CHAPTER 3: A WOMAN'S VOICE

“Smile for the cameras, Sofia. Make them believe we are the perfect couple. That is the only currency that matters tonight.”

The limousine stops outside the hotel. Daniel does not step out immediately. He adjusts his cuffs in the small mirror on the partition. He speaks without looking at her, like he is reciting a script he has used many times before.

Sofia checks her dress one last time. She chose a simple design in deep blue, nothing too flashy but elegant enough to stand beside him. She takes a slow breath in and lets it out, trying to steady the nervous flutter in her chest.

“I know the rules, Daniel. Stop making me look stupid,” she flatly. “Stand close. Smile when they speak. Stay quiet when they ask business questions. Leave the rest to you.”

"I am good at memorization."

Daniel finally turns his head to look at her. His expression is neutral, but his eyes linger on her face for a moment longer than necessary. He gives a short, sharp nod of approval.

“Exactly,” he says. “And remember this: if anyone asks about our relationship, keep it generic. Talk about family values and shared goals. Do not say anything personal. Do not sound like you are reciting a contract.”

“I can do that,” Sofia says.

“Good,” he says. He opens the car door and steps out first. He reaches back inside for her hand. “Now come. They are waiting.”

She places her hand in his. His grip is obviously too practiced. He does not squeeze it gently or brush his thumb over her knuckles like a real husband might. He holds her hand the way one holds a prop.

Flashlights go off the moment they step onto the red carpet. Reporters call out their names. Cameras click from every direction.

Daniel guides her forward with his hand at her elbow, moving slowly but with purpose. He answers questions smoothly, deflecting personal inquiries with polite ease.

When they are inside the ballroom, he does not let go of her arm right away. He leans in close, his voice near her ear so only she can hear.

“Stay within sight,” he says. “Do not wander off alone. If you need to leave the room, tell me first or take security with you. There are people here who will try to use you to get to me.”

“Are they dangerous?” she asks quietly.

“Some are ruthless,” he says. “Most are just hungry for information. Either way, do not trust anyone completely tonight. Not even the people who smile the nicest.”

He leads her toward a group of men standing near the center of the room. Daniel introduces her by her full name and as his wife. He does not add any personal compliment or affectionate phrase.

One of the men, a rival businessman named Victor, smirks and looks at Daniel before turning his gaze to Sofia. His eyes travel over her slowly, lacking any respect.

“So this is the lucky lady,” Victor says. “Or should I say… the convenient one? How much did she cost you, Gray? Or did you just pay off the father and get the wife for free?”

Sofia feels heat rise up her neck. Before she can speak, Daniel steps slightly in front of her. His voice drops, calm but cold enough to make the air around them feel different.

“You will watch your mouth,” Daniel says. “She is my wife. You will address her with respect or you will not address her at all. Do I make myself clear?”

Victor holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Easy. I was just asking a question. Everyone knows the deal was business. No need to pretend otherwise.”

“The deal was private,” Daniel says. “My marriage is not up for discussion. Now step aside or I will have security escort you out.”

Victor laughs but he moves back. “Fine. Have it your way. But don’t be surprised when the story gets out. People talk, Daniel. And secrets have a way of finding their way to the light.”

Daniel does not reply. He guides Sofia away from the group toward the far side of the room. He does not let go of her arm until they are standing near the terrace doors where it is quieter.

“Are you all right?” he asks. The question comes out short, almost gruff, like he is annoyed he even asked.

“I am fine,” Sofia says. “I can handle rude people. I just did not expect you to defend me like that.”

Daniel looks away for a moment, out toward the city lights visible through the glass doors. He does not answer immediately. When he speaks, his voice is quieter, stripped of its public edge.

“I did not defend you because I like you,” he says, looking around. “I defended you because an insult to my wife is an insult to me. It is about reputation. Nothing more. Do not read too much into it.”

Sofia nods. She tells herself that is exactly what it is. But her chest still feels light, almost hopeful, despite what he said. She wishes he had not added the last part. She wishes he had let her believe, just for one moment, that he cared even a little bit.

“I understand,” she says.

They spend the next two hours moving through the room together. Daniel introduces her to partners and investors. He includes her in conversations, asks her opinion on charitable causes, and makes sure she is never left standing alone. He plays the part perfectly, so perfectly that sometimes even she forgets it is...acting.

Around eleven o’clock, he tells her they can leave. He leads her toward the exit, his hand resting on her back just enough for anyone watching to see it. They walk out to the car together without stopping for anyone else.

The ride back to the penthouse is quiet for the first ten minutes. Daniel leans his head back against the seat and closes his eyes. He looks tired, lines of stress visible around his eyes that he hides so well in public.

“Why did you do it?” Sofia asks suddenly. “Back there, with Victor. You could have just laughed it off or ignored him. You did not have to be that sharp.”

Daniel opens his eyes. He looks at her in the dim light of the car interior. His expression is unreadable again, guarded and distant as it was in the office that first day.

“I told you,” he says. “It was about respect for the position you hold as my wife. That is all.”

“I see,” she says. She looks out the window at the passing streetlights. “Well… thank you anyway. It felt nice not to be invisible for a little while.”

Daniel does not answer. He closes his eyes again and turns his face toward the other side of the car. The conversation ends there.

When they arrive back at the penthouse, they walk inside together. The space is quiet and dimly lit, just as they left it. Daniel loosens his tie and walks toward the kitchen.

“Would you like tea?” he asks, his back to her. “I am making some. It will help with the stress of the evening.”

Sofia is surprised by the offer. She hesitates before answering. “Yes. Thank you. That would be nice.”

He prepares two cups and brings them to the dining table. They sit across from each other again, just like they did the first night. The steam rises between them.

“You did well tonight,” he says quietly. “You were composed. You knew when to speak and when to stay quiet. You did not embarrass me.”

“Is that a compliment?” she asks with a small, cautious smile.

Daniel looks at her. The corner of his mouth lifts just barely, so faintly she might have imagined it. “It is an observation. Take it however you like.”

They finish their tea without much more talking. When they are done, he stands up and collects both cups. He carries them to the kitchen while she walks toward the hallway leading to their suites.

“Goodnight, Sofia,” he calls out before she turns the corner.

“Goodnight, Daniel,” she replies.

She enters her suite and closes the door. She leans against it for a moment, her heart beating a little faster than it should. She tells herself to be careful. She tells herself that small kindnesses are not the same as feelings.

She changes into comfortable clothes and sits on the edge of the bed. She picks up her phone to check the time. There is one new message from an unknown number again. Her stomach tightens as she opens it.

“He played you beautifully tonight. Did you see how he looked at you? That was practice. He looks at her that way every single day. Do not fall for the performance.”

Sofia stares at the words. She reads them again and again. She thinks about the way Daniel touched her hand, the way he defended her, the faint smile he gave her at the table. She thinks about the locked door in the hallway and the hushed phone calls late at night.

She stands up and walks quietly to her door. She opens it just a crack and looks down the hallway toward his suite. His light is still on. She sees his shadow move past the gap under the door. Then she hears a woman’s voice, soft and low, drifting through the wood from his room.

If the rules were strictly business and nothing more, then who was the woman speaking to him at midnight in the part of the home that was supposed to be theirs?