Sophia’s POV

He breaks our kiss, hands stilling on my thighs. 

I lock gaze with him, seeing how dark and dilated his pupils have turned. 

He’s panting just as I am. His face is frozen—an expression of shock I don’t miss.

My body trembles, but I shake my head weakly, letting him know I can’t. 

He withdraws his hands quickly.

But as my arms go around his neck, he grips my waist, lifting me suddenly.

“I don’t…”

His lips press against the soft swell of my chest. My heart kicks hard, my words melting into an inhale.

I coil in pleasure, releasing a deep breath as my head drops.

“You’re a fantastic kisser.” He murmurs, breathy, hands shaking on my waist.

The compliment sends a curl up my stomach. But it’s the kisses he keeps pressing that steal my brain cells. They’re soft, intentional—like he’s memorizing the shape of me.

“A-Alexander…” My voice is barely mine, thin and trembling.

His grip at my waist firms, his breathing settles, and he gently sits me back in his lap. 

“Let’s take our time getting used to each other,” he says as he pulls me close, voice deep and uneven.

My eyes stay closed, my chest pounds. Strength eludes me.

“You good?” He questions while stroking my back with gentleness. 

But my head is blank. I drag in his scent, letting it permeate my senses. 

Minutes pass.

And by the time my body calms, I’m still in Alexander Thorne’s arms, on his lap, in his penthouse.

The realization that I’ve just kissed the man who’s been passing through my mind from January up until last week starts to sink in. It’s heart fluttering.

I’ve never been kissed so recklessly. So beautifully.

He’s calm. Too calm, still stroking my back. His breath moves softly against my hair.

My mind drifts to my parents, and guilt settles in my chest, squeezing. If they were to find out what I’ve just done, my punishment would be worse than getting grounded for weeks.

But it’s been eight long months. 

Since I got back from London last month, I’ve been hoping to run into him at least once, been looking forward to next week when I will see him again, unfailingly. 

Shy, I fold my lips and shift in his embrace. 

And there it is again—sharp. Firm.

His chest jerks. A controlled, involuntary twitch.

I slowly peel myself off him.

“What is it?” He asks, calm as ever.

I just stare, unable to utter what I felt.

“Do you find them uncomfortable?”

Them?

I search his eyes. “W-what’s that?” 

“What’s what?” A teasing smirk curves on his lips, left brow lifted.

“On your…” 

The words die in my throat.

He raises his brow higher, waiting, knowing.

Then, “What do they feel like?” His hands slide to the small of my back in slow warmth.

My cheeks flame.

And he lets out a soft chuckle. “You know what they are, Soph. That’s why you’re turning all red.”

I drop my gaze because he’s staring too intensely. But then I see it—the faint raised outlines under his shirt. Impossible to unsee.

“They’re my nipple rings.”

My breath fractures. My eyes lock on his chest, refusing to move.

Silence. Thick and stuffy.

Suddenly, the bell chimes. 

But I’m paralyzed in place, glued to him, eyes fastened where metal should not be. Outlines I didn’t notice earlier. Outlines I couldn’t possibly have noticed, because he’s a man I’ve only ever seen in suits. 

“That must be Garvey with your clothes and dinner,” he murmurs.

His nipples are pierced?! Pierced!

And my boobs kept brushing against… them?!

My imagination goes feral immediately. My heart trembles.

“Your father is calling, Sophia.”

But all I hear is: Nipple rings. danger. And who the heck is this freak I’ve just let kiss me?!

“Sophia?” He calls.

I snap out of my daze. My eyes lift from his chest, away from those outlines. 

“Your father?”

“What?!” I jolt, already crawling off him. 

“Come here,” he drags me back fast. 

I lose half a second of air as I’m forced back in his lap.

“Don’t go until I say so.” He says, tone hoarse, eyes darkening. 

My body stills. I stare, swallowing hard without knowing why.

“It’s just you and me here…” He takes my chin, teasing a sinful smile as he leans in. “Where are you running off to?”

