Sophie stirred at the faint sound of his voice, low and raspy. She blinked against the morning light spilling through the curtains, her eyes landing on Drake as he shifted restlessly on the bed."Althea…" he muttered, his voice cracking like it carried the weight of something unspeakable.Sophie frowned, inching closer. “Drake?”He didn’t respond, his brow furrowing deeply as he whispered the name again. Althea.Her chest tightened. Who was Althea? The name meant nothing to her, yet the way he said it—it was almost desperate.She reached out, her hand hovering just above his shoulder before gently pressing against it. “Drake, it’s me. Sophie.”His eyes fluttered open, glassy and unfocused. For a moment, it was as though he didn’t recognize her. Then his gaze softened, and the corners of his mouth twitched in something like relief.“Sophie,” he rasped, his voice barely audible.“Yeah,” she murmured, trying to ignore the knot forming in her stomach. “It’s me. You’re burning up.”Her han
Sophie heard the faint creak of the bathroom door and turned to see Drake emerging, his hair damp and pushed back, droplets of water clinging to his skin. He looked refreshed, like a man who had reclaimed control after losing it entirely. But the moment their eyes met, she knew something was different.Gone was the faint vulnerability she had glimpsed last night. His expression was unreadable, his eyes cold and distant.“Feeling better?” she asked hesitantly, her voice softer than she intended.“Fine,” he replied curtly, moving past her without a second glance.The distance in his tone caught her off guard. She had spent the entire night nursing him back to health, watching over him when he was at his weakest. Now, it was as though none of it had ever happened.Sophie forced herself to breathe, brushing off the unease creeping into her chest. It’s just the fever, she told herself. He’s probably still recovering.“I made breakfast,” she said, trying to bridge the gap forming between th
The blood came first.Sophie Myers stood frozen, her hands trembling as she stared down at the deep crimson pooling around her feet. The silk of her pale dress clung to her thighs, stained and ruined. She blinked, trying to focus, but the sounds of the party around her, the laughter, the music, and the clinking of champagne glasses—were all drowned out by the thundering of her heart.No.Her stomach twisted violently, a sharp pain shooting through her body. She sucked in a breath, barely able to stand. Her fingers curled tightly around the edge of the marble table beside her, nails scraping against the surface.“Edward.” Her voice was small, breaking under the weight of her panic. She found him a few steps away, his back to her, perfectly poised with his colleagues. “Edward, please…”Her husband turned slowly, a glass of whiskey balanced between his fingers. His expression hardened the moment his gaze met hers, a flicker of irritation at the interruption, as though she were a child tu
The week after, the hospital felt like a blur.Sophie Myers moved through the days on autopilot, eating when the nurses reminded her, staring at the beige walls of her hospital room, and ignoring the pity in the doctor’s eyes when he checked on her recovery. Her body was healing, but her mind wasn’t.Edward hadn’t returned after the divorce papers. No calls, no messages, not even an assistant to deliver the rest of her belongings.On the eighth day, Sophie stood by the window, the hospital gown hanging loose on her shoulders as sunlight poured in. Enough was enough. If Edward wouldn’t keep his end of the deal, she’d handle it herself.♡♡♡When Sophie arrived at the mansion, it felt like walking into a hollow memory lane.The Flynn estate was as grand as ever, with arched gates, pristine lawns, the long driveway she used to love. But something was off.Too quiet.Her heels clicked against the marble floors as she entered, carrying the faint echo of an empty house. There were no servant
Sophie sat on the hard cot in her cell, staring at the peeling paint on the grey walls. Two days. Forty-eight hours of nothing but silence, stale food, and the cold realization that no one was coming for her.The police had given her no lawyer, no phone call. They’d left her there like a criminal without rights without a voice. When the metal door creaked open on the third morning, she didn’t even look up.“You’re allowed to see a lawyer now,” the officer said flatly.Sophie’s head snapped up. “Finally,” she muttered under her breath as she stood, her legs stiff from sitting too long.The interrogation room was colder this time, Sophie sat across from a rotating series of lawyers, faces that looked her over once, their expressions were guarded, and left within minutes.The excuses were endless. “It’s a conflict of interest.” “I can’t take on a case of this magnitude.” “I have other commitments.”But she knew the truth. None of them wanted to cross Edward Flynn, not even in death. His
Lucas stepped into the massive office of Drake Hazelwood. The room was dim, save for the streaks of sunlight slashing through the tall windows, painting sharp, golden lines across the mahogany desk and leather chairs. Everything in here spoke of wealth, power, and the silent danger Drake exuded because Drake Hazelwood didn’t do anything unless it benefitted him.And Lucas knew that.Drake sat behind his desk, leaned back in a leather chair, a glass of dark amber whiskey swirling lazily in his hand. He didn’t bother to look up as Lucas entered, his eyes fixed on the city skyline outside the window.“You’re late,” Drake muttered, his voice smooth and low, as if he couldn’t be bothered to care.Lucas clenched his fists to his sides, fighting back the irritation clawing its way up. “You knew I’d come.”Finally, Drake looked at him. His gaze was sharp—too sharp. “Of course you came. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”Lucas ignored the smug tone and cut straight to the point. “I need you to f
