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Sofia's POV
"We have got a situation Sofia," I heard my father's voice echo as I stepped into his office, halting me in my tracks.
"I'm sure you've been well aware of everything that's been happening, haven't you?" He asked and I nodded, turning my attention to the man seated on one of the leather chairs in his office.
"I'm talking to you Sofia! This isn't the time to zone out," My father snapped, pulling my gaze back at him.
"Yes Papa, I'm sorry, I — I was just..."
"Enough," He said, stepping closer.
“That is Micheal Holmes, he's the one who'll be helping us out," my father explained, and I nodded with a smile, happy that the whole mess of the fire was finally coming to an end.
"She's a good one, James, she's perfect," Micheal Holmes said and I turned back to my father, unsure of the meaning of his words.
"What is he talking about papa?" I asked, stepping closer to my father.
"He agreed to help us under a condition," My father added, and I nodded, gulping nervously at the supposed condition.
"You've to marry my son Alex Holmes," the man said, and I darted a questioning look at my father. "This is a joke yeah? I mean that cannot even possibly happen," I blurted almost immediately.
"It is not a joke Sofia, that's the condition," My father added, stilling the forced laugh in my lips.
"A—wait...you cannot be serious about this," I said, turning to the faces in the room, but they stared deadpanned back at me.
"Get ready to sign the marriage certificate, we'll finalize it and once it's done and you will move to your husband's house," my father said, walking away from where he stood to meet Micheal.
"Father!" I yelled, feeling tears brim in my eyes. "You really want to pimp me out to these men? For what? Drugs? Money? Do you even..."
"Do you want me dead instead? Have those men I'm owning come after you and me? Aren't you happy with this beautiful life and heaven I've built for you Sofia?" My father retorted, forcing a bitter laugh from my lips.
"And you think, I ever cared about those men? You were the one who saw nothing else to do but sell drugs! How many fucking times did I warn you, Father, to find something else to do, you ruined fucking half of the lives of the people in this city!"
Pak!
My head spun from the intensity of my father hitting my face.
"I'm done with words Sofia, and just before you wag that mouth of yours, I want you to know that I brought you up with the money of those fucking drugs you claim to have taken the life of many, you are what you are now Sofia, because of those drugs! So now you do nothing but keep your mouth shut and sign the paper that'll be brought to you," My father said, motioning to the man beside him to head outside.
"Do you even know what day it is Dad?" I asked, stilling him in his steps.
"I don't care whatever day it is Sofia, I'm not going to be moved by anything you say, this deal must go on."
"It's my birthday Dad.." I whispered, the words trembling as they escaped me. My voice broke rising into a desperate yell.
"Today is my birthday Dad!" I yelled, sniffing in the tears that dripped down my eyes, with my chest heaving heavily to the strong weight of my emotions.
"It's bad enough that you didn't even remember my birthday, you're forcing me to get married to a man I know nothing about Dad..."
"Happy birthday Sofia," My father said, cutting in on my words. "Really?" I scoffed.
"Happy birthday? To me? It's a god-damned sad birthday, there's no fuckin happy thing about this birthday, it's the worst birthday of my life," I blurted, feeling the room spin, ripping air from my lungs, leaving me gasping heavily.
"I'm just twenty, just twenty Dad!" I yelled, feeling my head cloud inexplicably.
"Th- this isn't supposed to happen... please don't do this...to me," I begged until I felt my knees buckle and I collapsed onto the cold floor of my father's office. Pressing my palms flat against the floor, I tried to get back up but my strength failed, sending me back to the floor.
"Get up from the floor, Sofia," my father barked, standing over me, his expression cold and unyielding as steel. I couldn’t. My breath hitched, sharp, and shallow, each attempt to inhale leaving me feeling like I was drowning. My chest tightened, a crushing weight pressing down, and my trembling hands instinctively clutched at my chest.
"Papa..." I choked out, my voice barely a whisper, as if the words themselves struggled to break free from the suffocating hold on my lungs.
"Sofia," my father repeated, his tone sharp, but I couldn’t focus on his words. My vision blurred, tears mixing with the sweat slicking my face. My hands reached out, clawing at the air as though grasping for something—anything—to pull me back.
"Please... stop..." I rasped, the words broken, barely audible, but laced with every ounce of desperation I had left. My arms trembled, and I tried to lift myself, my fingers splayed against the ground, but my body refused to obey.
"You think this changes anything? His voice was sharp, but for a brief moment, I thought I could feel a flicker— a hesitation— in his voice.
His eyes darted away for a fraction of a second, just long enough for doubts to creep into my chest. But then his expression hardened like a mask snapping into place.
"Pretending with things like this is not going to undo the deal I've made with Micheal," he added, his tone much colder now as if he were convincing himself as much as me.
My lips parted as I tried to respond, but no sound came. The air refused to return to my lungs, and I sank further, my head resting against the floor as darkness began to creep into the edges of my vision.
"Someone get her up," my father ordered, his voice echoing faintly, as if from a great distance. The weight in my chest tightened further, and the echo of his retreating footsteps as he walked away from me, distant and indifferent, as if I was nothing more than a burden he couldn't wait to get rid of. My breath got thicker and darkness filled the room.