I shut my eyes, folding, only for him to kiss my nose. It tickles.

The bell rings again.

I open my eyes to see how calm he remains, holding his phone.

My father’s name floats on the screen. 

“Should I answer it? Your call.”

I stare at it until it stops ringing. Heat knots in my chest. The heat of guilt.

My eyes shift to his. They’re filled with delicious rebellion.

The bell rings longer this time. 

And in a few seconds, the door clicks open and slams shut.

“Alexander, I should get up,” I murmur, not liking the idea of being seen like this—in his lap, wearing his clothes, and probably looking disheveled. Even if it’s just his chauffeur, whom I don’t know.

He releases his grip on me.

“Alex?!” A voice suddenly echoes. A familiar voice.

I wheeze, locking my eyes back with Alexander’s.

“Dimitri.” He voices my thought, eyes rounding for a second.

Oh my god.

I fly off him in a flash, rolling onto the floor.

Why is Dimitri here?

“Alex?! Where are you, Man?” Dimitri yells, getting close.

I scramble to my feet, grabbing my slippers, trembling with fear.

“In there.” Alexander hisses, pointing to a dark space. 

I run on the tips of my toes.

“Hey,”

I look over my shoulder to see him throwing my purse.

I catch it surprisingly and keep running for my life and sanity.

My clothes! 

But it’s too late.

I catch a glimpse of Dimitri before I slip into the dark room.

My chest thuds rapidly as I lean against the wall. I press a hand over my mouth, stifling my quick breaths.

“I keep forgetting to change my passcode,” Alexander greets.

“Hey, Man! Why didn’t you come get the door?”

It grows silent for a moment, then Dimitri speaks:

“I’m interrupting something. Am I not?”

No response.

“I saw a pair of Manolo Blahnik heels at the door… are those her clothes?”

I palm my eyes, praying silently.

“You’re being nosy, Man,” Alexander responds dryly.

“Because you’ve never brought a woman into your penthouse.”

What?

“And it looks like you’ve been up to no good,” Dimitri adds.

“I’m always up to no good.”

I hear them slap their hands together.

“You didn’t inform me of your coming,”

“I did. You were probably busy getting all… Wow! Is she someone we know? I’m so curious—”

“Don’t you have a wedding to plan, Dimitri?”

“You invited her into your space? God, Alex… this is - this is new. Is she in here somewhere?”

The bell chimes.

“Is that her?” Dimitri is unrelenting.

My eyes roam in the dark, sweat prickling my skin. I listen to their slippers hitting the ground.

“That’s Garvey.”

“That means she’s here!”

“Why are you so nosy? You’re not drunk.” Alexander evades confirming anything.

“Being mysterious again, huh?” Dimitri murmurs. 

He says nothing.

I hear their retreating footsteps. Then Dimitri continues,

“I’m marrying Lena next week—”

“For the THIRD time. Don’t tell me you’re nervous?”

“You swore never to get married, so you’ll never know how it feels…”

I slowly slide down the wall to crouch, releasing my mouth and a long breath. Their voices get muffled and fade.

Alexander swore never to get married?

My heart races. My mind is processing a lot at the same time. A lot about Alexander and how pathetic I feel hiding in here. 

I recall the call I had with Dimitri in January, after he sent me a cropped photo of Alexander and me from the party on New Year’s Eve.

He’d asked if something was going on between us. I’d said no. Next, he asked if I liked Alexander. 

I’d barely answered when he said, “Alexander is not the type of man you’d want. Stay away, Sophia.” 

Alexander Thorne's POV

Phone in hand, I tap on the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the line-up of cars in my private garage. My mind is elsewhere.

Dimitri left thirty-five minutes ago. I sent Garvey home, too, but I've been seated inside this car, waiting.

Dinner for Sophia and her new dress sits on the passenger seat beside me.

My fist clenches tight around my phone. My patience is wearing thin, but I don't have a choice.

I unlock my phone and stare at the text I was forced to send because this inattentive Psycho wouldn't pick up my calls. I delete the text after some seconds.

