Chapter 14

The call came at seven in the morning, three days after the engagement party. Sophia was just getting ready for work when Ethan's phone rang, Harrison's name flashing on the screen with an urgency that made her stomach clench.

"This can't be good," Ethan muttered, answering on the third ring. "Harrison, what's"

Even from across the room, Sophia could hear the older man's voice, sharp with anger. She couldn't make out the words, but the tone was unmistakable. Ethan's face went pale, then flushed red as he listened.

"I'll be right there," he said finally, ending the call.

"What's wrong?"

"There's been a story. About us. About you, specifically." His jaw was tight as he reached for his jacket. "Harrison wants to see me immediately."

"What kind of story?"

"I don't know yet. But from the sound of it, it's not good."

Sophia's hands shook as she pulled up the Manhattan Today website on her phone. It took her a moment to find it, but when she did, her heart sank.

**"Food Stamps to Fifth Avenue: The Real Story Behind Ethan Blackwell's Surprise Engagement"**

The headline was accompanied by a photo of her from high school awkward, young, wearing a thrift store dress at what looked like a school dance. Below it was a more recent photo, clearly taken without her knowledge, of her entering the social services building where she worked.

"Oh God," she whispered, scanning the article. "Ethan, they know everything."

He was beside her in an instant, reading over her shoulder. The story was thorough and cruel, detailing her family's financial struggles when she was growing up, her father's brief unemployment, the times they'd needed assistance. It painted a picture of someone who'd clawed her way up from poverty, only to land herself a rich fiancé.

"Sources close to the family confirm that Martinez grew up in a working-class household in Queens, where her family occasionally relied on government assistance," the article read. "Her sudden engagement to billionaire Ethan Blackwell has raised eyebrows in Manhattan's elite circles, with many questioning whether this is a genuine love story or a calculated social climb."

"This is..." Sophia couldn't finish the sentence. She felt exposed, violated, like someone had stripped away her dignity and put it on display for the world to judge.

"This is bullshit," Ethan said, his voice tight with fury. "Complete and total bullshit."

"But it's not wrong. My family did struggle. We did need help sometimes."

"So what? So did millions of other families. That doesn't make you less worthy of love or respect."

"Try telling that to Margaret Ashford's circle."

Ethan's phone buzzed with a text. Then another. Then a stream of them, so fast that the notification sound became a constant chirping.

"I have to go," he said, grabbing his keys. "I have to deal with this before it gets worse."

"I'm coming with you."

"Sophia, no. Harrison is furious, and I don't want you to have to face that right now."

"If this is about me, then I should be there."

"This isn't about you. This is about them trying to tear us apart because they can't stand the idea that love might matter more than lineage."

"But"

"Please. Let me handle this. I'll call you as soon as I can."

He kissed her quickly, fiercely, then was gone, leaving Sophia alone with her phone and the devastating article that had just upended their carefully constructed world.

She called in sick to work there was no way she could face her colleagues, her clients, knowing that her private life was being dissected in the press. Instead, she spent the morning pacing Ethan's penthouse, watching the story spread across social media, reading the comments that ranged from supportive to vicious.

"Gold digger," one read. "She hit the jackpot with this one."

"Good for her," said another. "If I could marry a billionaire, I'd do it too."

"This is what happens when old money tries to mix with new money. Disaster."

By noon, she'd received seventeen calls from reporters, forty-three friend requests on social media from people she'd never met, and three job offers from reality TV shows. Her phone was buzzing constantly, and she finally turned it off, unable to handle the constant invasion.

That's when the building's concierge called on the landline.

"Ms. Martinez? There are several reporters in the lobby asking to speak with you. Should I send them away?"

"Yes, please. And please don't let anyone up unless they're on the approved list."

"Of course, ma'am. Also, you should know that there are photographers outside the building. You might want to avoid the main entrance if you need to leave."

Sophia felt trapped, caged in the penthouse that had started to feel like home but now felt like a prison. She tried to distract herself by working on the foundation plans she and Ethan had sketched out, but she couldn't concentrate. Every time she looked at their notes about helping families in crisis, she thought about how her own family's crisis was now public entertainment.

Her phone, when she finally turned it back on, had a voicemail from her mother.

"Mija, I saw the news. Are you okay? Your father is furious not at you, at them. These people have no shame. Call me when you can. Te amo."

There was also a text from her best friend Maria: "Saw the article. What the hell? Are you okay? Do you need me to come over and punch some reporters?"

And dozens of messages from numbers she didn't recognize, ranging from cruel to sympathetic to downright creepy.

But nothing from Ethan.

It was almost three o'clock when she finally heard from him, and the conversation was brief.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice tired. "This is taking longer than I thought. Harrison is... he's not handling this well."

"How not well?"

"He's talking about damage control. About how this reflects on the family name."

"And what did you tell him?"

"I told him that you are family. That anyone who has a problem with your background has a problem with me."

