Married To His Secrets

Sophia downed yet another glass of beer and slammed it onto the table with a heavy thud. The crystal rang out, sharp and fleeting before the loud music and wild partying in the club swallowed it whole.

She barely flinched at the bitter aftertaste. Instead, she reached for the bottle again, her hands trembling. The lights blurred as tears threatened to fall, and she forced them back with a rough swipe across her cheek.

On the eve of her wedding, she chose to drown—not in love, but in liquor. Her uncle would be furious if he ever found her here.

Edward. The name burned through her chest. How could he? After everything?

They had been together since high school, and she had sacrificed everything for him. She remembered the boy who once held her hand shyly, who whispered promises of forever under the oak tree near campus. Now, he was a man she hardly recognized—Managing Director of Regal Enterprises, sharp suits, sharper words, and an arrogance that only wealth could buy.

And worst of all, she had just discovered he’d been seeing another woman.

Prior to that, she had defended him countless times, ignoring whispers and doubts. But there was no defending what she saw with her own eyes today—Edward, the man she loved, in tangled sheets with his ‘personal assistant.’

It was the same assistant he had always dismissed as ‘just business’. Yet there he was, in her bed.

With an aggressive sniff, Sophia shook her head briskly, fighting off the heartbreaking memory.

Her stomach knotted. She tipped back another gulp, hoping the alcohol would blur the image of Edward with someone else. It didn’t.

However, her thoughts were only rudely interrupted by a deep voice—

“What’s a beautiful woman like you doing alone when she should be dancing?”

Sophia blinked and shifted, wiping her face with the back of her palm. Then she lowered her gaze almost immediately, as if not wanting the stranger to see she was crying. But he noticed anyway.

“Miss? Are you crying?” the stranger asked, his rich baritone voice cutting through the noise in the club.

She held back from cursing at him for interrupting her moment of sulking and solitude. Couldn't he read the room?

Slowly, she lifted her head enough to get a better view of the man who stood above her.

His tall frame filled the dim neon light like he belonged here and yet somehow stood apart from the chaos. His hair was jet-black and a little disheveled, but what struck her was his steel gray eyes which glittered in the reflection of the soft lights. And they were staring deep into her soul.

“Are you okay?” he asked, a hint of curiosity in his tone.

“Yes,” Sophia answered curtly, averting her gaze from his unsettling stare. “Please, mind your business and just leave me alone. Go enjoy the party.”

Though she wasn't looking at him, she could feel the stranger shift in surprise. She thought he was probably one of those guys who thought every woman owed him attention just because he spoke to her.

So she waited for a few seconds, almost certain he would walk away in disgust. However, he didn't. Instead, he sat down beside her, a friendly expression etched on his face.

Confused, Sophia turned to stare at him, her brows furrowed in a tight frown. She hesitated, observing this young man with intense scrutiny. She could get a better view of his face now that he was sitting close to her.

The man smiled slightly, as if trying to perform the default act of “cheering up a sad stranger because I'm a good person.”

How dare he think she was pathetic and needed cheering up?

Sophia wished she would be left alone to her thoughts. But she couldn't say that now that the man had already taken a seat beside her.

“Actually, I wasn't enjoying the party,” he began, his tone exuding warmth. “Which is why I wandered around and found you.”

Sophia raised a questioning brow, her face contorted with slight annoyance. Was that supposed to be a pick-up line?

The man sensed her hesitation and his lips curved into a slight, knowing smile. Then he stretched out his hand for a handshake. “I'm Liam. Nice to meet you.”

After a long, hard stare, Sophia reluctantly placed her hand in his. Her curious eyes never left his face. “Nice to meet you too,” she said flatly.

The man nodded slightly as if content that she had finally spoken to him. Then he looked away and let out a sigh.

“I wanted to ask why you were crying. But then, I get it,” he said and leaned back in his seat. “I don't know what's going on, but… people don't cry in clubs for nothing.” His voice was almost silent, and his gaze thoughtful.

Sophia wanted to protest, disagree, or lie that she wasn't crying. But she couldn't, because he was actually right. Instead, she scowled, gripping her glass so tightly her knuckles paled.

Life did hit her hard. And here she was, crying in the club. But what could she do? She had to get married to Edward anyway or her uncle would bury her alive.

Liam noticed the awkward silence that followed and he turned to look at her once again. There was a deep despair and hollowness in her eyes that he couldn't miss, even if he wanted to.

“I'm sorry. I guess that was inappropriate or something. Don't get irritated though,” he said, though his tone was tinged with uncertainty.

Sophia lowered her gaze. A wave of embarrassment wrapped around her like a blanket. It was awkward to know that a complete stranger had caught her in a vulnerable state.

Just before either of them could say anything else, her phone vibrated, the ringtone piercing through the din.

Their attention shifted to the phone screen, and Sophia's heart skipped a beat as she caught a glimpse of the caller’s name.

Her uncle.

She was certain he would be very furious. She wanted to ignore his calls, but realized that it would only make things worse.

“Aren't you going to answer that?” Liam asked, staring at the vibrating phone with a slight mixture of confusion and curiosity.

Sophia inhaled sharply and grabbed her phone from the table, swiping her thumb across the screen to answer the call.

Before she could find her voice to say something, her uncle’s angry words burst through the phone speaker, his voice commanding even over the bass of the club.

“Sophia! Where the fuck are you the night before your own wedding?”

Liam couldn't really hear what was transpiring at the other end of the line, but he could see the clear switch in Sophia's expression.

Her face darkened with rage, her jaw clenched. Her grip tightened around her phone, and her hands were visibly trembling.

“What’s going on in that head of yours? Do you want to ruin everything?” he snarled. He paused, as though waiting for her excuse.

Her throat tightened, her lips parting slightly. “I—”

“Come home this very minute, or you'll regret it!”

And with that, her uncle hung up.

Slowly, Sophia lowered the phone from her ear, her angry stare locked onto a distant point.

Her eyes flicked to the screen, her heart pounding with dread. Rage, shame, and helplessness warred inside her. She shoved the phone into her bag, her breath shaky.

Liam leaned in, his brows slightly furrowed in concern. “Is everything okay?” he asked, his piercing eyes watching her closely.

“I have to go,” Sophia said immediately, almost to herself, grabbing her things as she rose to leave.

“Wait!” Liam exclaimed and shot to his feet as well. “Can I at least get your number?”

“No,” Sophia replied coldly, walking out on him, heading straight for the exit. She didn't owe him courtesy, much less her number.

Speechless and confused, Liam watched her weave unsteadily through the crowd until she disappeared into the neon haze. For reasons he couldn’t explain, his gaze lingered long after she was gone.

What had happened to her? Was she just drunk or something more?

He shook his head in defeat and sat down, his mood obviously ruined. A disbelieving scoff escaped his lips, and he flashed a subtle glare at the exit door. He spent the rest of the night thinking about the strange girl whose name he didn't even know.