Poof! Wife Status, ERASED

Chapter 21 Will You Marry Me?

"You claim to love her, yet you betray her behind her back and break her heart. Ethan Vanderbilt, do you really love her?"

"Are you truly in love with her, or are you just clinging to the devoted-husband image you've crafted for yourself?"

What right does a man like him—who used his wife's fame to expand his business and then wallowed in self-pity when his company faltered—have to stand beside Sophia?

The understated Bentley pulled out of the underground garage, and Ethan finally broke down, covering his face as he sobbed.

Meanwhile, Sophia was also wiping away tears—but not over a man. It was for her loyal fans.

Even after nearly two years, her fan club remained active. Every day, devoted followers left heartfelt messages and check-ins, as if she were still alive.

"If you can't bear to let go, leave it to me. I can help you reclaim your identity," Christopher Holt murmured, pulling her into his arms.

But she refused.

Her reasoning was simple: if her fans discovered she was alive, the narrative of the entire incident would shift. The Vanderbilts might even twist the story and exploit her supporters for profit again.

She couldn't bear that.

For days afterward, Sophia remained subdued.

She was a homebody, with only one indulgence—food. So Christopher did everything he could to lift her spirits through cooking.

Whether it was obscure street snacks from distant corners of the world or intricate dishes from the eight major culinary traditions, he replicated them flawlessly.

Though her initial impression of him as a wealthy playboy chasing Hollywood dreams had long faded, she still marveled at the spread before her—worthy of a five-star chef.

"Don't just stare. Try it," he urged.

By now, she was used to his attentiveness. Since they'd officially become a couple, serving her breakfast in bed wasn't new.

So she opened her mouth obediently, ready to sip the fish broth he offered.

But the moment the scent hit her, she gagged.

Nausea surged, and she barely made it to the bathroom before collapsing over the toilet. After emptying her stomach, she passed out.

Years of depression and emotional torment had left her frail, but fainting was a first.

When she came to, the sterile ceiling of a hospital greeted her. Christopher hovered nearby, meticulously reviewing the doctor's instructions.

The second her eyes fluttered open, he was at her side, cupping her face.

"How do you feel? Any discomfort?"

She shook her head, about to ask what happened—when she spotted a well-dressed woman lurking outside the door.

It wasn't fully closed. With a loud thud, the woman stumbled in, then immediately swung her purse at Christopher.

"You wretched boy! How dare you put a girl through this? I'll beat some sense into you!"

"You got her pregnant and still haven't proposed? You scoundrel!"

Sophia's hand flew to her stomach. Pregnant?

How was that possible?

After three years of marriage with no child, she'd assumed she was infertile. That was why she'd been so reckless with Christopher.

And yet… it had happened?

Once the older woman finished her tirade, she smoothed her clothes and took Sophia's hand.

"Sophia, darling, this is all my fault for raising him wrong. But I'll make sure he pays for it. From now on, this family will revolve around you. If he ever steps out of line, I'll skin him alive!"

Soon after, Christopher's father and grandmother arrived, bringing jewelry, asset transfer documents, and even a draft for company shares.

Sophia refused, urging the kneeling man to rise.

His grandmother smacked his head. "Empty gestures mean nothing. The only real security is holding power and wealth in your own hands."

Once the papers were signed, Christopher's mother removed her family heirloom necklace and fastened it around Sophia's neck. After more reassurances, she left to prepare for the engagement party.

Only then did Christopher stand.

His gaze was fixed on her, love overflowing.

"Sophia… will you marry me?"