ANMELDENThey wanted to choose my husband so I bought one instead. ~~~ " You'll be meeting your soon-to-be husband at the next family dinner." Aunt Melissa's words hit like poison. I choked, shock seizing my breath. Family dinners at my grandparents' estate were always hell- ear-shattering arguments, insults wrapped in concern, smiles hiding knives. But this? This crossed every line. Who the hell do they think they were, choosing my husband like I was some pawn in their twisted game? That's never going to happen. I built my Empire from the ruins of my inheritance and survived the accident that claimed my parents' lives. Survived Sophie's lifetime of cruelty always my shadow, so desperate to eclipse me. I didn't survive all that to let them control who I marry. ~~~ Then I saw him. David Kane. Six foot three of breathtaking perfection, commanding my manufacturing floor like he was born for it. Dark hair, ice blue eyes, and a body that made me forget to breathe. The branch manager's son. Nobody important. That was perfect. If my family wants to force a husband on me I'd bring them one on my own terms. They forgot who I am. I am Sophia Ashford. I don't play by their rules and am about to make the most dangerous deal of my life.
Mehr anzeigenSophia's POVAlex arrived on a Sunday in July with a box.Not a large box. A shoebox, specifically, with holes punched in the lid with the careful regularity of someone who had thought about ventilation requirements and addressed them properly.Miriam was beside him.She had the expression of someone who had not been consulted about the box and had decided, somewhere between Alex's flat and our front door, that her role in the situation was to be present without contributing to it."Don't," she said to me, before I could speak. "I know. I tried."Isabella was visiting with Catherine. Catherine was in the garden. Isabella was in the kitchen with coffee and the specific expression of someone who had seen this particular configuration before in various forms and was curious about the current iteration.David came to the door.Looked at the box.Looked at Alex."No," he said."He's very healthy," Alex said. "I've done extensive research.""You've done extensive research on a frog.""On th
Sophia's POVThe gala was Emma's idea.Of course it was.She'd proposed it eight months in advance with the specific energy of someone who had identified a necessary thing and was presenting it with enough lead time that resistance became impractical."Twenty-five years," she'd said. "That's not nothing. That's a milestone that deserves to be seen publicly.""I don't need a gala.""The foundation needs one. There's a difference." She'd held my gaze with the patience of twenty-five years of knowing exactly when I was conflating the personal and the institutional. "The foundation has eighteen centers across eight countries. It has Claudia's published research and Nora's climate grief program in development and scholarship recipients who are now professionals giving back to the communities they came from. That deserves a room full of people acknowledging it."She was right.She was almost always right about these things."Fine," I'd said."I'll organize everything," she'd said immediatel
David's POVEmma's son called me on a Wednesday evening in June.Not his mother's phone. His own. Which I recognized immediately as significant in the way Nora calling Sophia had been significant three weeks earlier. The Kane-Lawson children knew which conversations went where. They'd been watching this family long enough to understand its specific frequencies.William was seventeen.The particular seventeen that was almost eighteen. The threshold that was less about age than about the specific accumulation of understanding that arrived in that year — the moment a person began to see themselves from the outside for the first time and found the view both clarifying and destabilizing."Can I come over?" he said. "Not tonight. Saturday maybe.""Saturday works. Your mother knows?""I'll tell her." A pause. "It's not — I'm not in trouble or anything.""I didn't think you were.""I just wanted to talk to you specifically." Another pause, carrying the self-consciousness of a seventeen-year-o
Sophia's POVNora called on a Sunday in May.Not Emma's phone. Her own. Which meant she'd made a decision about who she was calling and had chosen deliberately.I answered on the second ring."Are you free?" she said. "To talk properly. Not quickly.""I'm free.""Can I come over?"She arrived forty minutes later. Twenty-one years old, Emma's eldest, with her mother's watchfulness and Jake's warmth and something of her own that had been becoming more defined with each passing year. She was in her third year of environmental science. She'd spent last summer on a research vessel in the North Atlantic collecting ocean temperature data. She'd come back from it changed in the specific way people came back from experiences that had confirmed something they'd needed confirmed.She sat at the kitchen table.David made tea and found reasons to be elsewhere.Nora watched him go. "He always does that.""He knows when rooms need two people.""Isabella said the same thing once." She wrapped her han
Sophia’s POVThe restaurant was small—hidden on a quiet side street in the West Village. Exposed brick walls, candlelight flickering in mismatched glass holders, jazz playing low enough to feel intimate without drowning conversation. David had chosen it. No reservation needed. No press. Just us.I
Sophia’s POVSunlight slipped through the half-closed blinds, painting thin gold stripes across the sheets. I woke slowly—limbs heavy, body pleasantly sore in places I hadn’t felt in years. David’s arm was still draped over my waist, his breath warm and even against the back of my neck.No panic.N
Sophia’s POVThree days had passed since the pool attempt—three days of quiet mornings, late-night files, and David’s steady presence pulling me back from every edge I almost fell over.I hadn’t gone back in the water yet.But I thought about it constantly.The way it felt to stand waist-deep witho
Sophia’s POVThe headline hit my inbox at 7:32 a.m. Monday.**Ashford Heiress Buys Her Way to Love? Sources Say Sophia Ashford's Sudden Fiancé Is a Paid Prop**I stared at the screen—coffee mug halfway to my lips, forgotten. The article was trash—tabloid gossip, anonymous “sources” claiming David w


















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