CHAPTER EIGHT

Will Smith eyed Raymond's sharp attire, suited for their upcoming project at Canary Wharf. With a firm nod, he detailed the next steps.

"Our property is in good shape, but there's still work to be done. First, you need to visit Tower Hamlets Council to secure planning permissions and handle the business rates. Mark will schedule a health and safety inspection—likely tomorrow or the next day—to ensure compliance. Ryan will take care of the Financial Conduct Authority matters. I trust him to handle the fintech regulations."

Will leaned back slightly, his gaze thoughtful. "I'll personally contact Canary Wharf Group and network with local businesses. Keep me updated. I deliberately left this out of the family board meeting to prevent leaks."

He hesitated, then added, "Sophia will accompany Ryan and Mark for their tasks while you and I focus on the Manchester project."

Raymond gave a slow nod, jotting down key points.

"Where is Sophia?"

"Waiting for me by the car," Raymond assured him.

Will walked over and adjusted Raymond's collar, his voice unusually soft. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. You need to be careful."

Raymond's throat tightened briefly before he responded. "I will, Father."

Will nodded in approval, then sighed. "Your fiancée has postponed her arrival. Again. I hope she doesn't delay much longer—we're all eager to welcome her."

Raymond merely inclined his head.

***

In the corridor, Catarina narrowed her eyes at a young maid lingering outside Will's study.

"What are you doing here?"

The maid, Isla, jumped slightly, gripping her cleaning cloth. "I—I was about to clean, but it seems they're having a conversation."

Catarina smirked, her gaze flickering over the girl. "And why are you here? No new maids are allowed upstairs. Your duties are strictly downstairs."

"I'm sorry," Isla stammered before scurrying down the stairs.

Catarina watched her go, suspicion curling in her gut. Why was she listening in on that conversation?

***

Sophia cleared her throat as Raymond slid into the passenger seat.

"What music would you like to calm your nerves?"

He scoffed. "I'm Catholic. Play 'Ave Maria'."

Sophia blinked, then shrugged, selecting the piece and starting the car. She glanced at him.

Who listens to Ave Maria on a bright morning?

He caught her stare. "Why are you looking at me like I'm a clown?"

Sophia grinned. "Oh, nothing. Just admiring your looks—handsome, like your brothers. The Smiths are a home of outstanding beauty, after all."

He rolled his eyes. "You do realise that people who talk too much often lack focus?"

"Not at all, boss." She smirked. "Think of me as an AI—talkative yet hyper-aware. I entertain, educate, and inform."

The car lurched as she nearly hit a cyclist.

Raymond shouted. "Watch the road!"

Sophia gasped, steadying the wheel. "That was close! I swear, I'm usually a great driver. You just distracted me and—"

"Shut up and drive." His voice was clipped.

Sophia sighed but obeyed, guiding the car toward Tower Hamlets Council.

***

After completing the business at the council, Sophia stretched her arms. "Let's grab food. Café East does amazing Cao Lầu."

Raymond grumbled but followed her. The Vietnamese cuisine was decent, but Sophia's enthusiasm was the real spectacle.

As they left, her steps slowed. Across the road, a woman cradling a baby stood outside a tiny shop, weeping as she clutched her coat tighter against the morning chill.

A tall, stern man addressed her in a measured but firm tone. "Sarah, we can't delay any longer. The arrears are too high. You have until the end of today to vacate."

Sarah's face crumpled. Around her, the vibrant colours of her shop—once a symbol of her dreams—now felt like a cruel taunt. Loyal customers watched helplessly.

As the man walked away, Sarah sank onto the pavement, her hands trembling.

Sophia inhaled sharply. Without hesitation, she walked over and handed Sarah an envelope.

Sarah's eyes widened as she peeked inside—£5,000.

"You—you can't be serious."

Sophia met her gaze. "Do you want to save your shop?"

Sarah clutched the money, disbelief flickering across her features. "But why? You don't even know me."

Sophia helped her to her feet, smiling as she cradled the baby in her arms. "Don't worry. It's my pleasure."

When she turned back to Raymond—he was gone.

Panic surged through her. She scanned the area, finally spotting his car parked across the road.

Inside, Raymond sat motionless, watching her. His expression was unreadable.

She hurried over, sliding into the driver's seat. "Why did you disappear like that?"

Her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen. £10,000 transferred from Raymond Smith.

Her breath hitched. She turned to him. "You…"

He exhaled, rubbing his temple. "I didn't know you had such a compassionate side."

Her throat tightened. "Thank you, sir. You're kinder than I expected."

He studied her, his gaze lingering. "Why did you give her all that money when you barely had anything left?"

Sophia sighed, her voice softer. "Because I know what hopelessness feels like. And that baby… how would the mother feed her with nothing?"

Something in his expression shifted—almost imperceptibly.

"Let's go home."

***

Sophia guided the black SUV down Hessel Street, the dim glow of streetlights barely illuminating the narrow road.

Her instincts prickled. Something was off.

Then—she saw them.

Five men, masked and dressed in black, emerged from the shadows.

Her grip tightened on the wheel. Threat detected.

Without hesitation, she locked the doors, ensuring Raymond was secured inside.

The men advanced.

Sophia's heart pounded, but she remained calm. She had trained for moments like this.

If they thought she was just a driver—they were about to be very surprised.