The next day at noon.
Only Susan and Sophia were having lunch in the dining room; everyone else was busy with their own affairs.
Rocky showed up just then. "Morning."
"It's not morning anymore—it's already noon," Susan remarked dismissively before taking a sip of juice.
Porte immediately instructed the kitchen to serve his lunch.
As Rocky began his first meal of the day, he felt two intense gazes fixed on him. He looked up and met the eyes of his dear sister-in-law, Susan.
Is she trying to give me indigestion? he wondered.
"Got anything planned this afternoon?" Susan asked with a smile that hinted at a well-laid plan.
"Uh, no, not really."
"Good. Sophia needs to go back to her place to pick up some things. You'll accompany her," she stated casually, watching him closely.
Sophia looked up, surprised by the suggestion. "There's no need for trouble. It's just a quick trip—I can go by myself."
"That's not safe at all," Susan firmly rejected. "What if those attackers show up again?"
She wanted Rocky to go with Sophia partly to give them more time alone together, but also genuinely out of concern for Sophia's safety.
"I'll take her after I finish eating," Rocky replied with unexpected calm, as if he'd already accepted his fate.
Once the meal was over, Rocky kept his word and accompanied Sophia to her apartment to gather essentials.
From the moment they left the Smith residence, a dark blue car trailed them at a distance, following all the way to their destination before disappearing.
Rocky's thoughtful gaze lingered on Sophia as he absentmindedly followed her upstairs.
According to the investigation report, her life and social circles were straightforward, even simple. So why would anyone want her dead?
What kind of trouble could she possibly be involved in?
When Sophia opened the door, she froze completely.
Rocky stepped closer and peered inside—what he saw shocked him.
The interior was utterly ravaged, as if a storm had torn through every corner. The chaos was comparable to the aftermath of a war; hardly anything remained intact.
They really did a thorough job, Rocky mused, his sharp eyes scanning the room.
This was no ordinary burglary. What were these people searching for?
Heartbroken, Sophia stepped inside, each crunch of debris beneath her feet feeling like a stab to her heart. The pain spread deeply as she bent down to pick up a shattered photo frame—a family portrait, the last one taken with her parents. Tears began to stream down her face uncontrollably.
Every inch of this home had been filled with sweet memories, a treasured sanctuary. Now, it was all destroyed, and her heart felt brutally crushed along with it.
Why… why is this happening? What did I do to deserve this? she wondered. Now I have nothing left…
She cried silently, her slender shoulders trembling with grief. Rocky, strangely affected by her sorrow, felt an unexpected heaviness in his own chest.
After a long moment, he strode over and pulled her roughly into his arms. "Let it out," he said gruffly.
Clutching the broken frame, she looked around at the ruins of her home through tear-blurred eyes, sobbing. "Everything… gone. Nothing… left."
Holding her somewhat stiffly, Rocky felt the depth of her loss reflected in his increasingly somber green eyes.
Pressed against his warm chest, Sophia's composure broke completely, and she wept openly—the sound of a heart breaking.
Her hot tears seeped through his thin shirt, leaving a burning imprint on his skin.
A long time passed before her cries gradually subsided.
"Feeling better?" he asked gently, patting her shoulder. He understood her pain and helplessness.
She pulled back, her eyes red and swollen. "Thank you…"
Noticing tears welling up in her eyes again, Rocky wordlessly took her hand and led her away, not wanting her to be overwhelmed by the scene again.
The cool breeze from the car window slowly soothed her emotions, and fragments of memory returned to her—she had cried her heart out on his chest!
She glanced at him discreetly, surprised by his tenderness.
Noticing her look, he said gently, "Even without those physical mementos, the joyful times you shared with your family will always live in your heart, won't they?"
Rocky had lost his own parents early but was fortunate to have loving relatives, so he never felt alone.
Deeply moved, Sophia nodded repeatedly.
"Besides," Rocky's green eyes darkened slightly, "now isn't the time for grief. You should think carefully—what could they be searching for with such desperation?"
