fortress of power and legal precision that no amount of money alone could buy. Only the elite, the powerful, or the desperate with ironclad evidence could access their services.

Sullivan scanned the letter, his face draining of all color. The paper seemed to tremble in his hands as he read aloud:

“To Mr. Sullivan Rosette, Mrs. Sophia Rosette, and Miss Sophie Rosette,

You are hereby notified of formal legal action initiated on behalf of our client, Ms. Eve Rosette, regarding the matters of defamation and assault.”

The room fell into an uneasy silence. Sophie’s glee evaporated instantly.

“What?” Sophie stammered. “Defamation? Assault? What is this?”

Sullivan didn’t answer her. He dropped the letter onto the table, his face ashen, his breathing shallow. “They . . . they’re suing us.”

“For what?” Sophia demanded, her voice sharp as panic began to set in.

“Defamation and assault,” Sullivan repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “They’re taking us to court. And with Blackthorn & Kingsley representing her . . .”

He trailed off, but the implication was clear. There was no escaping this. Blackthorn & Kingsley didn’t lose. If they had taken Eve’s case, it meant the evidence was damning—airtight, indisputable.

Sophie’s face crumpled. “But . . . but this can’t be happening! That’s impossible!”

Sullivan slammed his fist against the table, his fury erupting at last. “Damn that girl! How did she—how could she hire them? Where on earth did she got the money and connections?!”

They couldn’t even hire that law firm to represent them even if they wanted to.

“And what’s this about assault?” Sullivan hissed, his voice low and dangerous.

Sophia and Sophie froze. Their gazes flickered toward each other, a silent exchange of panic, before both women dropped their eyes to the polished dining table. Who would have thought that Eve would go this far? To actually sue them? Where did she got the guts to do it?

Sullivan’s jaw tightened, the veins in his temple visibly pulsing. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the edge of his chair. “What have you done?”

Sophia drew in a shaky breath, her composure crumbling under the weight of her husband’s glare. “It wasn’t my fault,” she began defensively, her voice trembling. “That girl—Eve—stormed into our house unannounced. She threatened our daughter! What was I supposed to do? Stand there and let her attack us?”

“What did you do, Sophia?” Sullivan demanded, his voice sharp enough to cut through glass.

“I slapped her,” Sophia admitted through clenched teeth, her chin lifting defiantly. “She deserved it for barging in and spewing nonsense. I was only protecting Sophie.”

“You slapped her?!” Sullivan thundered, surging to his feet so violently that the chair scraped against the marble floor. “Are you out of your mind, Sophia? Do you know what you’ve done? That slap is all the evidence she needs to bury us! And now—now she has Blackthorn & Kingsley on her side!”

Sophia flinched, but her temper flared in return. “And what would you have had me do, Sullivan? Let her scream in my face? Let her threaten our daughter in our own home? Is that what you wanted?”

“No!” Sullivan roared. “But you could have just shout at her. Throw insults at her. Anything but physically hurt her! You should have just killed her and burry the evidence. Not slap her and let her walk out free and sue us in return. Do you have any idea what Blackthorn & Kingsley will do to us? They don’t lose. They don’t negotiate. Once they come after you, it’s already over!”

Sophie sank deeper into her chair, her face pale. “Father, I didn’t know . . . We didn’t think . . .”

Sullivan turned on her with a glare that could freeze a flame. “That’s precisely the problem! Neither of you think! You act on your petty emotions, and now we’re on this problem!”

He paused, taking a deep, shuddering breath in an attempt to rein in his fury. The air around him seemed to crackle with tension as he smoothed a hand over his hair and straightened his coat.

When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, colder—more dangerous than ever.

“Listen to me carefully. From this moment on, you will do nothing. No calls. No meetings. No confrontations. You will not so much as breathe in Eve’s direction.” His gaze bored into Sophia and Sophie, pinning them in place. “Do you understand me?”

Sophia swallowed hard, her bravado now gone. “Yes.”

Sophie only nodded, unable to meet her father’s eyes.

“I don’t know how Eve managed to get Blackthorn & Kingsley to represent her,” Sullivan muttered, more to himself now as he paced the room like a caged animal, “but I will find out. And when I do, I’ll put an end to this.”

He stopped abruptly, turning to face his family one last time, his expression grave. “Do not interfere. I’ll handle this.”

The room fell silent. The weight of Sullivan’s words pressed down on them like an invisible hand, choking out any lingering defiance. Sophia and Sophie remained seated, their earlier triumph now a distant memory, replaced by dread.

The grandeur of the dining room now seemed oppressive, suffocating. The golden light from the chandelier above cast harsh shadows across their faces, reflecting the cracks in their once-perfect plans.

Eve had struck back. And this time, she hadn’t just played their game—she’d shattered the board.