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73

Auteur: King Emerald
last update Dernière mise à jour: 2025-08-29 04:46:53

SOPHIA

The War inside.

I watched the file uploaded with my arms crossed and my jaw locked. Every click echoed like a match being struck. One after another. One after another.

Ricci’s secrets, all of them. Numbers. Hidden accounts. Deals are done in smoke-stained rooms. Transactions that didn’t smell like money—they stank like blood.

I didn’t blink. Not once.

Mike stood behind me. I felt the heat of his breath and the way his fingers twitched near his belt like he was itching to grab a gun instead of a keyboard. But this was cleaner. More devastating.

“Interpol’s gonna bury him,” he muttered.

I nodded. My throat was tight, like it was full of barbed wire. But I said it anyway.

“Good.”

He looked at me, like he was searching for the girl he used to know. I think she died a long time ago. Probably in that fire years back. The one nobody knew was set on purpose.

The screen pinged. Transfer complete. Data dumped. Just like that.

Project Lucifer was awake.

And it was hungry.

Mike walked out
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  • The Billionaire's Substitute Bride    120

    SOPHIA It had been three months since I remembered everything.It didn’t come back in a rush. It came in fragments. The scent of cigarette smoke on Ricci’s coat. The sound of my laugh echoed against the kitchen tiles in our mansion. The feeling of his hand sliding over mine in the dark....I hated myself for not remembering sooner.When the final piece fell into place, it wasn’t dramatic. It didn’t steal my breath or send me into a breakdown. It was quiet. Like unlocking a room inside myself I’d boarded up out of fear.Ricci didn’t say anything when he saw it happen. He just looked at me, waiting.And I whispered, “I remember, Ricci.”He didn’t move. Just one tear rolled down his cheek. One. And then he pulled me into his arms like he’d been holding his breath for years.Now, we were here.A quiet countryside villa outside Florence. No bodyguards. No board meetings. No whispers of Sara or Project Lucifer. The media had moved on. And Ricci… he had started breathing again. So had I.Tha

  • The Billionaire's Substitute Bride    119

    RICCI The storm hadn’t stopped since.It was still roaring outside, the thunder rolling low like a warning from some angry god, but none of that mattered. Not when she collapsed into my arms like that. “Sophia?! Sophia—look at me, please. Look at me—!” Her name tore from my mouth.She wasn’t answering. Her face was pale, and her breath was very shallow. Her body went limp against mine, and for a second—I swear—I thought I was losing her again. I had almost started crying tbh.I carried her. I didn’t care that my boots tracked mud across the hardwood or the carpet. I didn’t care that I could barely see straight through the panic fogging my vision. I just needed her somewhere safe... somewhere quiet.I laid her gently on the couch. Her mother followed behind. She was asking questions I couldn’t answer. And that made me more angry.... frustrated....tired? All of them...or none of them? I didn't know....I didn’t know what the hell just happened. I didn’t care about explanations. All I c

  • The Billionaire's Substitute Bride    118

    SOPHIA I tossed a towel at him and rolled my eyes, biting back a smile.Twenty minutes later, he returned—fresh, damp curls, cotton shirt hugging his arms. He kissed the top of her head before sitting down at the small dining table, picking up his fork.The food was plated perfectly. As if he hadn't eaten for days…he hurriedly took one bite.He froze.Then looked up, chewing slowly. “You… this is illegal.”I smirked, sipping from the wine. “That’s the sauce I nearly ruined, by the way.”“Tastes like heaven. Or maybe I’m just drunk on you,” he said.“To fire hazards and foreplay.”She tilted her glass toward him. “To you,” he murmured. “And every damn moment like this.”“ Sophia" I heard my name the first time—barely. I didn’t answer.“Sophia?”This time it came louder. Right after a loud clap of thunder that made the window panes tremble. I blinked, suddenly aware of the room around me again. The dining room. The smell of sauce in the air and the faint scent of mom's perfume. My ha

  • The Billionaire's Substitute Bride    117

    RICCI The scent of garlic and seared butter curled through the air like an invitation. I stood by the stove, apron tied lazily around my waist, stirring the Alfredo sauce with one hand while swaying a little to the soft jazz spilling from the speaker on the counter. It was one of those evenings that felt almost too quiet. The kind where the city pulsed beyond the window, but inside this house—our house—there was only warmth, flickering light, and the sound of something soft simmering.I had just reached for the pepper grinder when I heard the front door click open.Then… footsteps.“Bambina,” came his voice. Deep….Slightly hoarse. And a little tired.I didn’t turn around. “You’re late.”“Blame the board,” he said, his footsteps drawing closer, “and a thirty-minute call about something they could’ve emailed.”I heard the soft thud of his briefcase hitting the entryway bench, followed by the loosening of his tie. My heart beat just a little faster—stupidly so. Even now. Even after all

  • The Billionaire's Substitute Bride    116

    SOPHIA It was quiet downstairs—too quiet, honestly. After a few days of being cooped up in my room like some fragile doll, I needed to feel something again. Movement perhaps….or maybe sound. I didn't really know. Even if it was just the hum of the refrigerator or the clinking of plates.We were back in New York now. And strangely, everything felt both familiar and distant, like a dream I kept dipping in and out of.But Mom was right—I was starting to remember things.Still, I won't deny it. I missed Mabel. A lot more than I expected to.Little flashes were coming back gradually. I remembered working for Mike to bring down someone whom I couldn't remember. I didn't know why Matilda helped me a lot in remembering Isabella, and I also remembered I loved dandelions. The way the living room light slanted in from the window around this hour. It didn’t always last, but it came in stronger waves these days.I wandered into the living room and paused near the side table. There was a photo fra

  • The Billionaire's Substitute Bride    115

    MABEL It had just been two days since Vivienne took Sophia back to New York.Two slow, dragging days.She said she had a company to oversee—some fashion thing or luxury firm or whatever rich people do when they’re not breaking hearts—and that Sophia being in the city might jog her memory. I didn’t argue, but Lord knows I wanted to.I didn’t want her to go.Not because I thought I knew best—no. But because that girl had curled herself into my home, into my routine, into my life. There was something tender about the way she folded laundry or stirred her tea or stared at the ceiling like she was searching for someone who never came.You don't watch a girl like that walk away and feel whole again.But what could I do? Say no to Vivienne Williams? That woman could put ice in a volcano and still walk out with her hair done.So now the apartment was quiet again. Not empty, but quieter in the saddest way. And here I was, on a Saturday, wiping down the same wooden table for the third time bec

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