Sophia’s POV I never imagined my life would end here—here, in this big mansion, with gentle light spilling through the curtains and soft music humming in the background. Peace always felt like a rumor, something that existed for other people, softer people, luckier people. Not someone like me. Not someone who crawled out of the fire with half her heart burned and the other half shaking.But tonight, as I sit here, hand resting on the gentle curve of my stomach, I finally realize something I never believed before:Peace was waiting for me. I just had to survive long enough to reach it. The rain outside whispered against the windows, steady, soft, safe. The world feels calmer than it ever has. Maybe it’s because everything that hunted me is gone. Maybe it’s because I’m finally free. Or maybe… maybe it’s him. Zack.He’s asleep on the couch, one arm thrown over his chest, his breathing slow and unguarded. I never get tired of looking at him like this. It reminds me of how far we’ve come—
Sophia's POV The rain lashed against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the mansion like a thousand tiny fists, each drop a reminder of the storm raging outside, and the one brewing inside me. I paced the marble floors, my bare feet cold against the polished stone, my silk robe clinging to my skin in all the wrong ways. The mansion felt too big, too empty, the echoes of my footsteps swallowed by the high ceilings. My dad, Rae and my mom stayed at home while I was at one of my mansions out of town. My mind was a whirlwind of fury and need, a toxic cocktail that burned through my veins. Zack. Just thinking his name made my stomach twist, my thighs clench. I hated him. I wanted him. I couldn’t decide which was worse. The thunder cracked so violently the windows trembled, and I jumped, my breath hitching. My reflection in the glass was a ghost—wild hair, flushed cheeks, lips parted as if I’d been kissing someone. But there was no one here. Just me and the memory of his hands on my body, hi
Author's POV The hospital had a strange way of swallowing sound. Even the corridors, always full of steps and distant voices, seemed to breathe quietly tonight. Behind one of the closed doors, in a dim blue room that smelled of disinfectant and slow hours, Zack Holmes laid motionless on the bed, staring at the ceiling as if every answer he ever wanted could be etched there if he looked long enough.His mother sat beside him. She hadn’t moved for hours. Her hand rested over his, light and trembling, as if she feared that the smallest pressure could hurt him more than the bullet already had. Zack didn’t speak at first. He hadn’t spoken much since the surgery. Painkillers softened the edges of reality, but not enough to dull the regret burning through him. It made something sharp in his chest twist with every breath. When he finally opened his mouth, his voice came out low, cracked, as if carved out from a bruise.“I loved her,” he whispered.Mrs. Holmes closed her eyes, the words cutt
Sophia POVThe room froze the second I stepped in.Silence didn’t just fall — it crashed.Every eye turned to me as my heels clicked against the marble, echoing through the long, suffocating conference room. White suit. Straight posture. Controlled breath. My heart thundered beneath the calm mask, but my face? Cold. Sculpted. Unreadable.Alex’s smirk was the first thing to break through that still air. “Well, look who crawled out of the gutter! I didn't know rats were invited to this family meeting!” he said, his eyes trying to pierce through my soul like he owned my existence. “Sophia Buckleman, huh? You thought it'd be funny to come here with your pathetic suit and try to convince us all that you stole the name of the richest family on the West Side?! YOU'RE MORE STUPID THAN I THOUGHT AND I DON'T HAVE ANY TIME TO PLAY YOUR SHITTY GAMES.”I didn’t flinch. I walked right past Zack, right past the lawyer, and stopped at the head of the table — his seat. The one that used to belong to M
Alex’s POV The hospital smelled like disinfectant and death. That sterile, suffocating kind of smell that crawls into your skin and stays there for days. Zack was pacing like a maniac, barking orders at the doctors, shaking nurses by their arms, as if screaming could save our father. I just sat in the corner, staring at the monitors blinking above the bed. Tubes everywhere. Our father looked smaller, weaker. The great Mr. Holmes—ruthless, untouchable—reduced to a bundle of wires and bruises.I didn’t feel a thing. At some point, I was actually happy that this little piece of shit was suffering in his bones and I watched over him now with all the power he always swore I wasn't worth having. No fear. No sadness. Just boredom mixed with a kind of bitter curiosity. I wondered if this was finally it—if the old bastard would finally die and leave me the fortune I’ve been waiting for my entire fucking life.Zack looked pathetic. His voice cracked as he kept questioning the nurses and guard
Zack's POV The room stood quiet, too quiet. Only the fire spoke — the soft crackle of burning wood, the occasional hiss when a log split open. I sat there, half-buried in the leather chair, my hand wrapped around a glass of whisky that had long stopped warming me. The flames kept dancing, but they didn’t give any comfort. They just reminded me of what I’d lost. Sophia’s face lived inside that fire. Every flicker looked like the shape of her smile, and every spark dying out felt like one of her fading breaths. I didn’t blink. I couldn’t. The heat on my skin was the only thing that made me feel alive.I took another sip. It bit hard at my throat, sharp, punishing. Maybe I wanted that. Maybe pain was the only thing that made sense anymore. Two months. That’s how long it had been since everything collapsed — the mansion, the lies, her. Two months since I’d stopped sleeping properly, since I’d stopped trying to wash her scent out of my hands. My father’s parlor still smelled of old power