My phone vibrates all of a sudden.

Caller ID: Psycho

I immediately pick up. "Why didn't you answer your phone? Is what I pay you not enough?"

"My apologies, Mr. Thorne. Was at a seminar. No phones were allowed."

Exhaling deeply, I put a hand on my head.

She's silent. It tells me she's read the text.

"Have you deleted it?"

"Of course."

I nod, dropping my eyes to the luxury shopping bag containing Sophia's clothes. I replay what happened between us on my sofa. I replay when I lost control. How I did, I'm not sure.

Keeping her close and occupied was the only way I could contain whatever happened to me.

"How did you stop?" Psycho asks.

"She stopped me," I answer, tasting the bitterness of a bruised ego on my tongue.

"Isn't that a good sign?"

"It's not."

"Do you wanna come in tomorrow? I can fix an appointment for eight."

"Make it one P.M.. I have somewhere to be in the morning..."

"All right. See you tomorrow, Mr. Thorne."

I hang up and take the things from the passenger's seat, then exit the car.

The penthouse is quiet when I get inside.

"Sophia?" I call.

There's no response.

Slowly, I drop the bags on the coffee table.

The plastic bag containing her dirty clothes is still on the floor, where she left it. It's giving me a headache.

I slip my phone inside my pocket, making my way to the dark room she ran into when Dimitri arrived.

"Soph?"

Still no answer.

I enter and stop, staring at her still, small silhouette, curled up on the floor.

Brave of her to fall asleep in a man's house.

I drop to my knees to wake her.

"Sophia-"

A phone buzzes. It's not mine.

A light appears, and I see her phone in her grip. Turned on. Not off like I told her to do earlier.

I take the phone out of her grip. She doesn't even budge. After all her adventures tonight, passing out must have been inevitable.

But I know her parents. Sophia is their world, and they'll stop at nothing to find their daughter, including tracking her down.

Quickly, I enter the passcode and unlock her phone. Overstepping? Yes. But I happen to know her passcode. And just as I guessed, her location is turned on. I turn it off.

There's a chat message from 'Layla's friend': {You can just pay me for gas. Don't bother about the full payment.}

A call comes in.

Caller ID: Love of my life.

Her boyfriend? I can't tell; there's no picture.

I let it ring. Just as I'm about to turn off her phone, it vibrates again. It's the same caller.

Exhaling in irritation, I answer it.

"Sophia?!" Mr. Rose's distressed voice scrapes my ear. "Where are you, my love? How are you?"

I take the phone away from my ear, staring at the screen.

Her father is the love of her life? Interesting.

"Is this Sophia's boyfriend?!" He barks suddenly, tone switching. "Did you run off with my daughter?"

Boyfriend?

"I'll find you, and when I-"

I hang up and turn her phone off, then return it to her purse that's spilling out dollar bills.

I take out my phone, opening the chatting app.

There's a message from Mr. Rose: {We caught someone who saw a man help Sophia get down from the wall. He said the man was her boyfriend. I'm really sorry for the trouble, Son. I'll teach her better.}

I type my reply: {It's not a problem, Father-in-law. We'll all have breakfast together tomorrow. I assure you, she'll be found soon.}

I return my phone to my pocket, take her purse, and scoop her into my arms.

Face plain and peaceful, she remains sleeping, unaware of all that's happening as I carry her to my bedroom.

******

- - - -

Sophia's POV

My body aches as if I've been climbed and hit. My injuries sting softly. I let out a breath, turning on the comfortable bed. Pillows so soft and clean. Fresh, amberwood, cocoa...

I blink my eyes open.

For a few seconds, I keep my gaze on the white ceiling, struggling to arrange my fuzzy thoughts and see clearly. Nothing registers yet. Until-

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,"

My whole body tightens with awareness. It's immediate.

I turn my head sharply. Dark eyes are already locked on me. My vision blurs, but I see. And everything comes rushing back-my failed escape, his penthouse, treating my wounds, our hot kiss, Dimitri.

