Chapter 4: Questions Left Unanswered

James Dalton’s Point of View

The door to the VIP room was still half-open when I spoke, my voice cutting through the silence.

“Where did you get the money?”

Sophia paused, her back to me as she stopped in her tracks. I could see the faint tension in her shoulders, the way her hand gripped the door handle. She turned around slowly, facing me once more, her expression cool and composed.

She wasn’t going to leave this room until I had answers.

I studied her closely. For two years, I’d given her a black card—a limitless resource she never used. Not once had there been a charge, a withdrawal, nothing. She was a stay-at-home wife, with no visible income of her own. And now, she shows up with $10 million in cash?

The Sophia In front of me wasn’t the same woman I had entered this marriage with. The soft-spoken, obedient girl who was barely more than a stranger had transformed into someone entirely different—a woman who now seemed to thrive on this newfound power. It was hard to ignore, even harder to comprehend.

She met my gaze, her voice steady. “It’s my own money, James.”

Her words were like a slap in the face. I didn’t show it, but my mind raced. Her own money? For two years, she’d barely left the house. There were no jobs, no investments, no activity of any kind. How could she amass this kind of wealth without me knowing?

I frowned, my mind going back to the contract marriage and everything that had transpired—or rather, everything that *hadn’t* transpired. I kept her at arm’s length for a reason. I had focused on my company, on expanding the Dalton empire, leaving her to her own devices. I never questioned her lack of spending, never thought much about her at all beyond the legalities of the contract.

And now I was beginning to regret that.

Sophia took a step forward, her hand outstretched toward me. “Let’s end this professionally, James. A clean break.” She offered me a handshake, her fingers lingering in the air between us.

I didn’t take it.

Instead, I crossed my arms and leaned back slightly, narrowing my eyes at her. “Why did you marry me, Sophia?”

Her expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes. Regret? Discomfort? It was hard to tell. She withdrew her hand, letting it fall to her side.

“For my grandmother,” she replied simply. Her voice didn’t waver, but I could sense the heaviness behind her words. “She was dying. She wanted to see me settled with someone successful. She wanted to believe I’d have a good life.”

I stared at her, trying to reconcile the woman in front of me with the one I’d married two years ago. All for her grandmother? I had known it was part of the deal, but the way she said it now, there was more to the story—more than just a sick, elderly woman’s wish.

For a brief moment, I felt something—maybe a twinge of guilt. But it was fleeting, swallowed up by my own irritation.

“So that’s it?” I asked, keeping my tone as cold as ever. “That’s why you agreed to this marriage?”

“Yes,” she replied bluntly. There was no trace of emotion in her voice, no second thoughts.

I felt the corners of my mouth tighten. “Well, you’ve certainly played the part of the obedient wife,” I said, my tone almost mocking. “But if you’re going to pay me alimony, make it worth my time. How about $20 million instead?”

I wasn’t serious—at least not entirely. The idea of me accepting alimony from anyone, let alone from Sophia, was absurd. But I was testing her, pushing to see how far she’d go. If she had the resources to pull off $10 million, I wanted to know exactly what she was capable of.

Sophia didn’t flinch. Instead, a soft laugh escaped her lips, surprising me. She reached for a glass of water on the table, took a sip, and left a perfect red lipstick mark on the rim.

“James, I think we both know I don’t owe you anything,” she said, setting the glass back down. “The $10 million is symbolic. It’s my way of showing that I don’t need you—or your money. I never have.”

There it was again—that confidence. That defiance. It was a far cry from the quiet, reserved woman I had married.

Before I could respond, she gave me a slight nod, as if that was all there was to say. “Goodbye, James.”

And with that, she turned and walked out of the room, leaving the suitcases of cash behind. I stood there, watching as the door closed behind her, the faint scent of her perfume still lingering in the air.

I didn’t move for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. It was supposed to be simple—sign the papers, exchange pleasantries, and move on with our lives. But instead, Sophia had left me with more questions than answers.

Ryan entered the room a few seconds later, his expression slightly confused as he glanced at the suitcases of cash.

“What just happened?” he asked, clearly bewildered by the scene he had missed.

I clenched my jaw, still staring at the door where Sophia had just left. “Where did she get the money?”

Ryan blinked, caught off guard by my tone. “What do you mean?”

“She’s never used the black card I gave her,” I said, my voice low and sharp. “For two years, there hasn’t been a single transaction. No spending, no withdrawals, nothing. And now she shows up with $10 million in cash? I want to know how she got it.”

Ryan frowned, clearly starting to understand the weight of the situation. “I’ll look into it.”

I nodded curtly. “I want every detail. Where she’s been, who she’s been in contact with, how she’s amassed that kind of money. I don’t care how long it takes—just find out.”

Ryan didn’t argue, and within seconds, he was on his phone, already making the necessary calls.

I ran a hand through my hair, frustration building in my chest. Sophia had always been a mystery to me, but I had never cared enough to solve it. She had been part of the deal—nothing more, nothing less. But now, it seemed like she had her own plans, her own secrets.

And for the first time in two years, I wanted to know exactly what they were.

I glanced back at the suitcases full of cash, sitting there on the table like a challenge. She didn’t want my money. She didn’t need my help. And that bothered me more than I cared to admit.

Sophia was slipping out of my grasp, and I didn’t like it.

Not one bit.