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?”

Sophia’s POV

⁓August 25, 2025: Dimitri & Lena’s Wedding Day⁓

It’s exactly one week since my failed attempt at running away. One week since my second and best kiss ever. One week since I got reintroduced to Alexander Thorne as his fiancée. 

And one week of receiving large rose bouquets from him daily. It’s a garden in my bedroom.

I didn’t get scolded as he promised. 

I remained at home, mostly in my bedroom, being the good and praiseworthy daughter as usual, of course, after my mom confirmed my non-existent boyfriend didn’t take what I should be saving for my wedding night with Alexander.

My parents—my mom especially—believe he’s the best man any woman can ask for. She counts me the luckiest and herself the luckiest mother. He could do no wrong in their eyes.

In my eyes, I’m not sure yet.

Because he’s looking at me now from across the room, and the look in his eyes tells me he wants to do everything wrong to me. 

His gaze pins me, dark and unyielding, despite the happiness floating in the air at this wedding reception, despite his involvement in the couple’s activities since he’s one of Dimitri’s best men.

A wave of heat floods through me. And one-week-old memories begin bleeding into my mind: the feel of his lips on mine, the feel of his piercings against me, his hands on me, his scent, his dark, enticing gaze… The delicious taste of his mouth.

I still crave it in my sleep.

“Alex, focus!” Dimitri’s cheerful voice rings across the gorgeous hall.

I drop my gaze quickly and pick up my champagne glass, sipping. I’m the cause of his distraction. 

When I raise my head, his eyes are back on the golden rope they’re all pulling in a tug-of-war.

A precious smile is plastered on his face as he stands behind Dimitri. Dark hair falls over his eyes. He’s so beautifully made. His deep blue suit fits him majestically; he should be jailed for looking so good.

He mutters something to the person behind him, Lucio, the second best man, and they all laugh, pulling even harder.

Team Dimitri vs Team Lena. Five against Five.

Team Dimitri: Dimitri, Alexander, Lucio, and the rest of the men in their circle. One is absent.

Team Lena: Lena (the most beautiful woman and wife I’ve ever met), Emily (her best friend and maid of honor), Barbara, and the rest of the ladies in their circle.

Lucio and Emily actually got married yesterday, and along with Lena, they’re the only three outside the circle—all older, wealthier, and partly way out of my league socially. Thanks to Dimitri, I get to hang out with them.

The ladies pull harder, failing miserably yet still trying and laughing. Anybody can tell the guys are being easy on them.

The hall echoes with loud cheers, and I can’t help but join in. 

“Team Lena!” I cheer, clapping my hands in excitement.

The winning side gets a million dollars. If the ladies win, Dimitri pays. If the guys win, Alexander pays since the game was his idea.

“You fraudsters are way stronger!” Barbara yells, pulling the end of her side. “It’s unfair!”

“Get another lady,” Dimitri replies, staring at his woman like she’s a prized jewel. 

I read Lena’s lips in this moment, “Let us win,” she mouths to her husband, giggling.

“Saw that.” Alexander voices behind Dimitri.

“Sophia?!”

My ears tingle, and immediately, my eyes travel to Barbara.

“Sophia, join us!”

“M-me?” I stutter, pointing a finger at myself.

“YES!” The ladies chant desperately.

My cheeks burn, and naturally, my eyes meet Alexander’s gaze.

A perfect smirk forms on his lips before he throws the most heart-fluttering wink at me.

My heart skips a beat.

“SOPHIA?!” They plead again.

I drop my glass and purse on the cocktail table and hurry to join them. 

“Hello, Sophia,” Barbara greets, making room for me. “It’s been a minute.”

“Good evening, Barbara,” I smile at her.

“Your shoes…” she mutters, and we both stare at my René Caovilla Chandelier Sandals.

“Um…”

“As long as you don’t fall.” She says with urgency, turning serious. 

I grip the rope. Now five against six.

“Brace up, Sweetie,” Candace says in front of me. “That money is paying for my new Porsche.”

I give her a nod, feeling the thrill buzz through me.

And in 3, 2, 1, we begin pulling again.

I’m yanked forward so hard my breath escapes in a shocked gasp. 

My toes curl desperately inside my sandals as I pull, fighting not to end up face flat on the ground. 

Suddenly, the guys start coming toward us, tilting.