The same blue car that had followed them earlier reappeared. They're being careless—using the same vehicle again. They're underestimating me.
After thinking hard, Sophia still couldn't come up with an answer. "I really don't know."
"Have you come into possession of anything valuable or unusual lately?" he pressed, being more specific. "Like diamonds, drugs, weapons… anything like that?"
"No," Sophia said with certainty.
He didn't push further; after all, the perpetrators would likely show themselves soon. "It's fine if you can't think of it. Don't worry too much."
But one doubt puzzled him: If the attackers wanted something from her, why had they tried to kill her outright instead of interrogating her first? Didn't they want to retrieve it? Or…
"I want to go back inside one more time," Sophia said suddenly.
Rocky paused. "You won't break down again, will you?"
Embarrassed, she blushed. "No, I won't."
Skillfully turning the steering wheel, Rocky drove back, his sharp eyes checking the rearview mirror for the blue car—had it followed them again?
The return trip felt quicker, and they were soon back at her apartment building.
"Looking for something specific?" he asked, following her inside.
She hurried toward the darkroom. Though it seemed unlikely, she clung to a sliver of hope that her photography work might have survived.
But pushing the door open, she was met with the same devastation. Fury ignited within her.
Picking up a torn photograph, she exclaimed, "Damn it! Who would do this? Why are they targeting me like this?"
She had done nothing wrong, never harbored unreasonable desires—she had always lived earnestly and worked hard. Was that a crime?
Who could tell her what was really going on?
"Don't worry. We'll get to the bottom of this soon—" Rocky's words cut off abruptly. "Someone's here."
A faint, intermittent green glow flickered beneath his long eyelash.
Sophia held her breath. Had those people come back?
A faint scent drifted through the air—a specific women's perfume.
"Do you have any friends who wear 'Poison'?" Rocky asked suddenly, looking at Sophia.
"'Poison'?" Could it be Zoey?
Zoey was the only one among her friends who used that perfume, but she hadn't noticed the scent earlier.
"Yes, but—" Before she could finish, a familiar voice called out.
"Sophia? Are you here?"
It was indeed Zoey.
Rushing out of the darkroom, Sophia asked urgently, "Zoey, are you okay?"
Zoey stood perfectly fine at the doorway, staring in shock at the apocalyptic scene inside.
"Sophia!" she exclaimed, relief and surprise in her voice. "Oh, thank goodness you're safe! What happened here? Did World War III break out?"
She fired off questions rapidly but paused when she noticed Rocky stepping out behind Sophia.
"It's a long story," Sophia began, explaining everything—the pursuit, the attack—but carefully omitting any mention of the Smith family being werewolves, as she'd promised Rocky.
"So until this is resolved, it's better if you keep your distance. I don't want you getting dragged into this."
"What nonsense! Don't worry about me—I'll be fine. But you're in real danger here! Someone's trying to kill you! Have you gone to the police? Asked for protection?"
"Why would this happen? What went wrong?" Sophia wondered inwardly.
"No need for the police," Sophia declined.
"Why not? You're not just going to wait for them to come after you, are you?" Zoey's voice rose in agitation.
"She's safe with me," Rocky stated calmly, answering for Sophia.
Since Susan was determined to see this through, he knew he couldn't stay out of it either.
"You?" Zoey sounded surprised.
"Since I've already saved her once, a few more times won't hurt," he said lightly.
Undeniably, Rocky's presence made her feel secure.
"Your friend should leave now," Rocky reminded softly. "Staying longer might put her in their sights too."
Hearing this, Sophia immediately guided Zoey toward the door. "You should go. I'll contact you later."
"Sophia, I—" Zoey hesitated, reluctant to leave.
"Just go! I'll call you. Be careful," Sophia urged, waving her off before closing the door.
Rocky felt it was unsafe to stay longer. "Alright, since we're done here, let's head back."
"Okay, let's go. And... thank you."