The Indifferent Ex-Husband Heartstrings in the Mall of Fate (Brandon and Sophia) novel Chapter 682

"Alright," Grace quickly replied, wisely choosing not to pry into where Sophia and Brandon were headed. Seeing the growing warmth between them, she felt genuinely happy for them and for Theresa too.

"You focus on work. I'll take care of Theresa."

She couldn't help but add thoughtfully, "But don't work too late. Your health is important."

The happiness and the hint of mischief in Grace's eyes made Sophia feel slightly awkward, as if she were being misunderstood.

"Thanks, Grace," Sophia said, a bit embarrassed. She gestured vaguely towards the door. "I mainly have a design project to work on, and Mr. Crawley here is the client. I need his approval on the final draft."

Though she had no real idea where Brandon was taking her, his mention of her needing to work on the project led her to believe it was related to that.

The mention of "Mr. Crawley" made Grace's initial enthusiasm dip a little, evident in her eyes, though she still managed a smile for Sophia. "Work is important, but remember to take care of yourself too."

Sophia nodded gently, "Thank you, Grace."

Brandon noticed the change in Grace's expression but said nothing. Instead, he reassured her, "Grace, I'm counting on you to look after Theresa."

With that, he picked up the keys from the hall table and left with Sophia.

Sophia instinctively headed towards the elevator, only to feel a gentle tug on her arm from Brandon.

"This way," he said.

Puzzled, Sophia turned to look at him.

Without explaining, Brandon guided her to a door on the opposite side of the corridor, still holding her close.

They stopped at the doorway, and Sophia, full of questions, looked at Brandon, momentarily forgetting that he had his arm around her.

Brandon said nothing as he skillfully inserted the key into the lock, turned it gently to the right, and opened the door.

He flicked on the light.

"Come in."

He guided Sophia inside.

Sophia instinctively glanced around. The apartment was small but tidy, with minimal furniture—a couch and a large wooden desk that dominated the living room. The desk was cluttered with a computer, a printer, and various design tools and papers.

Her gaze settled on the desk, and she felt a strange sense of familiarity and warmth.

"0618," her fingers hesitated, then typed in the numbers. The locked screen vanished, revealing the desktop.

Sophia stared at the screen, motionless.

Brandon watched her, unmoving.

Sophia's mind was blank, yet the desktop before her felt strangely familiar and comforting.

Sophia lingered, lost in thought, without further action. She turned to Brandon, looking somewhat lost.

Brandon approached her.

"This used to be your studio," he said. "Everything here belongs to you."