Sophie barely slept that night. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the cold, unreadable expression on Drake’s face as he told her she was married to him. Married. To him. The words echoed in her mind, but no matter how many times she repeated them, it didn’t make any sense.What had she signed? She kept trying to remember the papers she’d scrawled her name on, but the memory was fuzzy. Had she missed the marriage certificate buried in the stack of documents? No, she hadn’t seen it. It was a trap, a calculated move by Drake, and now she was tangled in a web of his making.She sat up in her small apartment, staring at the gray morning light spilling through the window. Her phone buzzed on the table, and she grabbed it, hoping for some kind of reprieve from the nightmare. It was an unfamiliar number, but Sophie didn’t hesitate before answering."Hello?""Mrs. Hazelwood," came Drake’s voice, smooth and chilling as ever. "I need you to meet me at my office today. It’s time to finalize
Sophie woke up to the blinding light streaming through the window. It felt like she’d only just closed her eyes, but the day was already here. A new day in the hell that Drake had trapped her in.Her phone buzzed. A message from him. Be ready in an hour. We have somewhere to be.Sophie wanted to throw the phone across the room. But she didn’t. She knew better than to act out now. If she was going to survive this, she needed to keep her cool.She threw on a dress, something simple, nothing too flashy. She didn’t want to give him any reason to look at her more than necessary. But deep down, she knew it wouldn’t matter. He looked at her like she was a puzzle to be solved—a toy to be played with.When she walked into the living room, Drake was already waiting, his usual cold expression plastered on his face. He stood by the door, hands in his pockets, looking like a goddamn statue. His gaze met hers, and for a split second, something flickered in his eyes. But then it was gone, replaced w
Sophie heard the faint creak of the bathroom door and turned to see Drake emerging, his hair damp and pushed back, droplets of water clinging to his skin. He looked refreshed, like a man who had reclaimed control after losing it entirely. But the moment their eyes met, she knew something was different.Gone was the faint vulnerability she had glimpsed last night. His expression was unreadable, his eyes cold and distant.“Feeling better?” she asked hesitantly, her voice softer than she intended.“Fine,” he replied curtly, moving past her without a second glance.The distance in his tone caught her off guard. She had spent the entire night nursing him back to health, watching over him when he was at his weakest. Now, it was as though none of it had ever happened.Sophie forced herself to breathe, brushing off the unease creeping into her chest. It’s just the fever, she told herself. He’s probably still recovering.“I made breakfast,” she said, trying to bridge the gap forming between th
Sophie stirred at the faint sound of his voice, low and raspy. She blinked against the morning light spilling through the curtains, her eyes landing on Drake as he shifted restlessly on the bed."Althea…" he muttered, his voice cracking like it carried the weight of something unspeakable.Sophie frowned, inching closer. “Drake?”He didn’t respond, his brow furrowing deeply as he whispered the name again. Althea.Her chest tightened. Who was Althea? The name meant nothing to her, yet the way he said it—it was almost desperate.She reached out, her hand hovering just above his shoulder before gently pressing against it. “Drake, it’s me. Sophie.”His eyes fluttered open, glassy and unfocused. For a moment, it was as though he didn’t recognize her. Then his gaze softened, and the corners of his mouth twitched in something like relief.“Sophie,” he rasped, his voice barely audible.“Yeah,” she murmured, trying to ignore the knot forming in her stomach. “It’s me. You’re burning up.”Her han
Drake’s body sagged against Sophie as they stumbled through the front door. His weight was unbearable, nearly sending her to the ground more than once, but she clenched her teeth and pushed forward. She wasn’t sure what scared her more—seeing him collapse or the raw weakness she’d seen in his eyes just before he did.She lowered him onto the bed, her arms trembling from the effort. He looked like a shadow of himself, pale, damp, and utterly defeated. Drake Hazelwood, the man who never flinched, never broke, was now lying there like a man on the edge of something terrifying.“Drake.” Her voice was steady, even though she didn’t feel it. “What’s wrong? What happened?”His eyes flickered open, just barely. The usual sharpness was gone, replaced with something softer, something that tugged at her chest. “Nothing,” he croaked, his voice so quiet she had to strain to hear it.“Don’t give me that,” she snapped, brushing the damp strands of hair from his forehead. “You don’t just collapse in
