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 wealth, his name, his influence—they were still powerful enough to haunt her. On the sixth lawyer, a middle-aged man in an expensive suit sighed as he closed his briefcase. “Mrs. Myers, you don’t need a lawyer. You need a miracle.” His words hit like a slap. Sophie sat frozen, watching him walk out of the room, the door shutting behind him with an ominous click. A miracle. Her mind whirled, desperation clawing at her chest. A name floated to the surface. It was distant but clear. Lucas Carter. ♡♡♡ Sophie leaned against the payphone in the holding area, the receiver cold against her ear. She held her breath as the line rang once, twice. She knew it was a long shot. It had been years since she last saw Lucas. Back then, they were only acquaintances. Friends, if you stretched the word thin. Lucas was sharp, influential, and connected in places she never thought she’d need. But most importantly, he owed her. On the fourth ring, someone picked up. “Sophie?” His voice was deep, familiar, though tinged with surprise. She swallowed, gripping the phone tighter. “Lucas. I need your help.” There was a pause on the line. “Where are you?” “In a police cell,” she said, her voice shaking despite herself. “I’m being accused of Edward’s murder.” A soft exhale on the other end. “Edward’s dead?” “Yes.” Sophie’s throat tightened. “I didn’t do it, Lucas. But no one will fight for me. No one—” Her voice cracked. “Please.” Another pause, heavier this time. “I’ll come see you.” ♡♡♡ Lucas was the same, tall, impeccably dressed, with a sharp gaze that seemed to cut through everything it landed on. When Sophie was brought to meet him in the visitor’s room, she felt a small spark of relief for the first time in days. “Sophie,” he said, sitting down across from her. His expression was unreadable, but his tone held a note of something softer. “You came,” she said quietly. “I owe you.” The memory lingered between them unspoken. Years ago, Sophie had saved him. He was a man with many friends and even more enemies. But Sophie, Sophie had stepped in when no one else would. “And now you’re here,” Lucas said, looking at her intently. “Accused of murder. Edward Flynn’s murder.” “I didn’t do it,” she said firmly. “I believe you,” Lucas replied without hesitation. Those words hit her harder than she expected. No one had said that to her yet. Not once. “But,” he continued, “you’re in deeper than you realize. The police aren’t just looking for the truth—they’re looking for a quick win. And Edward… Edward’s name still carries weight.” Sophie lowered her head, staring at the scratched tabletop. “I know.” “What about your family?” Lucas asked. Her head shot up, eyes filled with pain. “They’re not an option.” He leaned back slightly, waiting. “When I married Edward, my mother told me to choose—him or them,” she said, her voice raw. “I chose him.” “And they never forgave you.” Sophie nodded. “They won’t help me now, Lucas.” He studied her for a moment, then exhaled through his nose, as though already calculating the moves ahead. “Fine. Then I’ll help.” “You will?” Sophie’s voice trembled with relief. He smirked faintly. “I’m not in the habit of abandoning friends. Besides, it’ll take more than Edward Flynn’s name to scare me.” That night, as Sophie sat back in her cell, she felt the smallest flicker of hope. Lucas was powerful, connected, and unshakable. If anyone could fight for her, it was him. But beneath the hope lingered something darker, something unsettling. Who killed Edward? She closed her eyes, replaying every moment of the past week. The empty house. The silence. The way everyone had looked at her without answering her questions. Someone had set her up. And whoever it was knew exactly how to bury her alive. ♡♡♡ Lucas sat in his car, gripping the steering wheel tightly. The weight of what he had just promised Sophie pressed on him. He couldn’t shake the image of her, defeated but holding on, clutching the sliver of hope he’d just handed her. His phone buzzed beside him. With a quick glance, he picked it up, scrolling through his contacts until he found the name he needed. The screen flashed as he hit Call. The line rang twice before a low, measured voice answered, “Lucas. Didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.” Lucas didn’t waste time. “I need your help. It’s urgent.” A pause. “What’s the case?” “It’s a murder charge.” Lucas swallowed hard, his voice steady despite the knot in his chest. “Edward Flynn.” Another beat of silence. Then, the voice said cautiously, “Flynn? That’s not just any case. You’re treading dangerous ground, Lucas.” “I know,” Lucas replied quickly. “But I need you to fight this one. It’s really important. Please.” “Why? What’s the angle?” “It’s… personal.” His voice wavered, but only for a moment. “You don’t need the details. I just need you to take this case.” “You’re asking me to go against the system for you.” “Yes,” Lucas admitted. “And I’ll do whatever you ask of me in return. Whatever it takes.” The man, on the other end, exhaled sharply, clearly weighing his options. “You’re putting me in a tight spot, Lucas.” “I know,” he said again, this time with more desperation. “But you’ve done it before. Just this once—please. Help me with this.” There was a long pause, broken only by the distant sound of traffic on the line. Finally, the voice said, “Fine. We’ll meet tomorrow. Noon. Don’t be late.” Lucas closed his eyes, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Thank you.” “Don’t thank me yet.” The voice turned sharp. "Ok." “Good. And Lucas?” “Yeah?” “Make sure this is worth it.” The call ended with a sharp click, leaving Lucas in silence once more. He dropped the phone onto the passenger seat, running a hand down his face. The stakes were higher than ever, but there was no turning back now. Tomorrow, the fight would begin.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
