Chapter Three

The Perfect Stranger

Sophia’s heels clicked against the empty street, her breath sharp and ragged, each step echoing in the hollow night. She wasn’t running fast enough. No matter how hard she tried, the humiliation clung to her like a second skin—unshakable, suffocating. Her chest burned, a deep, gnawing pain that refused to fade, the cold wind cutting against her tear-streaked face doing nothing to soothe it.

The images from her ruined wedding flashed in her mind, each one more painful than the last. Ryan’s betrayal. His smug grin. Emma’s guilt-laced eyes. The whispers of the guests, the pitiful looks they threw her way. She couldn’t stand it. She had nowhere to go, no one to turn to. She was utterly alone.

Up ahead, a neon sign flickered—Club Eclipse, its gaudy pink glow buzzing in the darkness like a bad omen. She had heard of it before, but she had never once thought of going inside. Not until now. Tonight, oblivion seemed like the only escape. The noise, the crowd, the alcohol—anything to drown out the torment swirling inside her.

Stumbling into the club, Sophia blinked against the onslaught of flashing lights and blaring music. The heavy bass thudded through her, vibrating in her bones, drowning out her thoughts. Bodies moved in a chaotic rhythm on the dance floor, anonymous in the dim light. She pushed her way to the bar, gripping the edge of the counter as if it were the only solid thing in her spinning world.

“I need a drink,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper, lost in the pounding music.

The bartender, a young man with tired eyes, took one look at her and slid a glass across the counter. “Rough night?” he asked, his voice soft with concern.

Sophia let out a hollow, bitter laugh. “You could say that,” she muttered before throwing the drink back in one gulp. The alcohol scorched her throat, but it was a welcome distraction—a burn that, for a moment, matched the fire in her chest.

She slammed the glass down, signaling for another, and another, until the pain began to blur into the background, lost in the numbing haze of alcohol. Faces swirled around her—men leaning too close, their breath reeking of whiskey and desperation. She ignored them all. Their words, slurred and meaningless, washed over her, barely registering.

At the Vanderbilt mansion, the atmosphere was tense. Lucas Vanderbilt sat at the long, polished dining table, his jaw clenched, knuckles white as he gripped the armrests of his chair. His father’s voice, sharp and commanding, droned on, the words grating against Lucas’s already frayed nerves.

“Lucas,” Edward Vanderbilt’s voice was like a hammer striking stone, “it’s time you stopped wasting your life and started thinking about the family. Your responsibilities. The future of this company rests on your shoulders.”

Lucas leaned back, a sarcastic smile curling his lips. “Oh, I see. You want me to settle down. Find a wife. Pop out a few kids to secure the ‘legacy,’ right? That’s the grand plan?”

His older brother, Mark, snickered from across the table, his smirk infuriatingly smug. “You’ve had your fun, little brother. Time to grow up and be a man.”

Lucas shot Mark a glare that could cut glass. “Spare me your sanctimony, Mark. You’ve always been Father’s lapdog.”

Edward’s voice cut through their bickering, colder than ice. “This isn’t about you, Lucas. This is about the company, the family. Whoever has a male heir first will inherit the business and all that comes with it. You want to prove you’re capable of running this empire? Show me you can be responsible. Show me you can create a legacy.”

Lucas’s face darkened, his fists clenched under the table. “So, it’s a competition now? You’re pitting us against each other like we’re racing dogs?”

Mark leaned forward, his grin widening. “I already have a head start, little brother. Got a serious fiancée. Looks like I’m going to win.”

Lucas felt rage boiling under his skin. “This is insane,” he muttered. “I don’t need a wife or a kid to prove myself.”

His mother, Claudia, spoke softly, but her eyes held the same cold calculation as his father’s. “We’re only thinking of what’s best for you, Lucas. This is how it’s always been. It’s how it will be.”

Lucas shoved his chair back, the sound screeching through the tense silence. “If this is your idea of what’s best, then I want no part of it.” He snatched his coat and stormed out of the dining room, fury driving each step. Pulling out his phone, his fingers shook with anger as he dialed Darren, his closest friend.

“Meet me at Club Eclipse,” Lucas barked into the phone. “I need to blow off some steam.”

The night had descended into a blur of noise, lights, and alcohol. Sophia’s fingers drummed against her empty glass as she swayed slightly at the bar. The music pulsed through her, numbing her senses, making her feel disconnected from her own body.

“Hey there, beautiful,” a voice slurred in her ear. A hand brushed her arm, unwelcome and persistent. She flinched but didn’t look up, her eyes glazed and distant.