Sophie woke up to the blinding light streaming through the window. It felt like she’d only just closed her eyes, but the day was already here. A new day in the hell that Drake had trapped her in.Her phone buzzed. A message from him. Be ready in an hour. We have somewhere to be.Sophie wanted to throw the phone across the room. But she didn’t. She knew better than to act out now. If she was going to survive this, she needed to keep her cool.She threw on a dress, something simple, nothing too flashy. She didn’t want to give him any reason to look at her more than necessary. But deep down, she knew it wouldn’t matter. He looked at her like she was a puzzle to be solved—a toy to be played with.When she walked into the living room, Drake was already waiting, his usual cold expression plastered on his face. He stood by the door, hands in his pockets, looking like a goddamn statue. His gaze met hers, and for a split second, something flickered in his eyes. But then it was gone, replaced w
Sophie barely slept that night. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the cold, unreadable expression on Drake’s face as he told her she was married to him. Married. To him. The words echoed in her mind, but no matter how many times she repeated them, it didn’t make any sense.What had she signed? She kept trying to remember the papers she’d scrawled her name on, but the memory was fuzzy. Had she missed the marriage certificate buried in the stack of documents? No, she hadn’t seen it. It was a trap, a calculated move by Drake, and now she was tangled in a web of his making.She sat up in her small apartment, staring at the gray morning light spilling through the window. Her phone buzzed on the table, and she grabbed it, hoping for some kind of reprieve from the nightmare. It was an unfamiliar number, but Sophie didn’t hesitate before answering."Hello?""Mrs. Hazelwood," came Drake’s voice, smooth and chilling as ever. "I need you to meet me at my office today. It’s time to finalize
Lucas stepped into the massive office of Drake Hazelwood. The room was dim, save for the streaks of sunlight slashing through the tall windows, painting sharp, golden lines across the mahogany desk and leather chairs. Everything in here spoke of wealth, power, and the silent danger Drake exuded because Drake Hazelwood didn’t do anything unless it benefitted him.And Lucas knew that.Drake sat behind his desk, leaned back in a leather chair, a glass of dark amber whiskey swirling lazily in his hand. He didn’t bother to look up as Lucas entered, his eyes fixed on the city skyline outside the window.“You’re late,” Drake muttered, his voice smooth and low, as if he couldn’t be bothered to care.Lucas clenched his fists to his sides, fighting back the irritation clawing its way up. “You knew I’d come.”Finally, Drake looked at him. His gaze was sharp—too sharp. “Of course you came. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”Lucas ignored the smug tone and cut straight to the point. “I need you to f
Sophie sat on the hard cot in her cell, staring at the peeling paint on the grey walls. Two days. Forty-eight hours of nothing but silence, stale food, and the cold realization that no one was coming for her.The police had given her no lawyer, no phone call. They’d left her there like a criminal without rights without a voice. When the metal door creaked open on the third morning, she didn’t even look up.“You’re allowed to see a lawyer now,” the officer said flatly.Sophie’s head snapped up. “Finally,” she muttered under her breath as she stood, her legs stiff from sitting too long.The interrogation room was colder this time, Sophie sat across from a rotating series of lawyers, faces that looked her over once, their expressions were guarded, and left within minutes.The excuses were endless. “It’s a conflict of interest.” “I can’t take on a case of this magnitude.” “I have other commitments.”But she knew the truth. None of them wanted to cross Edward Flynn, not even in death. His
The week after, the hospital felt like a blur.Sophie Myers moved through the days on autopilot, eating when the nurses reminded her, staring at the beige walls of her hospital room, and ignoring the pity in the doctor’s eyes when he checked on her recovery. Her body was healing, but her mind wasn’t.Edward hadn’t returned after the divorce papers. No calls, no messages, not even an assistant to deliver the rest of her belongings.On the eighth day, Sophie stood by the window, the hospital gown hanging loose on her shoulders as sunlight poured in. Enough was enough. If Edward wouldn’t keep his end of the deal, she’d handle it herself.♡♡♡When Sophie arrived at the mansion, it felt like walking into a hollow memory lane.The Flynn estate was as grand as ever, with arched gates, pristine lawns, the long driveway she used to love. But something was off.Too quiet.Her heels clicked against the marble floors as she entered, carrying the faint echo of an empty house. There were no servant
The blood came first.Sophie Myers stood frozen, her hands trembling as she stared down at the deep crimson pooling around her feet. The silk of her pale dress clung to her thighs, stained and ruined. She blinked, trying to focus, but the sounds of the party around her, the laughter, the music, and the clinking of champagne glasses—were all drowned out by the thundering of her heart.No.Her stomach twisted violently, a sharp pain shooting through her body. She sucked in a breath, barely able to stand. Her fingers curled tightly around the edge of the marble table beside her, nails scraping against the surface.“Edward.” Her voice was small, breaking under the weight of her panic. She found him a few steps away, his back to her, perfectly poised with his colleagues. “Edward, please…”Her husband turned slowly, a glass of whiskey balanced between his fingers. His expression hardened the moment his gaze met hers, a flicker of irritation at the interruption, as though she were a child tu