Mag-log in[ SOPHIA'S POV ]"Why in the hell did you deliberately disobey my orders?!”His voice shattered the quiet storage room like thunder, shaking the dusty walls and making the clear plastic IV tube tremble where it hung. Anyone else in this estate would have dropped to their knees, trembled, and begged for forgiveness.I didn't move an inch.I didn't drop my gaze, and I didn't let my hands shake as I squeezed the cold towel out into the basin. The water dripped in steady, heavy drops against the porcelain bowl, mirroring the frantic pounding in my chest, but my posture remained as still as stone. Slowly, deliberately, I stood up from the freezing floorboards. The damp fabric of my apron clung to my skirt, but I smoothed it down with unhurried hands, pulled my spine straight, and looked David Kingsley dead in the eye.For the first time in twenty years, I didn't see the feared billionaire or the ruthless master of the estate towering over me. I saw the motherless boy I had raised."Lower
[ SOPHIA'S POV ]I stayed right there on the cold, unforgiving floor, holding her close in the oppressive dark, listening as the medicine slowly took over her frail system. The silence in that cramped storage room was deafening, broken only by the shallow rasp of Miss Samantha’s breathing and the faint, rhythmic drip of the IV bag hanging above us. The air was thick with dust and the sharp, medicinal tang of antiseptic, a smell that clung to the back of my throat and refused to leave.A sudden flash of fear brought me crashing back to reality, the silver trays. I had promised Mary I would bring the silvertrays, and as the head maid, my word kept this whole sprawling house running on its fragile axis. If I flinched or showed even a hint of panic, Mary would notice immediately, Chef would blow up like a powder keg, and the precarious peace I had bought for Miss Samantha with my own defiance would vanish in seconds, taking any chance of her recovery with it.Gently, so gently my hands tr
[ SOPHIA'S POV ]As the door swung open, I was so terrified that it would end today.My chest caved in, my lungs locking up completely. The beam of light hit the floor first, sweeping over the dusty floorboards toward the mattress. I scrambled to my feet, throwing my body right in front of Miss Samantha, praying my dress was wide enough to hide the IV line hanging from the coat rack behind me."Where did Chef say those silver trays were..." a voice muttered from the doorway.The flashlight beam flicked upward, catching me in its glare, and the voice gasped.The voice was thin, high, and completely wrong for David Kingsley.It was Mary. She stood in the doorway holding a flashlight, a heavy brass ring of kitchen keys jingling from her hand. She blinked into the dark storage study, completely surprised to see me standing there. "Oh! I didn't know you were down here, ma'am. Chef sent me to grab the silver serving trays from the back shelf for tonight's dinner party. He's throwing a fit
[ SOPHIA'S POV ]She burned against my chest. Even through my apron and the thin cotton of her dress, the heat soaked into my skin like I was holding a live coal. I pressed my palm to her forehead God, it's worse and pulled her closer, my arms shaking under her dead weight."Miss Samantha!" My voice cracked, bouncing off the bathroom tiles. "Please! Open your eyes!"Nothing. Her head lolled against my shoulder. Her lips were split open, pale as old bone, and every few seconds her whole body jerked small, violent tremors that made her teeth chatter even though her skin was on fire. I laid her back down on the cold floor, her hair spreading out like dark water on the white tiles. Her eyelids didn't even flutter.I pushed myself up, slipped on the wet spot where the soup had spilled an hour ago, and caught myself against the sink. My knees hit the floor again. Hard. Pain shot up my legs, but I didn't care. I scrambled out of that storage room, my feet slapping against the service corrido
[ SAMANTHA'S POV ]This was the second day I have been locked inside this dark, freezing room. Two endless days of sitting in total blackness, listening to the heavy silence of the East Wing. Sophia was nowhere to be found. Usually, the kind maid would sneak in water or a warm blanket when David turned his back, but this time, the door hadn't opened once. David must have banned her from coming anywhere near this hallway. He'd even ordered the kitchen staff to skip my meals entirely, leaving me to starve in the cold until I learned my lesson.He thought I was plotting against him. He thought I was secretly making deals with Julian Vance, his bitter business rival. He had no idea what Julian had actually whispered in my ear at the gala. Julian hadn't threatened me; he was far too calculating for that. He'd figured out that my marriage to David was a complete sham, a cold loveless marriage wrapped in fake smiles for the media. He saw right through the loving couple act we put on for the
[ DAVID'S POV ]"You told me I don't exist. Why do you care who speaks to a ghost?"She really thought those pathetic, dramatic words were going to break me. She thought acting like a lifeless doll in the back of my car would make me feel guilty, soften my heart, or force me to back down.She was dead wrong. Nobody talked back to me like that. Nobody played cheap mind games with David Kingsley and walked away feeling victorious. I had spent years building an empire by crushing men who thought they were smarter than me, and I certainly wasn't going to let my own wife sit across from me and pretend she had any control in this relationship.The brief flash of surprise in my chest vanished in a split second, replaced by a solid wall of pure, unyielding ice. My cold, ruthless nature took over completely, pushing away any small trace of doubt. A dark, dangerous quiet settled over my face. My eyes narrowed into tight slits, freezing the remaining heat right out of the car's interior.I didn'







