He Chose Her over My Dying Mother

My name is Sophia Roscente.

On screen, I am the untouchable A-list superstar in the eyes of my fans.

In private, I am the woman Liam Evans has cherished for a full five years.

Everyone in New York City knows Liam Evans, the heir to the Evans empire, holds half the city's resources in his hands.

When he pursued me, he did many sensational things.

He stood outside my apartment building until dawn during a rainstorm, just to deliver a bowl of sweet soup I had casually mentioned wanting.

When a deranged anti-fan attacked me on set, he threw himself in front of me without hesitation, taking the hit from a bottle of corrosive liquid, leaving a scar on his own arm.

The night I won the Academy Award for Best Actress, he watched me from the audience, his eyes red-rimmed, his hands trembling as he applauded.

Back then, I thought this was forever.

Until Olivia Lopez appeared.

That young painter, who was injured saving Liam from a car accident, quietly inserted herself between him and me.

He started canceling the candlelit dinners I carefully planned to accompany Olivia to art exhibitions.

The cashmere scarf I spent three sleepless nights knitting, he immediately wrapped around Olivia's neck when she complained about the cold.

When Olivia "accidentally" knocked over hot coffee, staining the haute couture gown I had borrowed, his first reaction was to steady the crying Olivia, not to check my scalded hand.

Every time I felt wronged, Liam would sigh.

"Olivia saved my life, Sophia. Be more understanding."

That phrase was like a curse, forcing me to swallow my grievances again and again.

Until today.

My phone exploded with notifications.

"Mystery painter Olivia Lopez's new work fetches astronomical price at auction! Nude portrait's subject疑似 A-list superstar Sophia Roscente!"

I clicked on the news photo. My fingertips turned icy cold.

The woman in the painting lay on her side on a velvet bed, her long hair obscuring her face.

But that body, the snow-white skin, the slender waist, and the unique birthmark on the shoulder and neck—

Every detail screamed to the world that it was me.

The only person who could have access to such private photos of me was Liam Evans.

Only him.

Twitter was trending.

The hashtag "Sophia Roscente nude portrait" was followed by a blazing red "BREAKING."

The comment section was a sewer of filth.

"Always acting so pure and aloof, turns out she's into this stuff in private?"

"Did her sugar daddy get tired of her and pass her to a painter as material? How creative."

"The figure is indeed good, no wonder the Evans heir kept her around for five years."

My whole body trembled. My stomach churned. I grabbed my car keys and rushed out.

I sped all the way to the top floor of Evans Corporation.

Pushing open the door to his office, I found Olivia sitting on the sofa, swinging her legs, her voice sickly sweet.

"Liam, look! My painting sold for ten million! Everyone is praising me!"

Liam stood beside her, gently ruffling her hair.

"It's because you painted it so well."

The affection in his tone felt like needles in my ears.

He saw me and frowned slightly.

"Why did you come out dressed so lightly? It's cold outside."

I stared at him, my voice hoarse and unfamiliar.

"Did you give her the photo for that painting?"

Liam paused, then walked over to take my hand.

I jerked my arm away.

His expression darkened, then softened again.

"Sophia, don't make a scene. Olivia has always wanted a solo exhibition, but her previous works didn't get attention. I was just helping her."

"Helping her?"

I laughed, but tears fell.

"By using my nude photo to help her? Liam Evans, I am your girlfriend, not a tool for you to curry favor with others!"

"Do you have to see it that way?"

His brow furrowed tightly, impatience flashing in his eyes.

"The face isn't shown in the painting. The hype will die down in a few days. Olivia stayed up several nights working on this piece. Can't you be more considerate?"

Considerate.

Considerate again.

For five years, he always asked me to be considerate of others.

I wiped my tears and looked up at him.

"Liam Evans, we're breaking up."

The air froze solid.

His eyes instantly turned stormy. He took a step forward and viciously grabbed my wrist.

The bones ached under his grip.

"Breaking up?"

He leaned in close, his breath cold against my face.

"Sophia Roscente, your mother is still lying in that private hospital I invested in. The best specialists, the most expensive equipment, all arranged by me. If you dare leave, do you believe I'll have her transferred to a general ward tomorrow?"

My pupils contracted. The blood in my veins ran cold.

My mother's heart condition was a sword hanging over my head.

All these years, her life depended entirely on Liam's resources.

I never imagined this dependence would become the hand choking my neck.

"You..."

"Be good."

He released my wrist, his thumb rubbing the reddened skin. His voice was soft, but each word pierced my heart.

"Don't force me to do things you won't like."

I stood frozen, as if all strength had been drained from me.

My phone began vibrating frantically.

It was the hospital.

"Miss Roscente! Your mother has suffered an acute heart attack! She's in emergency surgery! The situation is critical, please come quickly!"

My mind went blank with a roar. I grabbed my bag and rushed out.

Liam frowned and followed. Just as he was about to order the driver, Olivia on the sofa suddenly clutched her forehead and slumped weakly.