From Ashes To The Billionaire's Arms

SOPHIA

"Welcome home," my father said as he pulled me into a warm hug. His voice was steady and comforting.

I smiled shyly as I stepped into the mansion. It was enormous, luxurious, and intimidating in its grandeur. My eyes darted around, taking in the sparkling chandeliers and polished floors. It was nothing like the modest countryside home I had lived in my entire life.

As I stood awkwardly, a woman with kind eyes and an elegant smile approached me. “We’ve been waiting for you, Sophia,” she said warmly. Olivia Quinn, my father’s wife. She seemed genuinely nice, not the wicked stepmother I had dreaded meeting.

Then there was Isabella, my half-sister, who radiated warmth and excitement. She grabbed my hand almost instantly.

“You’re going to love it here,” she said, her enthusiasm infectious.

For the first time since I lost my mom, I felt like I had a family.

My life before this moment had been simple and lonely. My mother raised me alone in the countryside, far away from the life my father had built. My parents were college sweethearts, but an unplanned pregnancy and the influence of my father’s wealthy family had torn them apart. I grew up without him, and though my mother never spoke badly about him, the absence was always there.

When my mother fell ill, she gave me an old envelope with an address scribbled on it. “Find him,” she whispered weakly. “You deserve to know your father.” She passed away shortly after, leaving me with nothing but her final wish.

I had no idea what to expect when I knocked on his door. Would he reject me? Deny me? To my surprise, he welcomed me in. He hugged me, but I could see a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. He insisted on a DNA test, and when the results confirmed I was his daughter, he opened his home to me.

My first week with his family felt like a dream. Olivia and Isabella took me shopping, filling my wardrobe with clothes I could never afford back home. My father showered me with gifts, and the meals were extravagant. It all seemed too good to be true.

And it was.

On the seventh day, my father approached me with a serious expression. “Sophia,” he began, his tone soft but insistent, “I really need your help with something important.”

I didn’t even think twice before agreeing. “You know I’ll do anything to make you happy, Dad,” I replied.

I had no idea what I had just signed up for.

The next thing I knew, I was being married to Victor Sinclair, a man I had never met. The ceremony was brief, almost clinical. Victor wasn’t even there. Instead, an elderly butler stood in his place, reading the vows like it was just another task on his to-do list. My father and Victor’s mother, Evelyn, were the only witnesses.

I felt a strange emptiness as I signed the marriage certificate. I didn’t want this. But my father needed me, and I couldn’t say no.

After the ceremony, I said goodbye to my father and followed Evelyn to the Sinclair estate. She was nice...almost too nice, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

When we reached Victor’s room, my heart sank. Evelyn opened the door to reveal a hospital bed at the center of a dimly lit room. Lying on it was a man.....my husband....completely still, hooked up to machines.

“He’s… comatose?” I managed to whisper, my voice trembling.

Evelyn nodded, her expression sad. “For over four months now,” she said. “He’s my eldest son, and I need someone to care for him. A wife’s touch can make all the difference.”

I felt betrayed. No one had told me the truth about Victor. But as I looked at him....his pale face, his dark hair resting against the pillow, I couldn’t bring myself to leave.

That evening, Evelyn explained my duties as Victor’s wife. I was to care for him, ensure he was comfortable, and spend all my time by his side. It was overwhelming, but I nodded. I told myself I could do this.

Then, later that night, the door to Victor’s room creaked open.

I looked up from where I sat beside his bed to see a man leaning against the doorframe. He had a cocky grin and an air of arrogance that made my skin crawl.

“Lucas Sinclair,” he said, introducing himself. “Victor’s little brother.”

“Nice to meet you,” I replied, forcing a polite smile.

“You must be bored,” he said, stepping closer.

“What do you mean?” I asked warily, standing up.

“Victor isn’t exactly... available. Maybe I could help keep you company tonight.”

Before I could react, Lucas grabbed my wrist, pulling me close. His touch was rough, his intentions obvious.

“Let me go!” I shouted, struggling against him.

“Relax,” he whispered. “You’ll enjoy this.”

“Get away from me!” I screamed, my voice breaking.

The door flew open, and Evelyn stormed in. Her eyes darted between us, and Lucas didn’t miss a beat.

“She came onto me,” he said smoothly. “She said she was lonely and needed someone who could satisfy her.”

My jaw dropped. “That’s a lie!” I shouted, but Evelyn didn’t give me a chance to explain.

She slapped me across the face, her eyes filled with disgust. “How dare you?” she hissed.

Tears stung my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I turned to Lucas, my hand shaking with anger, and slapped him hard. “That’s for disrespecting your brother and lying about me. Try this again, and I’ll report you to the police.”

Lucas glared at me, his cheek red, and stormed out of the room. Evelyn pointed a finger at me. “Your only duty is to look after your husband. Don’t you dare step outside this house.”

She left, closing the door behind her.

I sank onto the chair beside Victor’s bed, my hands trembling. I looked at his peaceful face, my chest tightening with frustration and fear.

“Victor,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I need you to wake up. Please. You’re the only one who can help me now.”