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CHAPTER 29 — “The Quiet Beginning”
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2025-12-03 23:46:14(Sophie’s POV)
When I left the city, I wasn’t running toward freedom. I was running from memory. From shame. From betrayal. From her. People assume the wound was Ryan leaving me. But it wasn’t. It was Mom taking him. I have forgiven them but it still hurts. Even now, I can barely think it without my stomach twisting. He wasn’t just a husband — he was the man I thought would save me. And she… she showed me that no one ever would. So I boarded that train with one belief carved into me like a scar: I am not enough. My New Life, Alone The loft was small and rough and imperfect. But it was honest. I worked odd jobs at first — barista, data entry, newsletter formatting — whatever paid enough to buy groceries. Some mornings I woke up motivated. Some mornings I couldn’t even stand without shaking. I made friends slowly. I learned the city by walking it. I discovered corners of the world I never knew existed — a second-hand bookstore run by a gentle old man, a bench by a river where no one asked questions, a bakery that sold bread warm enough to feel like a hug. But always, in the quiet… the doubt returned. What if Ryan left because I wasn’t enough? What if Mom was stronger, prettier, smarter? What if women like me are meant to be replaced? I never told anyone these thoughts. I hid them like something shameful. Mom’s Voice From Afar We didn’t talk much. When we did, it was strained. But one night I called her unexpectedly. I wanted to scream. I wanted to accuse. I wanted to ask why. Instead, I whispered: “Did you love him more?” There was a long silence. Then her voice — small, tired: “I loved him differently. But I never loved him instead of you.” I didn’t know what to say to that. I still don’t. Exploring Myself I went to therapy. I wrote in a journal. I dated casually and fled quickly. I took dance classes and quit. I tried painting and failed. I volunteered at an animal rescue and lasted two months. Life was… messy. But it was mine. And slowly, painfully… I began to feel the faint outlines of a new version of myself. A woman not shaped by Ryan. Or by Mom. Or by expectations. A woman shaped by choice. The World Tilts It happened at work. Months later, after I had finally secured a stable job at a growing marketing agency, we were told we had a new set of private investors interested in a long-term multi-department partnership. They weren’t one client. They were three. The Crawford brothers. Three billionaires. Three personalities. Three pairs of eyes that would eventually see me — in different ways. Their names were spoken in the office with a reverence usually reserved for royalty or myth. Adrian Crawford — the eldest. Controlled. Strategic. Unshakable presence. Lucian Crawford — the second. Smoldering intensity. Dominant focus. Cassian Crawford — the youngest. Warm-voiced. Effortlessly magnetic. I didn’t meet them immediately. It was weeks of prepping presentations and drafting proposals. But the whispers about them grew: “Adrian got his first million at 19…” “Lucian can send half the board into panic just by walking in…” “Cassian could charm a wild tiger into purring at his feet…” I tried to ignore it. I told myself I didn’t care. They were billionaires. I was… just Sophie. The First Contact Our first interaction wasn’t in person. It was an email. A group one. I was CC’d accidentally. And the message, from Adrian, said: Innovation requires vulnerability. If we’re afraid to fail, we’ll never build anything worth succeeding at. Something about the wording… stopped me. Vulnerability. Failure. Growth. Words I had lived. Words I understood. And for the first time in a long, long time… I felt a flicker of something inside me that wasn’t fear.
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