Why Him?

Sofia's POV 

"You've been out Sofia," My father's cold voice made me shudder as I stepped into the house.

"I'm being pimped out Father, can't I have at least a night for myself?" I retorted, moving to go into my room.

"The guards told me you left despite the warning I'd given to you," He said but I gave no response, the throbbing of my legs from the intensity of what happened last night soaring through my body.

"What if something had happened to you? What would I have to say..."

"Say to who? The one who I'm being sold to in exchange for saving you?" I snapped with a scoff, watching a small glitch in his reaction.

"That's not what I'm talking about Sofia, I just need you to understand that I'm doing this for..."

"I'd really appreciate it if you do not complete those words you want to say, Dad," I said, walking closer to him.

"What do you want to say? To tell me that you're doing it for my sake, have you thought about the possible consequences of what you're throwing at me Dad, to be married to a man I know nothing about, what if he abuses me, hits me, or even kills me. And you know the most disgusting part is that he might as well sell me off to some man because he has some debts to pay?" I questioned, my eyes brimming with tears that dripped down my face.

"That's not going to happen..."

"I also thought it was never going to happen to me too Dad, I trusted you to let me live my life and not sell me off to some man," I yelled in his face.

"I'm sor..."

"You know what, it's okay, an apology is the last thing I want from you," I said and walked out on him to my room, plopping onto the bed.

The fuzzy thought of what happened yesterday replayed in my mind before I walked to take a bath, bracing myself for what was to happen.

*******

"Miss Sofia," a maid called as I walked out of my bathroom.

"Your father says it's time to go," She said and I gave no response, I wasn't going to.

"Miss Sofia," the maid called again, her voice insistent.

"I heard you the first time, I'll come down when I'm ready," I said and heard her footsteps recede 

With a resigned sigh, I pulled a simple lazy gown over my body. Fastening the buttons, my thoughts drifted back to last night—to Zack. The sensory thought of how his hands trailed my hands over my body.

"Sofia," My father's voice broke my thoughts, and I walked out to meet him.

The driver's waiting, he said, his voice as meek as he could manage.

.

.

.

"This way, Miss Sofia," the butler to my husband to be said, gesturing down an endless hallway. My father followed closely behind, but I didn’t look at him.

The door to the drawing room loomed ahead, large and ominous. I swallowed hard as the butler pushed it open, revealing an opulent room bathed in warm light. But my eyes weren’t on them.

They were on him—Zack.

He stood by the fireplace, his lean frame relaxed yet commanding, his dark eyes locking onto mine the moment I entered. The air shifted, and for a moment, it was as if we were the only two people in the room.

“Sofia?” His voice was low, almost a whisper, but I heard it.

My breath hitched, and my legs wobbled as memories of the night before flooded back. His touch. His voice. The way he made me feel alive and untethered from this suffocating world.

I didn’t know what to say. What could I say?

Zack took a step forward, his expression a mixture of shock and something else I couldn’t quite place—something that sent a shiver down my spine.

“You…” he started, his voice strained.

But before either of us could say another word, the door opened again, and the sound of heavy footsteps echoed behind me.

"Zack, what are you doing standing there? Come meet our guests properly," a sharp, commanding voice said.

I turned to see another man walking into the room, Micheal, and another that looked similar to Zack—the same piercing eyes and sharp jawline—but his demeanor was colder, more calculating—evil, that screamed that I should be running away.

“I see you’ve met my twin,” the man said, striding past me without a second glance. “Alex,” he introduced himself, his voice gruff as he extended a hand toward my father.

My father shook it, a smile spreading across his face.

"And this must be Sofia," Alex said, his eyes flickering over me with a detached sort of interest. “You’re just as I imagined.”

My stomach twisted. The stark contrast between Alex's cold formality and the fiery, magnetic energy I’d felt with Zack the night before was glaring.

Zack, who hadn’t moved from his spot by the fireplace, finally tore his gaze away from me. His jaw was tight, his fists clenched at his sides.

“You didn’t tell me your fiancée was arriving today,” Zack said, his tone casual but with an edge that didn’t go unnoticed.

Nathaniel raised an eyebrow. “Why would I? It’s not your concern.”

Zack’s lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes darting back to me. I felt pinned under his gaze, my heart racing. Did he regret last night? Was he angry?

“I think we should all sit down,” Nathaniel continued, gesturing toward the plush sofas. “There’s much to discuss.”

I moved toward one of the sofas, my legs feeling like jelly. Zack remained standing, his hands shoved into his pockets as he leaned against the fireplace, leaning in to give me sight of the angel wings.

His eyes were unleaving from where he sat and I could feel my insides lurch at the rambling thoughts of last night and the miserable way we had to meet again.

“I can't do this”