Chapter 17: The Wrong Sophia

Sophia’s hands shook as she clutched the contract papers, her heart pounding against her ribs. The words on the page burned into her mind. Marriage Contract. Julian St. Clair. Sophia Adams.

Her name.

Her stomach twisted.

She barely remembered rushing through the hallways of St. Clair Industries, her legs moving on their own. Her only thought was getting answers. Getting to Julian.

The moment she reached his office, a tall, broad-shouldered man stepped in her path. The bodyguard. His arms crossed over his chest, blocking the door.

“Mr. St. Clair isn’t taking visitors right now.”

“I don’t care!” Sophia snapped, gripping the papers tighter. “Move.”

The bodyguard didn’t flinch.

Her frustration boiled over. Without thinking, she shoved past him, slipping through the doorway before he could grab her.

Julian stood behind his desk, skimming through a document. He barely looked up when she stormed in.

“I said no—” His voice cut off when he saw her.

Sophia slammed the contract onto his desk. “What the hell is this”

Julian’s brows furrowed as he glanced at the papers. He lifted them with a calm expression, scanning the contents. “I finally get to meet you again beautiful, anyways where did you get this”

Sophia’s chest rose and fell rapidly. “I saw it on your PA’s desk”

Julian looked at her, his sharp gaze unreadable. “And?”

Her fists clenched. “And?” she repeated, voice rising. “You seriously have the nerve to ask me that? My name is on a freaking marriage contract, Julian! Is this because of what happened that night?”

Julian’s face remained neutral. “What night?”

Sophia let out a bitter laugh. “Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Julian set the contract down and leaned against his desk, arms folded. “You think I put your name on this because of our one-night stand?”

“What else am I supposed to think?” she shot back. “Why else would you—”

A soft knock on the door interrupted her.

Julian’s bodyguard stepped in, looking tense. “Sir, I tried to stop her.”

Behind him, another figure appeared—Sophia Dawson, Julian’s personal assistant.

“What’s going on?” Sophia Dawson asked, stepping forward. Her gaze flickered between them before landing on the contract. “Oh… you are with it, I have been trying to find it since”.

Sophia turned to her, confusion deepening. “You knew about this?”

Sophia Dawson hesitated before looking at Julian. “Let me explain.”

Julian sighed, rubbing his temple before finally meeting Sophia’s gaze. “It’s not for you.”

The room went silent.

Sophia blinked. “What?”

Julian exhaled, his patience wearing thin. “The contract. It wasn’t meant for you.”

Her fingers loosened around the papers. The words didn’t register immediately.

Sophia Dawson spoke up. “I was the one he proposed the contract to, my name is Sophia Dawson….we bear the same name dear”.

Sophia’s breath caught.

Everything stilled in her mind.

Sophia Dawson.

The other Sophia.

Realization hit her like a brick.

The marriage contract… wasn’t for her. It was for Julian’s personal assistant.

Her face burned with embarrassment, anger, and something she couldn’t quite name. She had barged in here, shouting, accusing, demanding answers—all for nothing.

Julian tilted his head slightly, studying her reaction. “Now that we’ve cleared that up… anything else?”

Sophia opened her mouth, then closed it. She swallowed hard, her pride stinging.

As Sophia was about to walk out, her legs felt weak beneath her, but she forced herself to keep walking. Her mind was spinning, replaying everything that had just happened. The humiliation. The anger. The weight of her mother’s death pressing down on her like a boulder.

Her vision blurred at the edges, and the room seemed to tilt. She barely registered Julian’s voice behind her.

“Sophia.”

She didn’t stop.

Her breath came short and fast, her chest tightening with something deeper than just embarrassment. It was exhaustion. Grief. The crushing weight of too much happening too fast.

She reached the door, gripping the handle for support. The world around her wavered.

Then everything went black.

Julian barely had time to react before he saw her body collapse.

“Sophia!”

He was around the desk in seconds, reaching her before she hit the ground. His arms caught her limp frame, her head lolling against his shoulder. She was completely still. Too still.

“Call an ambulance!” he barked at Sophia Dawson, his pulse spiking.

Sophia Dawson scrambled for her phone, dialing with shaking fingers.

Julian looked down at Sophia’s pale face, her breathing shallow. His grip tightened around her. “Sophia,” he called again, shaking her slightly. No response.

His stomach clenched. He wasn’t the type to panic, but something about seeing her like this—unconscious, lifeless in his arms—made his chest feel tight.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath. He scooped her up effortlessly, ignoring the way Sophia Dawson stared. “Tell the driver to bring the car around. We’re taking her to the hospital now.”

—

The drive to the hospital felt longer than it should have.

Julian sat in the backseat, Sophia’s head resting against his chest. He could feel the heat radiating off her skin, her body limp against him. She looked so fragile like this. The usual fire in her eyes was gone, replaced by a disturbing stillness.

He hated it.

He pressed his lips into a thin line, glancing down at her face. Her brows twitched slightly, as if she was lost in some kind of dream—or nightmare.

“She hasn’t been eating,” Sophia Dawson said from the front seat, her voice quiet.

Julian looked up.

Dawson hesitated. “ She…. looks like she hasn’t slept in days.”

Julian’s jaw tightened.

He knew grief could do terrible things to a person. He had seen it before. But he had been too caught up in his own world to notice what was happening to anyone else.

The driver pulled up to the hospital entrance, and Julian didn’t wait. He pushed open the door, carrying Sophia inside.

“Help!” he called out, his voice sharp.

A nurse rushed forward. “What happened?”

“She collapsed. She’s burning up,” Julian said quickly.

The nurse nodded, signaling to a stretcher. Julian carefully placed Sophia down, watching as they wheeled her away.

For the first time in a long time, he felt something unfamiliar.

Worry.

And it unsettled him.

….

As the nurses wheeled Sophia away, Julian stood frozen at the entrance of the emergency room. His fists clenched at his sides, his chest tight with something he couldn’t quite name.

Then, just as they were about to disappear behind the doors, one of the doctors turned back to him.

“Are you her husband?”

The question hit him like a brick.

Julian’s mouth parted slightly, but no words came out.

Behind him, Sophia Dawson sucked in a sharp breath.

The doctor frowned. “We need a decision-maker for her treatment. If you’re her husband, you’ll need to sign off on everything.”

Julian’s gaze flickered to Sophia’s unconscious face, her skin pale against the hospital sheets.

For the first time in his life, he didn’t have an answer.