Sophia’s POV By the time I finished my shift, my arm throbbed relentlessly despite the makeshift bandage I’d applied at the restaurant. My exhaustion weighed heavily on me, both physical and emotional. As I trudged home, my phone buzzed with a call from Crystal. “Sophia,” her voice was immediately concerned. “I heard about what happened. Are you okay?” I sighed, clutching the phone tightly. “I’m fine, Crystal. It’s just a burn. I’ll take care of it.” “No, you won’t,” she replied firmly. “You’re going to the hospital. I’m picking you up in five minutes. Don’t argue with me.” True to her word, Crystal arrived in a flurry of determination, ushering me into her car and driving me to the nearest hospital. The hospital visit was quick. The doctor cleaned the burn, applied a soothing ointment, and wrapped my arm in a fresh bandage. “It’s a second-degree burn, but it should heal well if you take care of it,” the doctor explained. Crystal hovered by my side, her protective energy a
Michael’s POV When the email from the translation department landed in my inbox, I skimmed it out of habit, expecting another update. But one line stopped me cold: “Sophia Scofield has submitted her resignation and is proceeding to do her notice period for 1 week” I stared at the words, my chest tightening with an emotion I couldn’t quite place. Sophia wants to resign? The thought was laughable. She can’t resign. Not from me. I set the email aside, leaning back in my chair as irritation simmered beneath my calm exterior. Sophia had overstepped plain and simple. She thought she could walk away, that she could slip out of my grasp without consequence. That wasn’t how this worked. It wasn’t love. That was very much clear. Love was a sentiment, a weakness. It was just hard to train a woman who is compatible with me. She is my carefully cultivated kitten. I spent 5 years finally teaching her the way I like in bed. How can I let her go easily? No, Sophia leaving wasn’t an opti
Micheal’s Pov The restaurant was upscale and buzzing with activity when we arrived. Cindy greeted the hostess with her usual charm, and we were escorted to a table in the center of the room. As we sat, my eyes scanned the restaurant out of habit, taking in the polished décor, the murmurs of conversation, and the clinking of glasses. Then I saw her. Sophia. She moved gracefully between tables, balancing a tray with practiced ease. The restaurant uniform clung to her figure in a way that made my jaw tighten, and I wasn’t the only one who noticed. Several male diners turned to watch her, their gazes lingering longer than necessary. Sophia Scofield, a waitress The thought irritated me more than it should have. I had known she was resourceful, but this? This felt calculated, designed to draw attention, to provoke me. Cindy's bright laughter echoed through the restaurant, drawing attention. She tried her occasional attempts at playful conversation. But I responded with the
Sophia’s POV Michael stood in the doorway, his broad frame filling the small space. His piercing gray eyes fixed on me, but they didn’t hold their usual detached calm. Instead, there was something sharper, colder. “Disappointed it’s me?” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Or were you hoping it was someone else?” I froze, my breath catching in my throat. His words hit like a slap, but I didn’t react. Not outwardly. What is he implying?I thought, my chest tightening. “Nothing to say?” he added, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “I suppose that’s fitting. Why explain yourself when actions speak louder?” Heat rose to my cheeks, a mix of frustration and hurt swirling inside me. I wanted to respond, to defend myself, but the words stayed lodged in my throat. What could I even say? That it wasn’t what he thought? That Williams had only stopped by because Crystal called him? No. I wasn’t going to explain. Michael wasn’t entitled to an explanation, no matter
Sophia’s POV After Michael left my apartment, the silence felt heavier than usual. I was still replaying his sharp words in my mind when my phone buzzed. It was a message from Crystal. Crystal: Hey, how are you holding up? By the way, Williams asked about you earlier. He still cares, you know. I stared at the screen, unsure how to respond. Finally, I typed something vague: Me: I’m fine. Tell him thanks. Almost immediately, Crystal replied. Crystal: Fine? That’s all? Sophia, be honest. What’s going on with you two? I sighed, leaning back against the couch. I knew Crystal wouldn’t let it go, so I answered carefully. Me: Nothing. There’s nothing between us. Her reply came faster this time. Crystal: Come on, everyone from college thought you two would end up together. You liked him, and he liked you. You were practically inseparable. I shook my head, smiling faintly at the memory. Crystal wasn’t wrong. Back in college, Williams and I had been close. He was charming, thoug
