Sofia Richards, the only daughter of the old billionaire James Richards is celebrating her 20th birthday out in town as her last billionaire wish. James got into dirty deals and has seen his fortune drawn under wrong investments. Wrong advice? Fake bills? Evil plot? All Sofia knows is that she is forced to marry Alex Holmes, the most desired Billionaire in town, in order to save her dad from jail or death. What happens when she realises that the one night stand she had on her birthday night is no other than her future husband's twin brother? When the love, attraction and secrets between them grow further into a secret relationship? What happens when this brother gets married and her ruthless husband discovers the relationship they had been entertaining?! How will Sofia cope with all this drama knowing that a baby is on the way and she doesn't know who the father might be? What about her father’s life? The contract? Things have turned out unpredictability and now what will Sofia do when her father tells her about true identity?
View MoreSofia's POV
"We have got a situation Sofia," I heard my father's voice echo as I stepped into his office, halting me in my tracks.
"I'm sure you've been well aware of everything that's been happening, haven't you?" He asked and I nodded, turning my attention to the man seated on one of the leather chairs in his office.
"I'm talking to you Sofia! This isn't the time to zone out," My father snapped, pulling my gaze back at him.
"Yes Papa, I'm sorry, I — I was just..."
"Enough," He said, stepping closer.
“That is Micheal Holmes, he's the one who'll be helping us out," my father explained, and I nodded with a smile, happy that the whole mess of the fire was finally coming to an end.
"She's a good one, James, she's perfect," Micheal Holmes said and I turned back to my father, unsure of the meaning of his words.
"What is he talking about papa?" I asked, stepping closer to my father.
"He agreed to help us under a condition," My father added, and I nodded, gulping nervously at the supposed condition.
"You've to marry my son Alex Holmes," the man said, and I darted a questioning look at my father. "This is a joke yeah? I mean that cannot even possibly happen," I blurted almost immediately.
"It is not a joke Sofia, that's the condition," My father added, stilling the forced laugh in my lips.
"A—wait...you cannot be serious about this," I said, turning to the faces in the room, but they stared deadpanned back at me.
"Get ready to sign the marriage certificate, we'll finalize it and once it's done and you will move to your husband's house," my father said, walking away from where he stood to meet Micheal.
"Father!" I yelled, feeling tears brim in my eyes. "You really want to pimp me out to these men? For what? Drugs? Money? Do you even..."
"Do you want me dead instead? Have those men I'm owning come after you and me? Aren't you happy with this beautiful life and heaven I've built for you Sofia?" My father retorted, forcing a bitter laugh from my lips.
"And you think, I ever cared about those men? You were the one who saw nothing else to do but sell drugs! How many fucking times did I warn you, Father, to find something else to do, you ruined fucking half of the lives of the people in this city!"
Pak!
My head spun from the intensity of my father hitting my face.
"I'm done with words Sofia, and just before you wag that mouth of yours, I want you to know that I brought you up with the money of those fucking drugs you claim to have taken the life of many, you are what you are now Sofia, because of those drugs! So now you do nothing but keep your mouth shut and sign the paper that'll be brought to you," My father said, motioning to the man beside him to head outside.
"Do you even know what day it is Dad?" I asked, stilling him in his steps.
"I don't care whatever day it is Sofia, I'm not going to be moved by anything you say, this deal must go on."
"It's my birthday Dad.." I whispered, the words trembling as they escaped me. My voice broke rising into a desperate yell.
"Today is my birthday Dad!" I yelled, sniffing in the tears that dripped down my eyes, with my chest heaving heavily to the strong weight of my emotions.
"It's bad enough that you didn't even remember my birthday, you're forcing me to get married to a man I know nothing about Dad..."
"Happy birthday Sofia," My father said, cutting in on my words. "Really?" I scoffed.
"Happy birthday? To me? It's a god-damned sad birthday, there's no fuckin happy thing about this birthday, it's the worst birthday of my life," I blurted, feeling the room spin, ripping air from my lungs, leaving me gasping heavily.
"I'm just twenty, just twenty Dad!" I yelled, feeling my head cloud inexplicably.
"Th- this isn't supposed to happen... please don't do this...to me," I begged until I felt my knees buckle and I collapsed onto the cold floor of my father's office. Pressing my palms flat against the floor, I tried to get back up but my strength failed, sending me back to the floor.
"Get up from the floor, Sofia," my father barked, standing over me, his expression cold and unyielding as steel. I couldn’t. My breath hitched, sharp, and shallow, each attempt to inhale leaving me feeling like I was drowning. My chest tightened, a crushing weight pressing down, and my trembling hands instinctively clutched at my chest.
