Sofia Pov
I ignore the pain in my head as I peel my eyes open. The constant throbbing doesn't go away as I look around the room. I'm in my room. The last thing I remember is feeling dazed while Mom and Grandma argued. Before I can analyze it, my bedroom door is gently pushed open. Grandma appears with a bowl of steaming soup and a glass of water. The fragrance hits me—delicious. "Thank God you're awake. I was beginning to get worried, even after Lucy checked on you," Grandma says, smiling as she places the tray on the bed and climbs in next to me. "What happened?" I manage to ask. My voice is hoarse, like I’ve been out for days. "Where’s—" She waves the question off before I can finish. "Young lady, eat first and talk later." I chuckle. "Are you being strict with me, Granny? I'm sick—I deserve the baby treatment." "Alright, honey." She gives in instantly. Mom was right—Granny spoils me too much. Maybe that’s why I feel safe here. At home. Somewhere I don’t have to earn kindness. "You have to eat more so I won’t have to worry," she says, adjusting the tray. "I almost had a heart attack when you fainted." "I'm sorry. I didn’t do it on purpose." "I know." She picks up the spoon, blowing softly to cool it down. There's something awkward in her hands. Probably Mom said something, and now she doesn’t know how to break it to me. "Mom doesn’t think the same, right?" I ask. "She probably thinks I passed out on purpose because..." "Sofia," she cuts in gently, "your mother is that way—it doesn't mean she doesn’t love you and want the best for you." "Best for me?" I scoff. "Or best for her and her fancy new family." Right. She never cares about me. I'm the dramatic one. Always the mistake. The best thing she ever did for me was divorcing Dad. At least that gave me some days of silence—without being reminded of how imperfect I am. Grandma offers me a spoonful. I open my mouth reluctantly. "You should’ve met your grandfather Jonathan," she says with a nostalgic smile. The taste of soup collides with the sourness in my mouth. Delicious. "Your mom is just a tip of the iceberg." I raise a brow. "Yeah, Grandma Tessa?" She chuckles. "I'm being serious. Your grandfather was a narcissistic jerk." She manages to pull a small smile from me. "If you don’t believe me, just look at my face. I’m barely seventy and already all wrinkled." I chuckle. I don’t see wrinkles. Just beauty lines—on the most beautiful and understanding granny. She feeds me another spoon. "Grandma, I love you so, so much." She drops the spoon and pulls me into her arms. "You are the only person who understands me." Her chest vibrates with emotion. I was only being thankful—I didn’t mean to make her cry. "I wish you could stay, but your mother is taking you back..." "I'm not going with her." My chest tightens at the thought. Her husband. Brianna. The house that’s not mine. "She is your mother and legal guardian..." "But I'm twenty-one." "It doesn’t matter to us mothers. Till the day you marry, you are always going to be our little girl." “So I’m always going to be your little girl, huh, Granny Tessa?” I tease. She laughs, ruffling my hair. “Always and forever. You’re my only grandchild, so my love is only for you.” “I’m going to be really greedy, Granny.” “Awwn, child, you’re allowed to be.” I laugh, letting her warmth soak in—but the ache in my chest only deepens. How am I supposed to pass anything when I haven’t even been paying attention in class? And Professor Lucien… earlier… That was insane. I still can’t believe he asked me to give him a blowjob just because he caught me stealing the answer booklet. My problems went from bad to off-the-charts insane. Heat creeps up my neck as I recall the way he grabbed my hand and placed it on his— I shudder. I don’t even want to think about it. Cool, grumpy-pants Professor Lucien acting like that? Totally unbelievable. How could anyone be that… well, big down there? I even let my fingers— “Sofia Carson…” I jolt. A light flick lands on my forehead. I look up and meet Grandma’s disapproving gaze. “Grandma, that hurts,” I groan playfully. Not that she actually hit me hard. “What were you thinking about? I’ve been rambling for a whole minute, and you didn’t hear a word.” She narrows her eyes. Crap. I totally zoned out. Thinking about that creep. “It’s… nothing important.” “Sofia,” she drawls. I squint at her. “You always say my name like that when something’s up.” “Sofia.” “Grandma, just spit it out. I’m not a baby,” I grin. “I’m a grown-ass—” “Shut up.” She cuts me off with a glare. “You’re too tiny to be a grown-ass.” I chuckle. “What’s up, Mama Tess?” “Shut up, girl. Mama Tess is only for—” “Grown-ass women,” I finish, earning a laugh from her. “I’m going to miss you,” she says. I want to laugh. “Not going to happen.” But her face shifts. Like she wants to believe me. But can't. My mom. The volcano. She’s going to make my life a living hell. “Becky told me if you fail the assessment and fall