"How did that go over?"

"About as well as you'd expect. I'll be home as soon as I can. Don't leave the building, okay? The media circus is intense right now."

"I noticed. Ethan, I'm so sorry about this. I never wanted to bring this kind of attention to you."

"This isn't your fault. This is the work of people who have nothing better to do than tear others down."

"But"

"No buts. I love you, Sophia. I love where you came from, what you've overcome, who you've become. This doesn't change anything."

"It changes everything."

"Not for me it doesn't."

After he hung up, Sophia sat in the living room, staring out at the city that suddenly felt hostile. She'd grown up here, had always loved the energy and diversity of New York, but now she felt like an outsider, someone who'd been exposed as not belonging.

Her phone rang again. This time it was her father.

"Sophia? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Papi. Just... embarrassed."

"Embarrassed? Of what? Of our family? Of where you came from?"

"No, of course not. But seeing it all laid out like that, like we were some kind of charity case..."

"We were never a charity case. We were a family that hit a rough patch and got back on our feet. There's no shame in that."

"Tell that to the people commenting on the article."

"Those people don't matter. You know what matters? The work you do. The people you help. The man you love. Everything else is just noise."

"It's loud noise, Papi."

"Then turn down the volume. Don't let them make you ashamed of who you are."

"I'm not ashamed. I'm just... I'm scared. What if this ruins everything? What if Ethan decides I'm not worth the trouble?"

"Then he's not the man I think he is. But from what you've told me, he's not going anywhere."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because real love doesn't run at the first sign of trouble. And if he loves you the way you deserve to be loved, this will just make him fight harder for you."

After talking to her father, Sophia felt somewhat steadier. But the afternoon stretched on without word from Ethan, and she began to worry. How bad was this meeting with Harrison? What kind of damage control were they discussing?

At five o'clock, she made a decision. She couldn't just sit in the penthouse waiting. She needed to do something, to reclaim some sense of agency in her own life.

She called Maria.

"I need to get out of here," she said. "Can you meet me somewhere? Somewhere without reporters?"

"Of course. There's a little café in Brooklyn, near my apartment. Very low key. Think you can make it there without being followed?"

"I'll figure it out."

Getting out of the building proved to be an adventure in itself. The concierge helped her exit through the service entrance, and she took three different subway lines to throw off anyone who might be following her. By the time she reached the café in Park Slope, she was exhausted but felt like she'd accomplished something.

Maria was waiting in a corner booth, her face creased with worry.

"Jesus, Sophia. You look like hell."

"I feel like hell."

"Want to talk about it?"

"I don't know where to start."

"Start with whether you're okay. Really okay."

Sophia considered the question. "I don't know. This morning I was planning a foundation with the man I love. Now I'm hiding from reporters and wondering if I've destroyed his life."

"Have you talked to him?"

"Briefly. He's been in meetings all day with Harrison, dealing with the fallout."

"And?"

"And I don't know. He says it doesn't change anything, but how can it not? I've brought scandal to his family, embarrassment to his business."

"You've brought reality to his privileged world. There's a difference."

"Is there? Because right now it feels like I'm the poor girl who got caught reaching above her station."

Maria leaned forward, her expression serious. "Listen to me. You are not reaching above your station. You are not some gold digger who got lucky. You are a brilliant, accomplished woman who happens to have fallen in love with a man who has money. The order of those things matters."

"Try telling that to the comment section."

"Screw the comment section. Those people don't know you. They don't know your heart, your work, your character. They're just jealous and bitter and looking for someone to tear down."

"But what if they're right? What if I am just a social climber who got in over her head?"

"Are you?"

"No. God, no. I love him, Maria. I love him so much it scares me sometimes."

"Then that's all that matters. Everything else is just noise."

"That's what my father said."

"Smart man. So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know. Wait for Ethan to come home, I guess. See what Harrison has demanded as his pound of flesh."

"And if Harrison demands that Ethan choose between you and his business?"

"Then I'll make the choice for him."

"Sophia"

"I won't let him throw away everything he's built for me. I won't be responsible for destroying his life."

"What if he wants to throw it away? What if he decides that a life with you is worth more than Harrison's approval?"

"Then he's an idiot."

"Or he's in love."

They sat in silence for a moment, sipping their coffee and watching the evening crowd flow past the windows. Normal people, living normal lives, unaware that their world was filled with the kind of drama that had consumed Sophia's day.

"Can I ask you something?" Maria said finally.

"Sure."

"Do you regret it? Getting involved with him?"

Sophia thought about it really thought about it. The past few months had been the most complicated of her life, but also the most meaningful. She'd found love, purpose, a partner who challenged her and supported her and made her want to be better.

"No," she said finally. "I don't regret it. Even with all this mess, even with the reporters and the judgment and the fear, I don't regret loving him."

"Then fight for it. Don't let them drive you away. Don't let them win."

