Oops! My Whirlwind Tycoon Husband Is the Guy from That Night? novel Chapter 2

The elevator doors slid shut, cutting off Zoe's malicious laughter.

When Sonia was a child, she had been a perfectly normal weight, slender and lithe.

But ever since Laura Reed and Zoe waltzed into the Ashford family, she had started ballooning uncontrollably.

Now, she finally knew why.

Everyone loved an easy target, but no one dared mess with a cactus.

They only had one life to live; why should she suffer just to make them happy?

If a rabid dog bit her, she wasn't just going to bite back, she was going to tear it to shreds.

Upon returning to her apartment, Sonia hurled the fake vitamin bottle straight into the trash.

She was going to lose weight.

She was going to get fit.

She was going to be stunning.

And she was going to make that mother-daughter duo pay back every ounce of torment they had inflicted on her, tenfold.

There were no shortcuts to fitness: clean up the diet, and hit the gym.

Everyone knew the drill, but very few could actually commit to it.

But Sonia did.

As someone who practically lived for fried chicken, barbecue, and junk food, she went an entire year, three hundred and sixty-five days, without touching a single cheat meal.

Whenever she was hungry, she chugged water. If she craved junk, she snapped a rubber band against her wrist to kill the urge.

She was constantly hungry, relentlessly starving, day in and day out.

There were nights she woke up with her stomach growling so violently she cried into her pillows, but she never caved.

On top of that, she endured brutal daily cardio, weightlifting, and body-sculpting routines.

Morning jogs, fasted incline walks, swimming, cycling, squats, rowing, push-ups, planks, and intense Pilates extensions became her life.

A month later, she stepped on the scale: 200 pounds.

Two months later, she stepped on the scale: 188 pounds.

Three months later, 175 pounds.

Four months later, 165 pounds.

The closer she got to her goal, the harder the weight clung to her.

It didn't matter. She kept pushing forward.

She was going to use sheer, absolute discipline to achieve an overwhelming victory.

She was going to ensure that every gaze of envy and every word of praise belonged to her.

She was going to prove to the entire world that she could win.

Six months later, she stepped on the scale and gasped — the number kept dropping.

Nine months later, she was so close she could almost feel it.

Twelve months later, she stepped on the scale one last time. The number blinked. She froze. Then she screamed.

She'd done it!

It was often said that under every heavy exterior lay hidden potential.

For Sonia, that statement couldn't have been more accurate.

After shedding the weight, her eyes appeared larger and more striking, her nose more defined. Her double chin vanished, leaving a razor-sharp jawline. She moved with effortless grace and could finally wear whatever she wanted.

Her transformation was better than any plastic surgery.

Sonia had always been obsessed with the color red.

Red symbolized passion, radiance, and unapologetic boldness.

In the past, she would never have dared to wear a red dress in public, terrified of the mocking stares and the whispered insults about her trying too hard.

Quentin was incredibly conservative when it came to intimacy. If he slept with a woman, he fully intended to take responsibility for her.

That night, no matter what he demanded, she had eagerly surrendered to it.

They had tangled together until dawn, the physical chemistry between them bordering on madness.

He had planned to sit down with her the next morning to discuss marriage, only to wake up and find her gone.

On the mahogany desk, he had found a single, solitary coin.

A coin?

A coin!

Was she mocking his stamina?

For a man of his pride, it was a blatant insult.

Was he the only one who felt that earth-shattering connection?

He wanted to track her down and demand an answer.

Unfortunately, he had come up empty.

Because the hotel's security footage from that night had been conveniently destroyed by Laura and Zoe.

Quentin had searched for that mystery woman for an entire year without a single lead.

A soft sigh escaped his lips. His long, straight lashes fluttered, casting a sharp shadow over his eyes as they slowly opened.

Reading the room, his assistant quickly stepped out, rounded the vehicle, and opened the rear door, hovering a hand over the roofline as Quentin stepped onto the pavement.

He was at the Lavender Isle Café today for a blind date.

Shortly after Quentin disappeared inside, a stunning woman in red strutted past the nose of his parked Rolls-Royce.

Her dress was the color of fire, contrasting perfectly with her luminous skin. Thick, cascading waves of dark hair framed a face so breathtakingly gorgeous it commanded the street with effortless dominance.

Sonia pushed open the doors to the café, ready for her date.