below average, you’re going to her house.” I knew it. My mom is my nemesis. I wince. If only I had been focused… I wouldn’t even be worrying about my result. But then an idea hits me. “All I have to do is ace the assessment and I get to keep my peace.” Grandma’s face cracks. “Sofia…” I almost laugh. She has no faith in me, huh? “I’m gonna pass. All I need is an insanely good tutor who’s strict as hell.” We both fall silent. Then burst out laughing. The idea of me acing anything? Yeah. Comedy gold. “Sofia Carson, you are not going to kill this old lady.” She hugs me tighter. I bury my face into her chest. But even as her warmth wraps around me, that ache in my chest doesn’t go away. Because I know what I’ve done. What I let happen. What Professor Lucien asked of me. And what scares me the most… Is that I didn’t say no. I didn’t scream. I didn’t push him away. I froze— And let his hand guide mine to where it never should’ve gone. I hate that part of me. The quiet part. The frozen part. The part that didn’t fight back when I should have. And now that memory won’t leave me alone. His breath near my ear. The heat of his skin. The way he looked at me like he could own me. “I swear I’m gonna pass. I promise you, Grandma. Nothing is going to separate us.” She pulls back just a little, brushing my hair off my face with shaky fingers. “I know, baby. I believe you.” Then she lets out a sigh, like she’s been holding her breath this whole time. “I’ll go make your tea. Try to close your eyes, even if it’s just for a little while.” I nod. She stands slowly and walks out, closing the door gently behind her. As the door clicks shut behind her, a thought slips through the haze in my mind. Small. Maybe even silly. But suddenly, it feels clear. What if I ask him to tutor me? Professor Lucien. He’s the only one who knows the syllabus inside out. The only one who might actually get me through this exam. But I’m scared of what it’ll take. And hopeful it won’t break me. Then— The voices. “She’s getting too comfortable in that school,” Mom snaps. “If she can’t keep her head down, I’m pulling her out. I mean it this time.” “You’ll destroy her, Becky” Grandma shoots back, firmer now. “She’s trying. You just don’t want to see it.” “Trying? Really? Lying to me, sneaking around, fainting out of nowhere like some drama queen? That school is a bad influence, and I’m done waiting for it to fix her.” My chest tightens. Change schools? My heart drops. No. Not now. Not when I’ve finally started to breathe again. She’s not just threatening school. She’s threatening the only version of me that still exists. The only life I’ve managed to build from the wreckage. And the worst part? She might actually do it. But even that isn't what scares me most. What scares me— Is what he said. What he whispered after he caught me in his office. “Suck it, Sofia Carson. Take your punishment. And maybe I’ll let this slide.” I couldn’t move. And now… I can’t forget. The question won’t leave my head. Can I convince Professor Lucien to help me—without getting on my knees?SOFIA’S POV “I…” The noise fades. The voices vanish. And I’m back there. Professor Lucien’s kitchen— My legs swing from his marble counter, the cold biting through my thin skirt. His jacket is still draped over my shoulders, like I hadn’t stopped him from claiming me. He stands a breath away. Sleeves rolled. Collar loose. Two top buttons undone—like temptation. His fingers curl around a glass he never drinks from. Not really… Because his eyes are drinking me in instead. “Sofia…” He says my name like a man who’s just repented… but is about to sin again. Hungry. Regretful. Low. Raspy. His gaze dips to my bare thighs— then lingers on my lips. “Sofia…” I jolt. The world slams back in. Cheering. Buzzing voices. Lights. Movement. Keira leans in, her smile too tight. “You’re taking too long.” I blink. The noise prickles my skin. Holy shit. I just zoned out. Not to nowhere— there. Back to his kitchen. Back to him. I force my eyes
Sofia's Pov “Titanic, Titanic, Titanic!” Our section roars, the chant pulsing through the air like a heartbeat. Banners wave, hands clap, the whole bleacher sways with energy. Our section is on fire. "Go Titanic boys!" Mia yells again, punching the air. "Make us proud, pretty boy!" "GO LEO! BREAK SOME RIBS—wait, not like that!" she adds, and I snort. Kiera eyes her from the corner of her mouth. "You break that chair and you’re paying for it." Mia flips her hair like a diva. "Relax. It's barely wobbling—OH!" The chair tips and Mia flails before catching her balance. “See? Fine.” Kiera just sighs. “This is why we can’t have nice things.” “You guys should cheer!” Mia huffs. “If this ends in a draw, they’ll go to penalties. Do you want to watch Elijah take a shot and miss?” Kiera shrugs. “I kind of do. He’s so dramatic. He’ll probably cry on the field and still look hot doing it.” My mouth opens. “He’s not that dramatic—” They both freeze. So do I. Damn it.