“Come on,” the man insisted, his breath hot and foul. “Just one dance. You look like you need it.”

Sophia yanked her arm away, her temper fraying. “Not interested,” she snapped, her voice sharper than she intended. But the man didn’t back off. He grabbed her wrist, pulling her toward the dance floor.

Before she could push him away, a shadow fell across them. Lucas had entered the club, his face set in a storm of emotions. He saw the man gripping Sophia’s arm and strode over, his anger igniting.

“I think she said she wasn’t interested,” Lucas’s voice was low, dangerous, cutting through the noise like a blade.

The man turned to face Lucas, his drunken bravado faltering. He sneered but took a step back, raising his hands. “Alright, man. Chill. I’m going.”

Lucas watched him slink away before turning to Sophia, who was still leaning heavily against the bar, her eyes unfocused. “You okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, though his gaze still burned with intensity.

Sophia blinked up at him, her vision swimming. “Thanks,” she mumbled, her words thick with alcohol. For the first time that night, she really looked at him—his strong jaw, the tension in his shoulders, the way his eyes seemed to hold a quiet storm of their own.

“You look like you’ve had a rough night,” Lucas remarked, his lips twitching into a faint, humorless smile.

Sophia let out a bitter laugh, the sound harsh. “You have no idea.”

Something in her tone caught Lucas’s attention. He could see the pain etched deep in her eyes, a mirror of the same darkness gnawing at his insides. Without thinking, he reached for his drink and downed it, the alcohol burning away the edge of his anger.

“I could use some fun,” Sophia slurred, her eyes locking onto his with a sudden, reckless intensity. “What about you?”

Lucas hesitated, reading the desperation in her gaze. For a moment, he thought about walking away. But then, with a resigned sigh, he nodded. “Yeah,” he said, his voice rough. “Why the hell not?”

Sophia grabbed his hand, leading him toward the back exit without another word. They stumbled into the cool night air, her laughter echoing faintly in the empty street as they made their way to a nearby hotel. There was no hesitation in her movements as they entered the room, no second thoughts.

Clothes were discarded in a frenzy, and soon, the world outside vanished, leaving only the storm of their bodies entangled in desperation.

Sophia woke with a start, her heart racing. The sunlight filtering through the curtains was too bright, too harsh against her pounding headache. She groaned, burying her face in her hands as fragments of the night before began to surface.

She glanced to her side and froze. There, beside her, was Lucas. His dark hair was tousled, his bare chest rising and falling in the soft rhythm of sleep. Her pulse quickened as reality came crashing down around her.

“Oh God,” she muttered, sitting up too quickly. Her dress hung loosely on her shoulders, a wrinkled reminder of the chaos she had created. Her head throbbed, but the panic clawing at her chest was far worse.

She needed to get out of here.

Spotting her purse on the dresser, she scrambled out of bed, careful not to wake him. Her hands shook as she fumbled through her bag, pulling out a few bills and scribbling a note: “Sorry about last night. Drinks on me. – S.”

Sophia placed the money and

 note on the nightstand, glancing one last time at Lucas. There was something about him—something that made her hesitate. But she pushed the thought away. She didn’t have time to think about him. She needed to escape.

Lucas stirred, the sunlight warm against his face. His eyes opened slowly, his body still heavy with sleep. But as he rolled over, he realized the bed beside him was empty. His brows furrowed in confusion. Then he saw it—a note and some cash on the nightstand.

He picked it up, reading the words with a bemused smirk. "Sorry about last night. Drinks on me. – "

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “That’s a new one.”

As he sat up, his mind drifted to the woman from the club, the one who had stared at him with eyes full of pain and defiance. He hadn’t even asked her name. But now, he couldn’t stop wondering who she was.

Sophia wandered the city streets, the cold morning air biting at her skin. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess of regret, anger, and a growing sense of despair. She found herself at the edge of a bridge, the deep river rushing below, the current pulling her gaze like a magnet.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she walked toward the middle of the bridge, staring down at the swirling waters. The thought flickered in her mind—a way to escape. To end the pain.

She stepped closer to the edge, her breath catching in her throat. Her mind screamed, but the pull was stronger. She gripped the cold metal railing, her fingers trembling.

And then, without hesitation, she stepped forward and leapt.

The cold water swallowed her whole.

Sophia's body hit the water with a deafening silence, the world above vanishing in an instant. The icy cold enveloped her, dragging her down, deeper and deeper into the abyss.

Was this the end? Or the beginning of something darker?