“Yes!” Candace hisses, pulling harder than anyone else.

“They’re letting us win,” Barbara admits.

“Who cares?” Candace replies. “Pull the fu—ing rope!”

I pull, marching backward with my heels. My arm and fist muscles clench.

Cheers echo. And in a minute, the guys slowly let go, making sure we don’t fall as we pull the rope to our side.

The room erupts in screams and claps.

My smile stretches wide as I’m dragged into a group hug. 

“We’re all giving Sophia fifteen grand each,” Barbara says, panting as she strokes my back. 

Warmth moves across my face when they all agree with excitement. I wasn’t expecting anything.

“Thank you,” I mutter, catching my breath.

Before we disperse, I say hearty congratulations to Lena. The last time I saw her, she was wreaking havoc. Ended up ruining New Year’s Eve for everyone. It’s good to see her happy again. 

She and Dimitri had the roughest year; we’re all just grateful they’re in a better place now. 

I take another drink from a waiter’s tray and return to my table.

The first thing I do is scan the room for Alexander. He vanished so suddenly. 

I keep scanning as Lena and Dimitri are invited to the dance floor, but he’s nowhere in sight.

Coos fly across the room. 

“Aw…” I murmur, staring as Dimitri wraps an arm around Lena’s waist. 

He pulls her close, and my eyes water because Lena starts crying.

They’ve been through so much.

I look around, and I’m not the only one fighting tears. The church wedding was even worse. A feast of water works; I was no exception. It was a lovely ceremony—the kind that makes you believe in love.

The lights in the room dim completely, and only a spotlight shines on the couple.

I take out my phone and start filming them, dabbing tears at the inner corners of my eyes. 

Love is something I’ve only dreamed about. It never came, so I poured my affection into something else—studying. And being so good at it that I could go far away from my parents’ ever-controlling presence.

The one guy I had a major crush on for years and believed was my love got engaged earlier this year. So, no luck in love.

Dimitri suddenly kisses Lena, and the roof is raised.

Squealing, heat spreads to my neck, and I stop filming. 

They don’t stop kissing; all tongues, no brakes.

The guests go crazy, feasting and cheering.

And suddenly,

“Hello, Beautiful,” 

My breath hitches.

Alexander moves close, exploiting the darkness of the room. 

I stay still, feeling the heat from his body caressing me from behind.

He brings his face close to my ear, lips hovering, warm breath brushing me.

I blink, curling my fingers nervously as I picture his perfect face.

“Good to see you,” he murmurs and kisses the skin behind my ear. “Received my roses?”

I give him a slow nod, noting the butterflies awakening in me. “Thank you. They were - they were pretty.”

“Anything for my wife-to-be…”

I drop my gaze, feeling warm inside instead of defensive like I was a week ago.

Since finding out he’s the one I’ve been set up with, the words ‘husband, marriage, couple, wedding, and fiancé’ don’t trigger me anymore. 

He grows quiet. Then slowly, he pulls me against him.

I drag in a shaky breath, heat blooming beneath my skin. 

Worry pounds in my head—worry that someone might see us despite the darkness. But he curves an arm around my stomach, ensuring there’s no space left between us.

My head swims. I shut my eyes and open them again. They stay on the couple, still kissing and slow-dancing in the middle of the room.

Watching them now, my body pressed against a warm brick wall who smells so delicious, I think of other things—the other things I’m not ready for yet.

“How much did you get from the tug of war?” He says against my right ear.

“Seventy-five.”

“You’ll get one-twenty-five tomorrow. I’ll send it as a gift.”

Words fail me.

He’s giving me money already? $125k?!

“Told your parents I’ll bring you home,” he continues softly, moving his other hand to wrap around me. 

A sigh escapes me as I close my eyes, feeling. Indulging. I’ve never felt anything like this before—never felt anyone take over my senses so effortlessly.

“I wanna spend some time with you, Sophia.” 

Unconsciously, I lean into him, head against his chest.

His chest rises against my back in a deep inhale, and in a second, he plants a kiss on my neck.

My head tilts against him.

“Let’s go to my penthouse… We’ll have that house tour… and do other things.”

Other things like what? But I keep my thoughts to myself.

“Meet me at the garage in five minutes.” He whispers, voice heavy with lure.

When he slips away, I start breathing again.