Sofia's Pov I slam the door behind me, chest heaving. Darkness wraps around me. When did it get this late? I fumble for my phone, heart thudding as the screen lights up. 7:03 PM. Shit. A wall of notifications floods the screen—missed calls from Mia, Kiera… even Grandma. Twelve in total. My stomach knots. I’m so screwed. I order a ride and just as I'm about to breathe, a notification pings. “Pick-up point set to estate entrance. Taxis are not allowed inside.” Of course. “Ugh, seriously?” I curse under my breath, shoving my phone into my bag. I start walking fast, the shadows stretching as I pass, cold air biting at my arms. Why does this night keep getting worse? I jog, the wind whipping across my face, stinging my eyes. My heart’s racing, my fingers won’t stop trembling. It takes over ten minutes—ten long, breathless minutes—before I finally round the corner and spot a taxi idling just past the gate. I slow down, walk past the estate entrance, and slide
Lucien's Pov She is bent over the textbook again, underlining something softly, her lips moving as she reads aloud to herself — almost like a whisper meant only for the page. She doesn’t even notice I haven’t said anything in a while. I rub the back of my neck. I’ve been watching too long. I push back my chair and stand. “I need a drink,” I mutter, already heading for the kitchen. “Water, please,” she calls, like we do this often. Like she belongs here. I open the fridge, grip the edge of the door. The cold bottle cools my palm, but my throat still feels dry. I twist open the bottle and take a swig. The cold rush helps. Sort of. Footsteps pad behind me. “Is that juice?” she asks, voice soft, curious. I turn halfway. She’s leaning on the doorframe now, eyes on the bottle. Barefoot. Comfortable. "It’s water. Let me get you one." I pull the freezer door open, the cool air washing over my skin as I reach in. Bottles clink. I grab one, condensation already slick across the s
Lucien's Pov My phone buzzes as I hit the third step. "Michael," I mutter, sliding over the green icon without slowing down. His voice comes in too bright. “Hey man! Just checking if you’ve started on the designs.” Of course he is. I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’ll call you when I’m done.” I say flatly, ending the call before he can start rambling. I toss the phone onto the bed. By the time I reach the bathroom, my head’s already pounding. I shut my eyes under the spray, letting the water slam into me, hard and cold. Maybe it’ll knock some sense back in. Maybe it won’t. I yank off my shirt, the fabric dragging across my skin like a tease I didn’t ask for. My pants follow, and the friction—God—my body reacts before I can stop it. A groan slips out, uninvited. “Arrgh… Sofia.” Her name scrapes out of me before I can swallow it back. I squeeze my eyes shut, biting down hard on my lower lip. That’s her move—exactly how she does it. She gnaws on it until it turns pink and sw
Sofia's Pov “Your fiancée.”I blink.Just that. Blink. Like that word didn’t just gut me like a blade in silk.I turn to the window.The trees blur past.My reflection stares back—lips parted like an idiot. Eyes wide like I didn’t already know men like him come wrapped in red flags and designer charm.He has a fiancée.And here I was — falling apart in dressing rooms, letting him pull the curtain closed like we were the only two people in the world.God.I press my palm to my chest, but the ache stays. Heavy. Sharp. Like guilt that doesn’t belong to me.So he has a fiancée… and still looked at me like that?Still bought me clothes, still watched me in mirrors, still leaned in like he wanted to kiss me stupid.What a jerk.A beautiful, controlled, maddening jerk.My throat burns, but I don’t let it show.I won’t give him the satisfaction.Not even a flinch.I cross my legs. “Sounds serious,” I say, voice too even — like I didn’t just feel something twist behind my ribs.He doesn’t ans