Chapter Three.

Tonia.”

  

  Her name slipped from my lips in surprise. She was standing in the living room like a ghost, so early in the morning that it made my heart skip. The court wedding wasn’t for another hour.

  

  Alexander had introduced her as his only sister. Seeing her here so soon had warmed me, made me believe I was stepping into a family that already loved me.

  

  Or so I thought.

  

  “The bride-to-be,” Tonia said with a dazzling smile, pulling me into a soft embrace. Her perfume lingered in the air—a sweet, misty fragrance.

  

  And that dres, she looked breathtaking. For a fleeting second, I thought she could have been the bride instead of me. Her hair was twisted into a loose bun, tendrils framing her face like whispers, her makeup perfectly melting into her glowing skin. Everything about her screamed elegance.

  

  “You and Alex are more excited than the bride,” I teased, laughing lightly.

  

  “Of course. I can’t wait to be an aunt,” she replied with a playful wink, and we both laughed.

  

  Tonia did my makeup herself, her hands steady, and touch calm. She helped me into my Cinderella-white dress and nude heels, and when Alex walked in, his eyes devoured me slowly.

  

  “Perfect,” he murmured, kissing my forehead before we left for the registry.

  

  When it was time to exchange vows, the room fell silent except for the steady pounding of my heart.

  

  Alexander’s hands were warm, his eyes locked on mine like a promise he’d never break.

  

  “Do you take Sofia Grant to be your wedded wife, to love her, comfort her, honor her, and keep her, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?” the clerk asked.

  

  “I, Alexander Grey, take you, Sofia Grant, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, to love and to cherish, from this day forward,” he said, his voice smooth, his words flawless. As if he was born to say them.

  

  Next was me—the naive girl who thought love was enough.

  

  “I, Sofia Grant, take you, Alexander Grey, to be my husband. I promise to love you and care for you all our days, to stand by you when you need strength and turn to you when I need shelter. I choose you, Alex, as the one I’ll spend my life with.”

  

  I had been in several relationships with prominent figures, but with him, it was different.

  

  For a while, everything felt perfect. Alex sent me roses without reason, planned surprise date nights, and whispered the kind of words that made every scar inside me heal.

  

  I was used to the paparazzi from men going to the extreme for me, but there was no connection. They were almost too perfect.

  

  My rule was, hit once and leave, if I allowed you to hit twice then I liked you.

  

  “Baby, you’re mine now,” Alexander murmurs, kissing the tip of my ear, whispering sweet loving.

  

  “I’d walk through hell for you.”

  

  Every message on my phone was a love letter—until I fell for him completely. Until I believed my inner child was safe with him.

  

  On the eve of my twenty-sixth birthday, an email arrived from Mrs. Clara.

  

  A polite request to come to her office with my husband.

  

  When I told Alex, I caught a flicker in his eyes—before I could name it. But he smiled, kissed my lips, and said, “We’ll go first thing in the morning.”

  

  And so we did.

  

  “Sofia, my darling,” Mrs. Clara greeted warmly, pulling me into a hug.

  

  Her office still looked the same, the United States flag on the right corner next to the bookshelf with thousands of books, a wooden table, numerous awards arranged on the table, a family portrait, and two seats facing her directly

  

  Alex stood behind me, tall and devastating in his tailored suit, the kind of man who could make an entire room turn its head.

  

  “I’ve been well, Mrs. Clara,” I said softly as we sat.

  

  Mrs Clara never liked Alexander, she ignored him. I did a lot of pleading to get her to be a witness at our wedding.

  

  She didn’t waste time. “Your father’s last will states that after one year of marriage, you will transfer everything in your possession to your husband.”

  

  I nodded. I knew. I had promised my father.

  

  Mrs. Clara slid the documents toward us. Alex’s hand brushed mine under the table, his thumb stroking gently, reassuring.

  

  “Baby, you don’t have to,” he murmured. “We can manage the company together.”

  

  I smiled at him, my chest swelling with love.

  

  “You’re my husband, Alex. This is my father’s last wish.”

  

  “I would still be in the company, as your wife not as your boss”.

  

  His lips curved into that heart-stopping smile. His eyes, warm and welcoming.

  

  He wasn’t always this man. He used to be the boy whose mother baked bread to survive. The boy who worked nine-to-five in an underpaid job.

  

  We lost touch after graduation. I went to the States for my master’s. And then, one day, I ran into him at the auction of our newly released jewelry.

  

  “Sofia Grant,” he had said, his voice a soft thunder. I didn’t recognize him at first—the cheap shorts, the faded T-shirt. The lowest staff in my father’s company dressed better than that.

  

  But those eyes… his brown, smoldering eyes. They could make any woman kneel without a touch.

  

  Alexander made it a habit to always come to the auction with a bouquet of roses and cause a scene till I noticed him.

  

  At first, he was thrown out, but later I always looked forward to seeing him hiding at a corner of the place, I looked forward to collecting the roses after a successful auction.

  

  Mrs. Clara excused us, leaving us to ourselves.

  

  The drive home was a blur of stolen kisses and whispered promises. Alex’s hand never left my thigh, tracing lazy circles that burned through the thin fabric of my dress. Every stoplight felt like a lifetime, and by the time we pulled into the driveway, my pulse was a drum inside my ears.

  

  The door had barely closed behind us when Alex spun me around, pressing me against the wall with a hunger that stole my breath. His lips crashed onto mine, devouring, demanding, making me feel like I was his oxygen.

  

  “Alex—” My protest melted into a gasp as his fingers slid under my dress, parting me with practiced ease.

  

  “Thank you, Sofia,” he growled against my ear, his teeth grazing the tender skin of my neck before his mouth claimed it in a bruising kiss.

  

  He pushed me onto the couch, and I didn’t resist. His tongue teased my nipples, one after the other, sending electric shocks straight to my core. I moaned his name as his fingers circled my clit, slow, deliberate strokes that made me arch off the cushions.

  

  “God, you’re so wet for me,” he whispered, sliding two fingers inside me, curling them just right. My hips jerked uncontrollably, my nails digging into his shoulders.

  

  And then he was inside me, hard and deep, thrusting with a rhythm that stole every coherent thought from my head. The sound of our bodies colliding filled the room—raw, desperate, perfect.

  

  “Alex—My bellybutton—” I choked out his name as he gripped my waist, pounding into me like a man possessed. Every thrust sent me higher, closer to the edge until I shattered around him, trembling in his arms.

  

  And then—

  

  Beep.

  

  The sharp tone of my phone cut through the haze. My head turned instinctively. The screen lit up, an image:

  

  “Look what I found”

  

  My breath froze. My body, still trembling from pleasure.