My chest pounds.

The lights come on, and he’s gone. Life keeps moving like I wasn’t just seduced in the dark.

I put a shaky palm over my forehead, glancing at Dimitri still dancing with his bride. 

There’s no time to think. I just really wanna find out what ‘other things’ mean.

I grab my purse and turn around, quietly finding the exit.

Sophia's POV

Alexander's calmness fills the elevator like gravity.

I stare at my reflection against the panel-blonde hair secured in a neat bun. Teal dress, perfect.

He slowly holds my hand and locks our fingers with gentle possessiveness. Then he meets my gaze in the panel, looking at me like I'm already his. It feels undebatable.

My breath flutters.

The first and last time I was here was by chance. This time, it's by choice.

Whatever happens to me is all on me.

Ding.

The 69th floor.

And the elevator doors open.

I clench my free fist as I follow beside him.

The drive here was quiet. Nothing surprising; his silence does all the speaking.

We're waiting until marriage. He told me that himself, yet it feels like I'm walking into dangerous storms I don't understand.

"Eleven, eleven, two..." he mutters as his fingerprint gets scanned.

I look at him.

"That's my passcode."

His passcode?

"It's the same for the private elevator."

I give him a nod, committing it to memory.

The door clicks open.

A quiet tremor rolls through my chest as we move inside.

I know to stop at the console table.

He drops his phone on it and crouches, taking out a small pair of pink fur slides. "These are yours."

"M-mine?" The word stutters out of me.

He holds my leg, and I almost choke.

"Your shoes,"

Slowly, I raise a leg, watching him unwrap the chandelier from my shin.

"Are you nervous?"

I press my lips together instead of answering.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna eat you... at least, not tonight."

My pulse slams hard, sending an ache through me.

I grip the console, releasing a deep breath. When he asks, I give him my other leg so he can unwrap my shoe.

Once my feet are inside the soft slides, he rises. They're my perfect size.

He holds my gaze now, stepping out of his dazzling black shoes into his slippers.

Just then, his phone buzzes.

My eyes flick to it on instinct.

Dimitri: {You left? Lucio said he saw you leaving with Sophia. Why?}

Alexander sighs softly, takes his phone, and types back without hesitation: {Relax. I'm just dropping her off at home. I'll see the guys later.}

Immediately, he pockets his phone and meets my eyes again, leading me inside as if the world outside this penthouse is irrelevant.

But I'm still processing what he said about 'eating'.

"Give me a minute, Soph. I'll be right back."

I respond with a nod.

He turns around, heading for his bedroom. I still remember because it's the only room on that wing.

My mind races as I watch him move with effortless elegance.

When he's out of sight, I consider taking my phone out, but the thought of seeing messages from my mom or even Dimitri worries me more than what might happen to me tonight.

I focus on my slippers instead, wishing I could take pictures of them. It's a first-time experience for me. A nice one.

And soon, he returns. Changed into a gray ribbed long-sleeve top that sticks to his entire body; two out of three buttons are undone.

He gets closer, and my mouth opens, my eyes fixed on his chest instantly-the piercings.

It's not a faint outline this time. The barbells are right there, with dangles-sharp. Obvious. I picture him without the shirt, and my breath stumbles, brain emptying. I shouldn't be staring... but I can't stop.

"Come. Let me show you around." He reaches for my hand and locks our fingers.

I follow his lead quietly, struggling to ignore all that I'm feeling and the image etched in my head at the moment.

"The living room," he says, gesturing. "You've seen most of it already."

We move into a sprawling kitchen, sleek and modern, but he doesn't linger.

"This hallway leads to the dining room, pantry, and the back entrance," he explains simply.

Then his fingers brush the small of my back to guide me forward. Heat sizzles through me.

"Let's go to the seventieth floor."

Upstairs, he pushes a door open.

"This is the library."

I stare at a vast space of books, awed into silence. Floor-to-ceiling shelves. Warm lighting. Beautiful.

"You love books," he says softly, staring at me like he knows me.

We continue.

"This is the media room. For movie nights... still setting it up, though. Maybe we can finish it together."

We?

Another door: "The gym."

We return downstairs.

"My home office is down that hallway. Just books and a desk." He says, seeming to wrap up the house tour.

Back in the living room, he pulls me a little closer.