Now, I'm waking up beside him?

What is going on?! Why are we in bed together? Under the same sheet.

The same sheet?!

An alarm goes off in my head.

I grab the sheet, about to lift it to see if I'm undressed. But he's faster. He grips it from underneath, stopping me.

My pulse stumbles into a fast rhythm.

"I'm naked." He utters.

What?!

"Oh my god!" I plaster my eyes with both hands, shrinking away from him in panic.

He moves toward me, and I feel the heat from his body.

Oh, God.

My eyes open to see him rising. The sheet falls.

I turn away quickly, eyes closed, squeezing the sheet. But without failing to glimpse black clothes.

He breaks into a short chortle. Nothing else. And slowly, I turn my head, opening my eyes halfway.

He's seated, looking over me.

I stare now, only to see he's fully clothed, not naked, not smiling either.

I should punch him in the face, but he looks sinfully gorgeous and dangerous; I might regret my action.

"Can't take a joke, hm... thought you were about to cry." He says softly, lifting his hand to my face. He brushes hair from it, and I shiver.

"Did the thought of being naked with me scare you?"

I swallow hard, heart racing, brain booting like Windows 7 on a bad day.

"You fell asleep in that room... so I brought you to my bedroom." He slowly leans toward me.

I blink, determined to keep my eyes open.

"You're the first woman." He whispers in my ear, then locks his gaze on mine. "I wouldn't have sex with you without your consent."

My stomach dips, heat spreading within me.

"And just so you know," he lifts himself above me, under the sheet, eyes not moving from mine. "No sex until we get married."

He doesn't drop his weight on me, but he plants his legs between mine, hovering above.

The heat slides up my neck now as I struggle to keep still.

"We're not kissing again, too." He announces, his small, pink lips forming a beautiful pout when he says 'too'. "But we'll do other things..."

He inches close, face above mine, body above mine. However, he keeps his weight suspended.

"Other things you're not ready to handle yet..." His voice is barely a whisper-sultry, low, dark.

I feel his knee brush my thigh, where he bandaged, and my eyes close finally with a sigh. I turn my head away, suddenly wanting to feel his weight on me as I'm hypnotized.

Soft lips press under my left eye, kissing my mole.

"You've got beautiful, hazel eyes... can I see them?"

I oblige him, slowly opening my eyes. His face blurs, but I know he's staring-into my soul, my mind-a mind I might be losing soon.

"Want a teaser?"

My pulse slams hard, aching with desires I didn't know I possessed.

He waits.

After a long pause, I give him a slow nod, because it seems like the only option. My fingers curl tight around the sheet.

He adjusts. Then I feel his hands gently part my legs, spreading.

I gasp, shutting my eyes.

"Open your eyes," he commands softly.

I open them, trembling, breath rapid in his face. My chest swells.

Then,

"That's all for today, Love." He slowly withdraws his hands. "We've got breakfast at your house."

"Breakfast?" I whisper, still swimming in what he's just made me feel.

He replies with a nod, then withdraws completely.

I watch him roll off the bed. He stands tall and huge, moving around freely like he owns the place. He does.

"Your phone was turned on." He mutters, calm and controlled, walking away. "The love of your life called. Thought it was your boyfriend. Was going to tell him you're engaged... turned out to be your father."

"What?"

"Your father believes you spent the night at your boyfriend's. That's the story we're going with."

"W-what? H-how?" I sit up in shock.

"We leave in thirty minutes. Your clothes are in the guest bedroom." He says and opens a door. He slips in.

As if on cue, his shirt falls off his back. And so does my mouth-to the ground.

Just before the door shuts, I glimpse a back so broad and toned. A masterpiece of ink and muscle.

'He's not the type of man you'd want...' Dimitri's words echo in this moment.

But why do I still want him... even after eight months of staying away?

Sophia’s POV

He’s got nipple piercings, a back half-full of tattoos, smokes cigars, swore never to get married, but says he’s marrying me in October.

