Poof! Wife Status, ERASED

Chapter 17 Sophia Roberts Was Long Dead

Tears welled up in Sophia Holt's eyes in an instant.

This was Christopher Holt's charm—he always sensed the softness in one's heart first, and just when you convinced yourself to let go, he would demand justice for you.

The day he returned to the States, it was pouring rain. Sophia didn't accompany him to the airport.

But the two lingered at home for a long time before he reluctantly stepped out the door.

Oceanview City, however, was bathed in sunshine. Yet the moment Christopher landed, he was treated to quite a spectacle.

Ethan Vanderbilt, gaunt and hollow-eyed, was pinned roughly to the airport tiles by a group of bodyguards. He struggled desperately but was ultimately tied up.

"Let me go! I stole my passport—I'm going to America to find her!"

"I've already admitted my mistakes! Sophia will forgive me! She'll come back to me!"

But with Daniel Vanderbilt now in control of the Vanderbilt family, who would still listen to him?

The bodyguards only tightened their grip, making him howl in pain.

Not far away, a woman with a limp "ran" toward the scene as fast as she could.

Isabella Thompson had just finished breastfeeding her child. Clad in slippers and looking disheveled, she appeared before the crowd.

She hadn't left the Vanderbilt estate in ages. After Sophia's death, all her dirty secrets had been exposed, and the Vanderbilts had locked her away.

She had lost everything—even her freedom to go outside. Ethan ignored her completely, and even the maids treated her with contempt.

If not for the child she had borne, she wouldn't even have been allowed inside the Vanderbilt mansion.

Once, she had dreamed of replacing Sophia, stealing everything from her, and becoming the glamorous Mrs. Vanderbilt.

But now? She was nothing more than a breeding tool, denied even the right to care for her own child.

Several times, she had tried to snatch the baby from the nanny's arms, only to be threatened and warned—once even shoved down the stairs, breaking her leg.

Ethan wasn't faring any better. Ousted by his illegitimate half-brother, he had grown depressed and violent, eventually placed under surveillance.

After seeing that movie trailer, he had lost his mind, scheming to steal his passport, insisting Sophia wasn't dead and that he had to fly abroad to find her.

He had escaped by hiding in a car trunk. By the time the bodyguards caught up, it was too late. Embarrassed, the Vanderbilts sent Isabella to retrieve him.

They made it clear—if she failed to bring Ethan back, she would be of no further use.

Many passengers in the terminal had stopped to gawk at the scene.

Too humiliated to care, Isabella reached down to pull the man up from the floor.

"Ethan, stop this. Let's go home."

Home? With her gone, what home did he have left?

Ethan lashed out, kicking and punching her—even stomping hard on her already crippled leg.

"You bitch! It's all your fault Sophia left me! I'll kill you!"

Bystanders eagerly pulled out their phones to record as Isabella, unable to fight back, took the beating.

Why? She had already lost her freedom, her health, and become a despised outcast. Why did Ethan have to humiliate her like this?

"Ethan, have you lost your mind? Why didn't you kill me when you were sleeping with me? Sophia Roberts is already dead—and it's your fault!"

Enraged, Ethan wrapped his hands around her throat. The two tumbled to the ground in a violent scuffle.

Christopher smirked and walked away with his butler.

Once in the car, the butler handed him an invitation.

"Young Master, the Vanderbilts have changed leadership and wish to establish goodwill with us. This is an invitation to the first birthday celebration of their eldest grandson."

Christopher skimmed the card. Daniel Vanderbilt was certainly adaptable—knowing he couldn't afford to cross the Holt family, he was now groveling for favor.

Well, then. He might as well go and enjoy the show.

On the night of the celebration, the child was the center of attention—while Isabella, his birth mother, remained locked in a room.

Margaret Vanderbilt explained to the guests that Isabella was bedridden and unable to attend.

But everyone knew the truth: she was ashamed of her country bumpkin daughter-in-law.

Back when Sophia was around, even if she was pale with exhaustion, she would force herself to endure the entire banquet by Margaret's side.

Halfway through the party, the child's father still hadn't appeared.

Whispers spread among the guests until Margaret smoothed things over, claiming her son was also ill.

The reality? Ethan had never even seen the child. He didn't want him—and fearing he might harm the baby, Margaret hadn't even informed him of the celebration.

But Daniel, standing nearby, gave a sinister smile.

He strode onto the stage and snatched the microphone.

"Thank you all for coming. Though my brother is unwell, his love for his son runs deep. He specially recorded a video for my dear nephew."

Margaret paled. Before she could send someone to stop it, the screen lit up.

The first thing shown was a wall covered in photos of Sophia. Then came lifelike androids—even an inflatable doll, all meticulously crafted in Sophia's likeness.

Ethan, sick with obsession, clutched the doll's hand, kneeling and begging for forgiveness over and over.

"Sophia, you've finally forgiven me, haven't you? I knew you wouldn't abandon me. I love you—I love you!"

The footage grew too grotesque to watch. Margaret immediately ordered the power cut.

Christopher frowned, fists clenched.

This Daniel was no better than scum.

Suddenly, chaos erupted upstairs as two nannies were shoved down the staircase.

Ethan—having slipped in unnoticed—now held the child by the throat, squeezing mercilessly.

"Bastard! I'll strangle you!"