"You've seen two of the bedrooms, including mine... What do you think?" He questions, standing tall before me.

My eyes glide over his chest before settling on his face.

"Good enough for you?"

"W-what?"

"This is where we'll live once we're married,"

I freeze.

Again, indisputable. I just stare into dark eyes, remaining quiet.

He comes closer and brushes hair away from my face.

My eyes shut in realization of how much effect he has on me. Being with him renders me speechless, thoughtless, wanting.

"Would you wait on the sofa for me?" His voice dips as his touch lingers on my face.

"Okay," I answer.

He lets me go slowly and turns, headed for the kitchen.

Now alone, I walk to the large sofa, fingers curling on my purse when I sit. My chest won't stop growing tight as I wonder what comes next.

In a few minutes, he's back, a large bowl in one hand and a bottle of wine with two glasses in the other.

I instantly smell popcorn.

He drops the bowl on the sofa before sitting at the other end.

My eyes fall to it. The sweet smell wafts into my nostrils, making my throat dry.

Seated in the middle, I watch him place the wine and glasses on the coffee table.

After uncorking, he fills both glasses.

"Yours," he says, giving me one.

I hold the stem, feeling my stomach flip.

He lifts his glass to mine, and we clank them.

Seconds pass as we stare at each other until he takes a sip of his wine.

I take more than a sip, hoping my nerves would calm.

Then he drops his glass and meets my gaze. There's a soft smile on his face that naturally sends warmth to mine.

"Come sit on my lap, Sophia." He suddenly utters, voice low and relaxed.

I stop breathing.

He stares, waiting like it's the most normal thing.

My brain goes into an instant overdrive. But slowly, I rise, thinking: I was on his lap when we kissed. My purse slips off my shoulder onto the seat.

Wine in hand, I obey, going over to him.

His dark eyes don't stray once, glued to me, raising when I get to him.

Standing before his knees, I lower myself onto his lap. Too carefully.

And the worst happens.

His thighs part because I sit with half-butt. I nearly slip, but his hands close around my waist to steady me.

"Easy," he murmurs, holding firmly, taking my wine glass from me. "I've got you."

The warmth of his hands, the solidness of his chest against my back-it short-circuits every thought in my head.

He drops my glass first, then adjusts me until I'm settled properly on his thighs, my legs draped and dangling beside his.

When I stare at him, embarrassment washes over me, prickling my skin.

"First attempts can be messy..." he says, slipping his right arm around my lower back. "Comfortable?"

I swallow hard and give him a nod.

"Popcorn?" He offers, raising the bowl.

I slowly dip my hand inside, scooping some. He does the same, before dropping the bowl.

We chew in silence, eyes locked.

His dark gaze punches heat through me.

"Tell me something you enjoy," he says, voice quiet but genuine.

I glance at the popcorn briefly, until my gaze accidentally drifts to... his chest.

"Football," I answer.

His shirt clings too well. Metal pressed against large pecs. The outlines-clear as day.

My brain fogs. I curl my toes in my slides.

"American football or-?"

I lift my eyes quickly, seeing the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

"European," I mumble, fighting the urge to look again. "Europeans never say s-soccer. I got to enjoy it in London..."

"So, you call it Football... wasn't expecting that..." He says and puts popcorn in his mouth, eating. "What's your team?"

"On some days, it's Chelsea. Manchester United on other days..." My eyes track back to his piercings.

"Sophia," he murmurs.

I look at him. My lips fold. My breath trembles softly.

"If you keep looking at my chest like that," he says, voice lowering dangerously. "I'm going to think you want to touch them."

My entire body lights on fire.

"I-I wasn't-"

His gaze darkens, stealing my voice, breath, and daring me to deny it. I'm unable to.

Strong arms pull me close, suddenly yet slowly.

My breath hitches.

He stretches a hand and pulls a small box from beneath the coffee table.

It opens, and my eyes fall to an array of precious, chocolate-colored cigars. He picks one.

"You want to feel them, don't you?" His palm slides a little higher on my waist. It sends goosebumps all over me.

He leans closer to my ear and says so quietly, "They're sensitive. But I'll let you touch them... only if you let me touch you, too."

I can't breathe or speak. I just stare at him, my head floating in realization that I'm not stopping this.

"I'll take that as a yes." He utters firmly.