Sophia’s POV I noticed it as soon as I reached Williams' table. The sleeve of my uniform had turned red, the fabric soaked with blood. My burn wound must have reopened when Joe grabbed my arm earlier. I tried to cover it, but Williams’s sharp eyes immediately caught the stain. “Sophia, your arm,” he said, standing abruptly. His face was full of concern, his usual calm replaced by urgency. “Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?” “It’s fine,” I said quickly, brushing it off. “I’ll take care of it after my shift.” “No, you won’t,” he said firmly. “Come on. I will take you to the hospital.” Before I could argue, Williams was already guiding me toward the door, his hand gentle yet insistent on my back. At the hospital, the doctor unwrapped the old bandages and cleaned the wound. I winced at the sting, but I didn’t say anything. “You’re lucky this didn’t get infected,” the doctor said, glancing between Williams and me as he worked. “Your girlfriend is really strong. She hasn’
Michael’s POV Snow had just started to fall as the plane touched down. The light flakes drifted lazily, covering the runway in a thin layer of white. I glanced out the window, my thoughts elsewhere. “Is it okay to leave Miss Berlick there?” my assistant, Daniel, asked as we descended the plane’s stairs. “She can return on her own,” I said flatly. Cindy had been a nuisance on this business trip, constantly seeking attention while contributing little of value. I had no patience for her games today, especially not when I had other matters to attend to. Daniel cleared his throat. “The cake you asked me to order has been picked up and placed in the car, sir.” “Good,” I replied, adjusting my coat as the cold air nipped at my face. “Drive the car to Sophia’s apartment.” Daniel didn’t question me, though I could feel his curiosity. I rarely made personal stops, and he must have wondered why I’d ended the trip early. But I wasn’t in the mood to explain. Today was Sophia’s birthda
Sophia's POV Michael's words hung heavy in the air. "Take off your clothes." I froze, his command piercing through the quiet confines of the car. For a moment, I considered defying him, throwing the door open, and running into the snow-covered street. But then reality came crashing down. I couldn't leave,Michael is the most powerful businessman in this city, and I can't afford to offend him. Michael was both my salvation and my obstacle. He was the only reason I wasn't drowning in debt, yet he was also the cage keeping me trapped. Even when I tried to free myself by resigning, I had no better alternative. There was no escaping from him. I smiled bitterly to myself, the gesture hollow and self-deprecating. What a pathetic existence. Michael noticed my silence, his sharp gaze unwavering. "If you refuse, I'll make things simple for you," he said, his voice cold and deliberate. "I can buy out your debt. It wouldn't take much effort." The weight of his words crushed me. My eyes fill
Sophia’s POVI stayed in the office late into the night, triple-checking every detail of the presentation I was preparing for Mr Mahone. The stakes were high, and I couldn’t afford to make a single mistake. By the time I finished, the final file was ready: precise, polished, and flawless. I saved it to the secure server and printed a few hard copies for the meeting the next morning. My body ached from sitting at my desk for hours, but a sense of accomplishment settled over me as I turned off my computer and left the office. The next morning, I arrived early to ensure everything was set up in the boardroom. As I placed the hard copies on the table and opened the file on the shared screen, a sinking feeling hit me. This wasn’t the version I’d prepared. The document on display was an older, outdated draft filled with glaring errors. My heart plummeted as I flipped through the hard copies they were the same. “No, no, no,” I whispered, frantically pulling up the server to locate
Sophia’s POVI set up the resumes of five potential candidates on Mr Mahone’s desk. My resolve was unwavering. I needed to find a replacement for myself so I could finally leave. I had spent the previous night combing through applications and speaking with candidates. These five were among the best. At least, I believed so. Mr Mahone, of course, had agreed to let me search for my replacement, but I wasn’t naïve. I knew him well enough to expect resistance. Still, I was determined to follow through. The first candidate arrived promptly at 9:00 a.m., a tall man in his late thirties. His posture was confident, and his handshake firm. He wore a crisp navy suit that exudes professionalism, and his polished shoes reflected the light streaming through the windows. “Good morning,” the man said, smiling politely. “My name is Andrew Carter.” Michael sat behind his desk, arms folded, and gestured for Andrew to take a seat. Andrew launched into his qualifications. “I have ten years
Michael’s POVSophia’s words replayed in my mind, each one sharper than the last. Her defiance wasn’t just unexpected,it was infuriating. She had never spoken to me like that before, not in such a manner and tone. It wasn’t just what she said, but the way she looked at me, unafraid, as though she had nothing left to lose. “Done being your toy while you go home to your perfect fiancée,” she had said. The accusation burned in my chest. How dare she presume to know anything about my life? About me? And yet... I couldn’t shake the nagging question: where had she found the courage to stand up to me like that? What had pushed her to the edge? Then her words about her debt came back to me. “You’re behind all of it, aren’t you? Cindy buying out the company I owe, the inflated debt!,it’s all part of your plan to keep me under your thumb.” My eyes fell to the debt statement sitting on my desk. The bold numbers stared back at me like a taunt, and a cold realization crept over me.
