Chapter Nine: The Cruel King and his forgotten Queen

Sophia's POV

“So this is how my life ends?” I thought silently, tears rolling silently down my cheeks.

Still in my wedding dress, I sat on the cold floor like a beggar in need of mercy. The white silk had been creased beyond recognition. My veil had slid off, now lying like a forsaken petal beside me. The roses that once adorned my hair had withered, just like the hope I once clung to.

Leonard had left. He had locked the door after unleashing his wrath—leaving me broken on our wedding night like I was just a piece of the puzzle he needed to destroy something greater.

All of it had been a performance. A calculated revenge. And I was the prop.

He didn’t even tell me what my father had done to warrant such hatred. He just left, and now I sat in a room that still smelled of rose petals and scented candles, as if mocking me—reminding me that this was supposed to be a night of passion, not punishment.

I pressed my hands into the floor, feeling the cool marble grounding me while my mind floated through a storm. I wanted to stand, to tear off the dress, to scream and demand answers. But I couldn’t. My body wouldn’t obey.

Instead, I watched the silence crawl around me. The music from the post-wedding celebration had long since faded. No more laughter. No more fake congratulations. No more clinking glasses or whispers about how lucky I was to marry the empire’s king.

Lucky?

The grandfather clock ticked in mocking rhythm. I turned my head weakly toward it. 11:43 PM. Still dressed like a bride. Still untouched, unwanted. Unloved.

And worse—now I understood that I was also unsafe.

My life was no longer mine. It belonged to a man who had made it clear he saw me as a weapon, not a wife.

What was going to happen tomorrow? Or the next day? Would he keep me here? Would he parade me around as his trophy? Or would he dispose of me once I had served my purpose?

I wrapped my arms around myself and whispered into the cold silence, “God, please… don’t let me disappear here.”

**********

MORANO ESTATE – BALCONY

Leonard’s POV

"It has been long I felt this satisfied,” I muttered, holding a glass of deep red wine in one hand, a cigarette in the other. The night air was crisp, the stars unbothered by the chaos beneath them. I leaned back on the steel balcony rail, the wind brushing through my shirt like a loyal servant obeying my mood.

Tonight had gone exactly the way I wanted. Sophia’s shattered expression was now etched in my mind—haunting, beautiful, fragile. A masterpiece born of revenge.

She was trembling in that room right now, no doubt still in her wedding dress, crying over the illusion of love and safety she thought she had entered into.

Perfect.

A hand slipped around my torso from behind, slow, seductive. Familiar. My skin didn’t even flinch.

“Thelma,” I whispered, smiling.

Her fingers toyed with the hem of my shirt, moving upward under my arm, then across my chest in slow, predatory circles. “You always feel my presence. How do you do that?” she asked, her voice a sultry purr.

I turned, letting my eyes drink her in. Tight red dress. Those piercing eyes. Lips like poison and promises.

“You have a familiar scent,” I said simply, leaning closer. “How can I forget?”

She chuckled and took the wine from me, sipping it like a queen who knew she owned part of the kingdom. We had known each other forever. Through death, fire, betrayal. She was my shadow. My sin. My sanity. And when it suited us—each other’s escape.

“Are you not supposed to be with your wife?” she teased, adding a delicious dose of sarcasm that made my jaw twitch.

“You know why I married her,” I said with a hollow laugh.

“Oh, I know,” Thelma said, grinning. “You’re really ruthless, Leonard. You married a child to wage a war of vengeance. Tell me, does she know?”

“She doesn’t need to know,” I said flatly. “Let her suffer in confusion. That pain is more effective than any blade.”

Thelma raised a brow. “Martin’s daughter... What did he do that made you so cold?”

I gripped the balcony rail tightly. My cigarette crushed between my fingers, the ember flickering before fading.

“He killed my father,” I said. “He betrayed us. Sold secrets to the Delgados for money, left us exposed when the ambush came. I watched my father die in front of me, Thelma. The man who gave everything to keep the empire clean. And Martin….”

Her smirk faded into a knowing silence. She walked over and placed the wine glass on the table.

“I’ll help you. I told you that. But don’t forget what we agreed on.”

“I haven’t,” I replied. “You’ll get your reward when the time comes.”

She moved closer again, her voice dipping. “Hey… shouldn’t tonight be about us? You won, didn’t you? She’s broken, and you’re here, free.”

She leaned in, kissing the base of my throat, her nails grazing my ribs. “Let’s make it a night worth remembering.”

I didn’t stop her. Her lips traced my jaw, her fingers exploring familiar territory. She always knew how to drag the cruelty out of me—and tonight, I wanted that.

Just as her kiss deepened, I caught something from the corner of my eye.

A shadow by the door.

Bare feet. A silhouette of torn beauty.

Sophia.

She stood there like a ghost who stumbled upon her own funeral. The candlelight behind her flickered in time with her shattered breathing.

I didn’t flinch. I didn’t stop.

Instead, I looked right into her eyes as I pulled Thelma closer, gripping her waist, and pressed a deeper, longer kiss on her lips. I held Thelma possessively—like a king claiming what was his.

All while watching Sophia’s soul disintegrate before me.

Her lips parted in silent horror. Her body trembled, hands clutching the doorway like she’d collapse.

I drank it all in. Every shard of her emotion.

This was exactly what I wanted.

The pain.

The betrayal.

The reminder that she belonged here, but not to me—not really. She belonged to the cage I built, and every inch of it would teach her what it meant to be a pawn in my empire.

She didn’t run.

She didn’t cry.

She just stood there… watching me with those wounded eyes that said: Why?

I didn’t blink.

I didn’t answer.

Because she would find out.

And by the time she did, there’d be nothing left of the innocent girl her father once protected.

There’d only be ashes.