"Papa..." I choked out, my voice barely a whisper, as if the words themselves struggled to break free from the suffocating hold on my lungs.
"Sofia," my father repeated, his tone sharp, but I couldn’t focus on his words. My vision blurred, tears mixing with the sweat slicking my face. My hands reached out, clawing at the air as though grasping for something—anything—to pull me back.
"Please... stop..." I rasped, the words broken, barely audible, but laced with every ounce of desperation I had left. My arms trembled, and I tried to lift myself, my fingers splayed against the ground, but my body refused to obey.
"You think this changes anything? His voice was sharp, but for a brief moment, I thought I could feel a flicker— a hesitation— in his voice.
His eyes darted away for a fraction of a second, just long enough for doubts to creep into my chest. But then his expression hardened like a mask snapping into place.
"Pretending with things like this is not going to undo the deal I've made with Micheal," he added, his tone much colder now as if he were convincing himself as much as me.
My lips parted as I tried to respond, but no sound came. The air refused to return to my lungs, and I sank further, my head resting against the floor as darkness began to creep into the edges of my vision.
"Someone get her up," my father ordered, his voice echoing faintly, as if from a great distance. The weight in my chest tightened further, and the echo of his retreating footsteps as he walked away from me, distant and indifferent, as if I was nothing more than a burden he couldn't wait to get rid of. My breath got thicker and darkness filled the room.
Sophia’s POVThe pool water didn’t ripple. It sat still and quiet, like it understood the silence I needed. I hadn’t spoken much in the last two days. Words felt too sharp for my throat, too heavy for the air. So I came here, just after sunrise, barefoot in my robe, hair still tangled from restless sleep. My body ached in places I couldn’t touch. And my heart... it had gone silent. But not empty.I sat on the edge, knees pulled to my chest, arms wrapped around them. The tiles were cold beneath me, but not colder than the hollowness inside. It wasn’t the kind of pain that made you scream. It was the kind that made your chest feel full of water, like you could drown without ever taking a breath.Two days. That’s all it had been since the official announcement that he was getting married. That everything between us—every whisper, every kiss, every trembling breath—was nothing more than a lustful play between two lost souls, a bandage for all the wounds I got in the mansion, a sad story t
Sophia's POV The grand chandelier flickered with a strange kind of coldness that night. It lit the parlor like a stage, a cruel stage, and I sat there, straight-backed and silent, next to Zack with my fingers interlaced tightly in my lap so no one would see them shake. The room smelled of fake, old money, and silent tension. Mr. Holmes was standing by the fireplace, a glass of Johnny Walker in hand, posture strong and polished like always—his words always heavy before they even left his mouth."I wanted us all here tonight," he began, eyeing each one of us, his gaze pausing just long enough on Zack, then Alex, then me. "Because it's time we stop dragging this family into chaos and scandal."Alex leaned back in the velvet armchair, his arm tossed over the side like a bored prince. Leyla sat nearby, legs crossed, her lips forming a faint smirk. Zack didn't move beside me. I didn’t look at him.Mr. Holmes lifted his glass slightly."As of next week, Zack will be engaged to Stacy Balmar,
Sophia's POVThe morning light crept through the half-drawn curtains like it was afraid to touch us. Pale gold. Still. Quiet. The air was thick with the weight of the night before, still heavy with skin and sweat and all the words we didn’t dare say out loud.I woke up to Zack’s heartbeat beneath my cheek. His chest rose and fell slowly, rhythmically, and his arm was curled tightly around my back, holding me like I was something he couldn’t let go of, well....not yet. Hopefully not ever.I kept my eyes closed, afraid that opening them would shatter whatever fragile piece of peace we’d found in each other’s arms.Last night, we had made love like we were both drowning. Like the world would rip us apart the moment we let go. Our lips had met in desperation, not romance. There was hunger in his touch, pain in every gasp. And love. God, the love. I must admit I pushed him a little bit too high. I broke all the inner boundaries for him and played up on him, pleasuring him teasingly until
Zack's POVShe groaned hungrily with my dick in her mouth, devouring every inch satisfyingly. I felt it, all the tension, all the passion and frustration compressed in her guts, yearning out the disastrous envy of being mine again. She started slow and soft, caressing the tip with her tongue, showering shivers through my spine. She knew what she was doing, and she loved doing it. Taking in only the tip, slowly with hot pressure from her mouth before engulfing the rest of me. