002

Sofia’s P.O.V

My phone was scarred for life; cracks were at every nook and cranny.

I held it in my hand, trying to call Lucia over and over again but I was still blocked.

I ended up giving up but my worries didn’t end there. The dress I had on was pinching at my skin.

It hugged my body which felt extremely weird but it was even weirded that I was in a car with my parents, sitting by side. I made sure my body didn’t touch theirs.

I pressed against the door so much I was practically almost fusing with the door. My eyes were now focused on the road, watching as cars went by then at some point, the cars were replaced by trees that dashed by.

The car was faster now as if he had a deadline. We arrived at a gate soon.

One of the gatemen walked up to the driver, gripping the half-wind window. He dipped his head into the car and canned the driver for a minute.

“Mr. Roman’s guests,” the driver pointed out before the gateman could ask.

The gateman stretched his neck into the car a bit to glance at our faces before he pulled away. He held a gun with one hand so he held up his free hand to signal someone.

Seconds later, the gates parted and gave way. The driver began driving while the gateman watched us before we disappeared into the estate. The driver stopped at the front door.

My father grabbed my hand. I turned to face him.

“Do not let anyone find out what happened. You can introduce yourself as Sofia, we just told them we had a daughter but we didn’t inform them about her.”

I nodded.

“Pretend,” was the only other word my father could say before the door got pulled open. He retraced his hand then slipped open.

I reached for the door handle beside me, pushed the door open and climbed down. I had to turn around the car before I met them. I stood few inches apart, trying to not make the gap between us too noticeable.

An older man stood with a wide smile. His eyes lightened up when he saw me. He held out his hand and I took it.

He shook me with one hand while the other was placed above it.

“I haven’t heard much about you, only that you’re gorgeous and it seems they were right,” he laughed.

My parents laughed alongside him, their tone shaky, high pitched and so obviously fake.

“I would love to get to know more about you, after all you’ll be family soon”.

My father laughed. “Yes, she will”.

He tried to feign excitement which made me cringe.

The man before me let go of my hand. “I am Julius Falcone and you’ll be married to my son Roman Falcone who is currently inside.”

I nodded slowly.

He was Julius Falcone? He didn’t look so terrible or ruthless.

I would have assumed my parents were lying if I hadn’t seen their reaction at home for myself. My father barely got scared but at the sound of this man’s name, he trembled.

My breath hitched.

What was his son going to do to me?

No. He’d take care of me. My parents had signed a contract with them to take care of Lucia so I’ll be safe. Hopefully.

“Come. Come. Let’s go inside, you must be so hot out here,” he urged, running and walking towards the front door.

We followed.

I tagged behind my parents, slowly but just quick enough to not lose track of them.

The Falcone estate was unnaturally quiet.

Not peaceful quiet.

The kind of silence expensive houses had. Heavy silence. Controlled silence. The silence of people trained not to ask questions.

Everything inside screamed money.

Tall glass windows.

Black marble floors.

Paintings that probably cost more than everything I owned.

And somewhere upstairs, footsteps echoed faintly.

No wonder my parents wanted to send Lucia here.

Money and no love is a great bargain because what we were going to have wasn’t even a real relationship.

It was a merger disguised as a marriage.

Their families needed financial stability. Roman Falcone needed a respectable fiancée after weeks of media scandals which I heard the maids talk about on our way in. Everybody won.

Except maybe the people getting married.

A woman entered carrying a silver tray with tea.

“Mr. Falcone will be down shortly,” she said politely.

My father immediately straightened his tie.

Of course, he did.

People acted weird around billionaires.

Then—

A loud crash echoed upstairs.

Everyone froze.

Not ordinary dropping-something noise.

More like glass shattering.

Followed by shouting.

“You can’t do this to me!”

A woman’s voice.

Angry. Emotional.

Mr. Julius Falcone who was unfazed walked into the living room and took our seats.

The house staff looked alarmingly unsurprised.

Roman appeared at the top of the staircase.

Black dress shirt.

Sleeves rolled halfway up.

Expression hard enough to cut glass.

Even from downstairs, his presence filled the room too easily. Like the house itself adjusted around him.

Behind him stood a woman.

Beautiful.

Furious.