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 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 next morning, Sophie woke up to the soft knock of the maid on her door. Her body felt heavier than usual, her mind clouded with lingering exhaustion. She glanced at the clock on her bedside table—it was past ten. Strange. She hadn’t slept in this late in years.“Ma’am?” the maid called again, her voice was hesitant.Sophie sighed, dragging herself out of bed and opening the door. The maid stood there, holding a sleek black card in her gloved hand.“This is from Mr. Hazelwood,” she said, her eyes fixed on the floor, as though afraid to meet Sophie’s gaze.Sophie’s brows furrowed. “What is it?”“A black card, ma’am,” the maid said softly. “He asked me to deliver it to you this morning before he left yesterday .”Sophie stared at the card, her heart was a mixture of irritation and curiosity. So, this was his version of an apology? No explanation. No effort to actually address what had happened. Just a shiny piece of plastic with a limitless balance. Typical Drake Hazelwood.She took
When Sophia woke, her body screamed in protest. A sharp, radiating ache started at her wrists, tied so tightly that the rope burned into her skin. Her head throbbed, each pulse sending a wave of nausea through her. Blinking against the dim light, she tried to take in her surroundings. The room was bare with cold concrete walls, and a single dangling bulb casting long, shifting shadows, and silence so heavy it pressed down on her chest.Her breath hitched as the events leading to this moment began to claw their way back to her consciousness. The black card. The shopping spree. The silence in the house. And then the chloroform.She tried to shift, only to realize her ankles were bound to the legs of the chair. Panic surged in her chest, but she forced herself to stay still. Panic never helped anyone escape.The door creaked open, the sound slicing through the silence like a blade. A man stepped in, he was tall, broad-shouldered, and shrouded in shadow. The dim light barely touched his f
Her heels clicked against the pavement as she walked back home, hating herself for deciding not to get a car. The cold air bit at her exposed skin. God, she hated this. The city lights blurred from a distance, neon colors smudging against the night sky, making it all the more beautiful. She was beyond exhausted. Tonight had drained her completely, and all she wanted was to crawl into her bed and pretend the world outside didn’t exist.But the sound of her phone ringing yanked her out of her thoughts.She frowned, pulling it from her bag. It was an unknown number. That was strange .Her thumb hovered over the screen for a while before she finally answered. “Hello?”Silence.Then came a low chuckle. The voice was smooth and cool, like the hypocrite he was.“The great Sophie Hazelwood. It’s quite a pleasure, I must say.”Her spine stiffened. The familiarity of it made her skin crawl. She had heard this voice before. But where?“I’m sorry, who is this?” she asked, her voice calm and cont
Sophie adjusted her blazer, smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles as she stood in front of the towering glass building. She had spent days applying for jobs, sending out her portfolio, and attending interviews. And finally, finally—she had landed one. A design assistant position at one of the most prestigious fashion companies in the city. The AH Group. She hadn’t even thought about the name when she first got the call. The company was massive, with branches across various industries, and she had assumed the fashion division was just another business under their umbrella. It wasn’t until she stepped out of the taxi and saw the large silver letters on the building’s entrance that her stomach dropped. Hazelwood Enterprises. She clenched her jaw, gripping her portfolio so tightly her fingers ached. This had to be a coincidence. He wasn’t involved in every single detail of his empire, was he? She took a deep breath. She needed this job. She wanted this job. And it wasn’t like s
Sophie wasn’t going to cry again. She had already wasted enough tears on a man who refused to choose her. But no matter how many times she told herself she didn’t care, the sight of Freddie draped over Drake burned in her mind. She wasn’t stupid. Freddie was playing a game, a cruel and disgusting game and Drake was letting her. Why? Did he enjoy watching her suffer? Did he want her to beg for his attention? What was his intentions exactly? She scoffed at the thought. Not happening. If he wanted to play, she’d show him she wasn’t one to lose. The atmosphere at dinner was unbearably tense. Vivienne, ever the perfect hostess, had arranged a lavish meal, ensuring that Freddie had a seat right beside Drake. Of course she had. Sophie knew Vivienne wanted her gone. Knew she had been against this marriage from the start. But this? This was war. And Sophie wasn’t backing down. She sat at the other end of the table, pretending to be unbothered as Freddie giggled beside Drake,