I’m the first woman he’s invited into his penthouse and bedroom, he kisses like a sinner, and promises to show me things I can’t handle yet. He lies well, too.

Just the perfect red flag. 

From the corners of my eyes, I watch him type on his iPad.

All covered up in a navy blue suit. You can’t tell what’s underneath or in his head.

He’s returning me home. 

My dad went in search of me and found Layla’s friend still lurking around the street of our home. According to Layla’s friend, ‘my boyfriend’ helped me down the wall, and I ran off with him. 

I’m grateful he went with ‘boyfriend’ instead of describing Alexander.

I turned my phone on while waiting for him in that dark room.

Alexander said he informed my father this morning that he’d found me at some apartment. 

I don’t know if I’m dying today or if I’m lucky that my night with Alexander gets to remain a secret. And why do I prefer it that way?

My mom will pass out if she finds out I was in the arms and bed of a man throughout the night—the very man she’s giving me away to.

When my house is in sight, I clench my fists, silently hoping that things go well.

I stare at the high walls, replaying how I desperately climbed the tree and jumped off last night.

I must have lost my mind. I can’t believe I did that. I guess I really didn’t want to be tied down to a ‘heartless fool’ before I even get to live. 

But look who the heartless fool is! Not heartless, and definitely not a fool.

Alexander puts his device aside and meets my gaze.

My chest flutters with warmth. Everything that happened between us replays in my mind. 

My emotions keep colliding—fear, attraction, shame, longing. It overwhelms me.

Do I want to be sold off and tied down to this man? A man I barely know, yet I’m insanely attracted to? A man who screams danger, yet I wanna know how dangerous it can get? 

I really don’t know.

He slowly reaches for my left hand and pulls me close.

I stare as he laces our fingers. His hand swallows mine.

“Everything will be fine,” he mutters and kisses the back of my hand. “I’m going to tell Dimitri about us.”

About us?! 

I’ve not even agreed to anything, and there’s already an ‘us’?

But he keeps kissing my hand, and my mind naturally travels to how he kissed my boobs through that Polo shirt he gave me.

My insides tumble. He makes me feel too much. And deep down, I know what I’ve felt is nothing compared to all he can do to me.

The gates open, and Garvey drives in.

My stomach tightens. 

Alexander leans close and cups my face. “You won’t get even a scolding. I promise you.”

I nod, hopeful in whatever magic he plans on using.

“They don’t look so mad.”

I lift my eyes and slowly turn my head to see my parents. They’re waiting outside. Smiling.

Smiling?

My mom wastes no second in coming for me as soon as I’m out of the car.

“Mom?” I mutter when her arms wrap tight around me.

“Do you know how worried we were?” Her voice breaks. 

Tears sting my eyes. Every rage, betrayal, and determination I felt last night has drained out of me.

“I’m sorry,” I choke, putting my arm around her as I inhale her warm, sweet smell.

My eyes meet my dad’s. Only love fills his gaze. No anger. It’s comforting.

I watch Alexander go to stand with him, ever calm and in charge. I can’t help but wonder what else he must have told them.

“Let’s have breakfast first,” my mom says, brushing my hair. “Your fiancé has to be at his company soon.”

My fiancé… There it is again. I sigh and withdraw from her, masking how uncomfortable I feel with a tight smile.

The dining table is set with a feast. 

My dad takes his place at the head of the table. To his left is my mom. Alexander sits at his right, while my breakfast is served beside him. 

We eat in silence at first. No mention of my crazy stunt last night or the supposed boyfriend I have—the reason my parents believe I don’t want to get married.

“When would the wedding be announced publicly?” My father breaks the silence.

And Alexander answers in a breath, “After Dimitri’s wedding, next week.” 

Bacon hangs in my throat. I go still, cutlery in my fist.

“Ah, yes! Dimitri Belcroft. It’s been the talk of the town. I should visit his father soon.” 