Sophia’s POV I hadn’t slept. The anxiety of the past few days had settled and aches in my chest, making every breath feel heavier than the last. But staying at home wasn’t an option anymore. Crystal’s words echoed in my mind as I walked into the office. “You can’t keep running, Sophia. Sooner or later, you’ll have to face him.”The tension in the air hit me the moment I stepped into the building. Colleagues exchanged glances as I walked past, their whispers barely contained. The hum of the office felt louder than usual, every noise grating on my already frayed nerves. And then, the inevitable came. “Mr. Mahone wants to see you in his office,” Laura said, her tone laced with satisfaction as she passed by my desk. Of course i said. I took a deep breath and made my way to his office, determined to face whatever storm that awaited me. Mr Mahone was seated at his desk, his piercing eyes locked onto me the moment I entered the room. He gestured for me to close the door, and
Sophia’s POVIt had been two days since I’d gone to work. Two days of ignoring the ringing phone, unanswered emails, and mounting anxiety. I tried to convince myself it wasn’t a big deal. What was the worst that could happen? It wasn’t like the company would collapse without me. But as I lay on Crystal’s couch, the thought that I was avoiding more than just work refused to leave me. The calls from the office were relentless, and when Mr. Mahone’s number flashed on the screen yesterday, I’d silenced it without hesitation. Even now, the phone vibrated again, another incoming call from a department I didn’t care to check. “I’ll deal with it later,” I muttered to myself, turning over and burying my face in the pillow. But when my phone lit up again, this time with Williams’s name, my heart sank. Williams. The one person I didn’t want to deal with right now. Since the night of their last dinner, I haven't spoken to him. It wasn’t because I didn’t care about him or apprecia
Michael’s POVTwo days. That’s how long it had been since Sophia last showed up for work. Her phone was unreachable, and the only thing filling the void of her absence was my growing irritation. My patience had worn thin by the second day. Sophia knew better than to neglect her responsibilities,especially after everything we had been through. By the time I arrived at her apartment that evening, my irritation had turned into quiet fury. But when I knocked on the door, there was no answer. I waited, my frustration increasing with each passing second. I called her phone again, only to be met with the same hollow voicemail message I’d heard all day. My thoughts turned to Williams. Could it be that Sophia neglected work to go and spend time with Williams? I ask questions with no one to answer them.So this is what she had chosen to do. Abandon work to wallow in the attention of someone who didn’t deserve her. I clenched my fists, my jaw tightened as I turned and walked back t
Sophia’s POVI walked into the building where I’d been depositing payments on my debt for months. I had just withdrawn $2,000 to make another payment, and while it wasn’t much. The balance on my last statement was $98,000 manageable, considering how far I’d come since the beginning. But something was off. The usual office space was dimly lit, a few construction workers hammering away at the walls. Signs reading “Under Renovation Services Temporarily Relocated” hung erratically on the doors. “Excuse me,” I asked one of the workers. “Where’s the payment office now?” He barely looked at me before pointing toward a map on the wall. “Temporary warehouse, a block down,” he said. The unease that had settled in my chest earlier grew heavier. A warehouse? Why would a debt company relocate to a warehouse? The warehouse was an unremarkable gray building, its exterior faded and covered in graffiti. Inside, the air was stuffy and smelled faintly of dust and sweat. A single clerk sat b
Michael’s POV I arrived home later than usual after my moms confrontation, as I stepped into the house, the faint sound of hushed voices and the shuffle of movement caught my attention. In the hallway near the kitchen, I saw Martha, my chef of over seven years, clutching a box of her belongings. Her face was pale, her expression weary as she handed a small envelope to a member of the household staff. “Martha?” I called out, my voice sharper than I intended. She froze and turned to face me, with her hands trembling. “Mr. Mahone,” she said softly, lowering her eyes. “What’s going on?” I asked, gesturing to the box in her hands. “I’m leaving, sir,” she replied, her voice laced with sadness. “Leaving?” I repeated, incredulous. “Why? I didn’t approve of this.” Martha hesitated, glancing around as if unsure whether to answer. Finally, she sighed. “Ms Berlick fired me, sir.” A wave of irritation surged through me. “Cindy fired you? For what reason?” Her gaze dropped to the
Michael’s POV The sharp sound of my office door opening pulled my attention from the report I was reviewing. My mother, Mrs Mahone, swept in without waiting for an invitation, her heels clicked against the marble floor with purpose. “Michael,” she said crisply, her voice tinged with that familiar mix of impatience and authority. “We need to talk.” I suppressed a sigh, leaning back in my chair. My mother rarely came by unannounced unless there was something weighing on her mind,something I was sure I wouldn’t want to hear. “Mother,” I said, keeping my tone neutral. “This is unexpected.” She crossed the room and sat in the chair opposite me, her posture was regal as ever. “It’s about the wedding,” she began, her sharp gaze locking onto mine. Ah. Of course. “You’ve been stalling,” she said, in an accusatory tone. “The engagement has been public for months, Michael. Yet here we are, with no date set, no plans made, and no progress whatsoever. What exactly are you waiting for