"And if the cost is too high?"

"Then you'll pay it. But don't assume it's too high before you know what the price actually is."

When Sophia finally made it back to the penthouse, using the same circuitous route, it was almost nine o'clock. Ethan was waiting for her, pacing the living room with the restless energy of a caged animal.

"Where were you?" he asked, relief evident in his voice. "I've been calling you for hours."

"I turned my phone off. I needed to get out, to think."

"It's not safe out there. The media"

"I know. I managed to avoid them."

"Sophia, we need to talk."

The words sent a chill through her. "That sounds ominous."

"It's complicated."

"How complicated?"

He ran his hands through his hair, looking older than she'd ever seen him. "Harrison is... he's not happy. About the article, about the attention, about what this means for the family reputation."

"And what does he want to do about it?"

"He wants us to take a break. To let things cool down. To give the media time to find another story."

"A break?"

"A temporary separation. Just until this blows over."

Sophia felt like she'd been punched in the stomach. "And you agreed to this?"

"I told him I'd discuss it with you."

"What's to discuss? Either you want to be with me or you don't."

"Of course I want to be with you. But I also have to consider what's best for both of us. This attention, this scrutiny it's not fair to you."

"Let me decide what's fair to me."

"Sophia"

"No, Ethan. Don't you dare make this decision for me. Don't you dare decide that I can't handle the pressure or that I'm not worth the trouble."

"That's not what I'm saying."

"Then what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that maybe Harrison is right. Maybe we moved too fast, pushed too hard. Maybe we need to step back and figure out how to do this right."

"How to do what right? Love each other? Because that's the only thing that matters here."

"It's not that simple."

"It is that simple. You either love me enough to fight for us, or you don't."

"I love you enough to protect you."

"I don't need protection. I need a partner. I need someone who stands beside me when things get tough, not someone who runs away at the first sign of trouble."

"I'm not running away."

"Then what would you call it?"

The question hung between them, heavy with implications. Sophia could see the war playing out in Ethan's eyes his love for her battling against years of conditioning, his desire to protect her fighting with his need to maintain his position in a world that had never fully accepted him either.

"I don't know," he said finally. "I honestly don't know."

"Then figure it out," she said quietly. "Because I'm not going anywhere. I'm not hiding from reporters or pretending to be someone I'm not or letting anyone make me ashamed of where I came from. If that's too much for you to handle, then maybe we really do need to take a break."

"Sophia"

"No, I'm serious. I love you, Ethan. I love you more than I've ever loved anyone. But I won't sacrifice who I am to make your life easier. If you want to be with me, it has to be all of me the social worker from Queens whose family struggled, who knows what it's like to need help, who isn't impressed by wealth or status or society parties."

"I know who you are."

"Do you? Because right now it feels like you're seeing me the way they see me as a liability, as someone who needs to be managed or hidden or fixed."

"That's not true."

"Then prove it. Stand up to Harrison. Tell him that you're not taking a break, that you're not ashamed of me or where I come from. Tell him that if he can't accept me, then he can't have you."

"And if he chooses to cut ties? If he decides that my loyalty to you is more important than my loyalty to him?"

"Then you'll know where you really stand. And so will I."

The silence stretched between them, filled with the weight of ultimatums and the fear of losing everything. Sophia could see that she was asking him to choose between two worlds, two versions of himself, two different definitions of success and happiness.

"I need time to think," he said finally.

"How much time?"

"I don't know. A few days, maybe. Just to figure out how to handle this without destroying everything we've both worked for."

"And what am I supposed to do during these few days? Sit here and wait for you to decide if I'm worth the trouble?"

"That's not what this is about."

"Then what is it about?"

"It's about finding a way to be together without losing ourselves in the process."

"I haven't lost myself, Ethan. Have you?"

The question hit its mark. She could see it in his face, the recognition that somewhere along the way, he'd started to doubt not just their relationship, but himself.

"Maybe," he said quietly. "Maybe I have."

"Then find yourself. But don't expect me to wait around while you figure out who you want to be."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that if you want to take a break, we're taking a break. Really taking a break. No calls, no texts, no checking in. You figure out what you want, and I'll figure out what I need."

"Sophia"

"I'm going to pack a bag. I'll stay at Maria's for a while. When you decide what matters more Harrison's approval or our love you know where to find me."

As she walked toward the bedroom, she heard him say her name, but she didn't turn around. She couldn't. Because if she looked at him, if she saw the pain in his eyes that she knew was there, she might change her mind. And right now, changing her mind would mean accepting less than she deserved.

The break wasn't what she wanted. But maybe it was what they both needed a chance to figure out who they were when they weren't performing for the world, when they weren't caught up in the drama of society pages and family expectations.

Maybe it was time to find out if their love was strong enough to survive the real world, or if it was just another casualty of the gap between their two worlds.

Only time would tell.