Blonde hair slightly messy, eyes red like she’d been crying.

Vanessa.

I noticed immediately how close she stood to him.

Too close.

“You’re seriously doing this?” Vanessa snapped, following him downstairs. “You’re actually replacing me?”

Roman didn’t answer.

That silence clearly made her angrier.

Then his eyes landed on me.

For half a second, something flickered across his face.

Calculation.

Assessment.

Gone instantly.

It took Vanessa a minute to notice everyone fully.

Then her eyes landed directly on me.

The room changed immediately.

“Oh,” Vanessa laughed softly. “So this is her.”

Nobody spoke.

Vanessa walked closer slowly, eyes scanning me from head to toe.

Not jealousy exactly.

More like disbelief.

“She looks terrible,” Vanessa muttered.

“Vanessa,” Roman warned quietly.

“What?” She turned sharply toward him. “You want me to pretend this isn’t humiliating?”

I suddenly felt deeply uncomfortable.

Like I had accidentally walked into the middle of someone else’s breakup.

A thick envelope sat on the coffee table in front of her.

The contract.

Confidentiality agreements.

Engagement terms.

Everything about this arrangement suddenly felt colder.

Vanessa noticed the papers too.

And laughed again.

“Oh my God.” She looked at me with almost pity now. “You haven’t signed yet?”

I frowned slightly.

Vanessa stepped closer.

“You should read the part where he owns your image for the duration of the engagement,” she said casually. “That part’s fun.”

Roman patience visibly thinned.

“Leave.”

“No.”

I finally stood.

“Maybe I should—”

Vanessa turned toward me instantly.

“You should run.”

Silence.

I blinked slowly. “Excuse me?”

Vanessa moved closer now, voice lowering.

“You think this is a fairytale?” she asked. “You think marrying him means romance and luxury? Roman doesn’t love people. He controls them.”

Roman’s expression darkened dangerously.

“That’s enough.”

“No, let her hear it!” Vanessa snapped. “Tell her how you threw me away the second the media started talking. Tell her this marriage is just damage control.”

I looked toward Roman.

And the worst part?

He didn’t deny it.

That hurt more than it should have but what should I expect?

Vanessa saw the realization cross her face and smiled bitterly.

“There it is,” she whispered. “Now you understand.”

Then suddenly Vanessa grabbed the contract off the table.

The papers scattered across the floor.

“Vanessa—”

“She deserves the truth!”

I instinctively bent to grab the papers, but Vanessa shoved my shoulder in frustration.

Not violently.

But enough.

Enough for my heel to slip slightly against the marble.

Enough for Roman to move instantly.

His hand caught my arm before I fell.

Fast.

The room went still.

And for the first time since coming downstairs, Roman looked genuinely furious.

Not cold. Not controlling.

Furious.

“Do not touch her,” he said quietly.

Vanessa stared at him like he’d slapped her.

“Oh,” she whispered shakily. “So now you care?”

Roman groaned.

He didn’t but why was he doing this?

Vanessa laughed bitterly, eyes glossy now.

“You’re unbelievable.”

Then she looked at me one last time.

“Don’t fall in love with him,” she said softly. “He’ll let you.”

And somehow that sounded worse than a threat.

Vanessa stormed out moments later, heels echoing through the mansion until the front doors slammed shut.

Silence filled the room again.

My parents looked horrified.

The contracts still lay scattered across the marble floor.

Roman finally looked at her directly.

Calm as if none of that had happened.

“You should read page six carefully before signing,” he said evenly.

She stared at him in disbelief.

Then let out a short, breathless laugh.

Because this man truly might have been emotionally deranged.

“Now, let’s begin,” Mr. Julius suggested but his son was still holding onto me. “Roman, behave”.

Finally, he returned to his sit while the maids rushed to pick the papers.

“Come,” he urged.

My legs were frozen or I would have stepped closer even when he wasn’t speaking to me.

A man who stood on the hallway rushed to him.

Roman handed the gun to the man before stepping back, turning and heading into the living room.

I released a breath not because I was relieved but because I was holding it in for way too long.

My parents followed from behind while I just stood, trying to understand what I had put myself into.

No wonder, Lucia ran away.

This is who Roman is.