“Since it’s an intimate wedding, we didn’t get an official invite.” My mom chirps. “But Sophia is going. You both can leave together.”

I stare at my food, unable to chew or swallow anymore. 

“Would you want that?”

I was looking forward to the wedding, hoping to see Alexander again. But now I just—

“Sophia?” My mom calls.

I look up to see my parents staring at me, then I turn to Alexander. He’s staring, too, waiting for an answer.

“Do you want to go to Dimitri’s wedding with me?”

“I can just go on my own,” I answer and look away. 

The table is quiet again. 

Strength seeps out of me.

That suffocating feeling creeps back in, stealing my breath—the feeling of zero control over my life, my choices, my happiness. Once again, I’m powerless. Nothing new.

My appetite evaporates quickly. 

I drop my fork and exhale. 

My hands tremble. I fight back tears with every fiber of my waning strength. I don’t want to embarrass myself beside Alexander. I don’t want to seem weak and stupid, even though that’s how I feel on most days.

“I’m going to my room,” I announce, rising without lifting my head.

“Sophia?” My mom hisses sternly.

My lips quiver, threatening to break my will. 

Apparently, my attraction to him is not even enough.

Turning, I push my chair back, ready to leave.

And my dad’s fork clatters on his plate.

“Sophia Rosetta.” He says with a firmness that sends a tremor to my bones. “Sit, and let’s have breakfast.”

The tears slip out now, dropping on the table. 

As sweet as my dad is, his wrath is something I avoid like the plague.

Ashamed, I slip back into my seat, eyes on my food.

From the corner of my eye, I see Alexander’s jaw clench—barely, but enough for me to notice.

I suddenly feel his hand on my left knee and draw in a breath, but he taps softly. As if reassuring me. It’s calming. I catch my tears and take my fork.

“The wedding isn’t until October. That’s enough time to get to know ourselves.” He says, still tapping my knee. 

My dad nods, glancing briefly at me.

Alexander soon announces that he has to leave. My father walks him out, taking their discussion about a merger and acquisition out of the house. And I’m left with my mom. 

I pick at my food to distract myself from her piercing gaze.

“End things with him.” She says suddenly.

I lift my eyes to her, confused for a second. Then it comes to me—the boyfriend I don’t have.

“I can’t believe you ran away with a good-for-nothing.” She lets out a long breath, distress and disappointment etched on her face. “We didn’t raise you that way.”

I remain quiet. 

“Do you know how embarrassing it was for your father to hear from him that you were at a guy’s apartment? Do you know how embarrassing it was to apologize on your behalf? Sophia, why would you do something so humiliating?!”

“Because my words mean nothing to you and Dad!” I reply as my chest pounds, “I said I didn’t want to get married, but you went ahead to set up a fifth one for me. Running away seemed like my only option since I couldn’t kill myself.”

“Kill yourself?!” She gasps, eyes widening in horror. “The pills in your closet…”

Her eyes spread even more, face paling. “Why would you—”

My dad returns.

I shift in my seat, but I’m not done yet. 

“For the last four years, all you’ve been doing is trying to marry me off! I’ll be twenty-four in October, but I’ve never made one decision myself. Do you hate my guts that much, or is having money more important than what your daughter wants?!”

My mom’s mouth falls open, her eyes growing misty.

“We let you go to London to study. That was your decision.” She says.

My nails dig into my palm. “The only reason you and Dad let me go is just so you could brag to everyone that your only daughter was awarded a prestigious scholarship! 

“That’s all that matters! Our reputation. Our status! My perfection! You cried so hard when I had to leave, making me feel so guilty. Yet you willingly want to give me away to–to—”

My voice cracks, tears causing my throat to tighten. 

“Is that why you jumped over the wall? Risked your life to prove a point?” My dad speaks finally.

I palm my face, sobbing in defeat.

“Ran off with a nobody… that could have–could have harmed you.” My mom murmurs.

A humorless chuckle slips out of me. I drag my fingers through my hair and look at her. “And you think Alexander is the safe choice?”