Sophie barely slept. She had spent the night curled up in bed, her pillow damp with tears she hadn’t wanted to shed. She hated that she felt this way, that she cared this much. She should have expected it. Should have known that whatever this was between her and Drake had an expiration date. But the pain still came, sharp and suffocating, as if someone had reached inside her chest and squeezed. When she had told him she wanted a divorce, she had expected something, anger, relief, maybe even indifference. But not this. “No.” That was all he had said. A single word, spoken with the kind of finality that made her stomach drop. Sophie had stared at him, waiting for him to say something else, waiting for an explanation. But he had just looked at her, before walking away as if the conversation had never happened. And that had shattered something inside her. She wasn’t going to beg him, she was calling outs on this marriage. She stepped out of her room, pulling her robe tightly ar
Sophie sat in bed long after Drake left, her arms wrapped around her knees. The room still smelled like him, like expensive cologne and something darker, something intoxicatingly disgusting. Her body was still thrumming with the remnants of his touch, her skin still burning from the way he had held her, the way he had wanted her. And yet, here she was abandoned like a pile of dirty laundry. She clenched her jaw, swallowing the bitter lump she felt in her throat. Why did she let herself believe, even for a second, that things would be different? That he would be different? Sophie shook her head and stood up, reaching for her robe.She needed to pull herself together.She was done chasing a man who would never put her first. She was so over him. Not that she loved it. Drake stepped out of the car, his expression as cold as the artic as he entered the private terminal of Nexus. He had barely spoken a word since Vivienne’s call, but his mind was still spinning. Freddie was h
Sophie’s back met the cool marble counter, but the sensation barely registered.Not when Drake was everywhere, his lips rough and demanding, stealing her breath, her thoughts, her hesitation.His hands gripped her waist, pulling her against him, his body pressing into hers with a desperation that made her pulse stutter.She wasn’t thinking anymore. She didn’t want to in any way .Not when the heat of his breath ghosted over her skin, not when his fingers traced fire along the curve of her hip, not when the low, ragged sound he made at her touch sent shivers down her spine and made her oh so wet .Drake’s mouth left hers, trailing along her jaw, lower and lower with his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of her throat.Sophie gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as he lifted her effortlessly onto the counter.Her legs wrapped around his waist, her instinct taking over.The hard press of his body against hers, the slow, deliberate roll of his hips, it unraveled her, it made her s
The flight back home was quieter than the one to Santorini, but it wasn’t the same kind of silence. This time, it wasn’t filled with tension or unspoken irritation. It was heavier. Something had shifted between them on that beach, and Sophie hated it. She hated how much she had enjoyed that last night. She hated how thoughtful Drake had been. And most of all, she hated how a part of her wished the honeymoon wasn’t over. She leaned back in her seat, arms crossed, eyes glued to the window. Drake was beside her, scrolling through his phone as if nothing had changed. Maybe it hasn’t, she thought bitterly. Maybe it was all in your head. But if that were true, why was her heart still racing whenever she thought about the way he had looked at her? Why was it so hard to pretend she wasn’t affected? Sophie let out a slow breath, closing her eyes. She needed to get herself together. Because now, they were going back to reality. And reality meant remembering exactly who they were t
The honeymoon was almost over.Tomorrow, they’d be on a flight back home, back to reality. Back to whatever the hell this marriage was supposed to be.But tonight?Drake had one last surprise.Sophie watched him warily as he led her down a secluded stone path, the air warm and filled with the scent of salt and blooming jasmine.“Where are we going?” she asked, trying to keep up.Drake glanced over his shoulder, smirking. “You’ll see.”She sighed. “You’re insufferable.”“And yet, here you are, following me.”She scowled, but her heart was racing. Not just from the walk, but from the way he was looking at her. The way he had been looking at her all day, like he was seeing her differently.Like he didn’t want this to end either.Finally, they reached a small, hidden cove.Sophie’s breath caught.A candlelit table sat right at the water’s edge, the waves lapping gently against the shore. Fairy lights hung from the surrounding cliffs, casting a golden glow over the sand. A private chef sto
Sophie swallowed hard, her heart slamming against her ribs.Drake didn’t move, his thumb still resting at the corner of her mouth, his eyes locked onto hers with a quiet intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.Her skin burned where he touched her.She should pull away. Say something sharp, something cutting. But her body refused to cooperate, her breath coming in shallow, uneven pulls.Then, as if realizing he was lingering too long, Drake smirked. That damn, infuriating smirk.“Careful, sweetheart,” he murmured, leaning back in his chair, as if he hadn’t just completely unraveled her with a single touch. “Wouldn’t want to give me the wrong idea.”Sophie inhaled sharply, her fingers tightening around her fork. “The only idea you should have is how fast I’d throw you off this balcony if I could.”Drake chuckled, taking a slow sip of his coffee. “Feisty this morning, aren’t we?”She shoved another bite of croissant into her mouth just to keep herself from responding.This man would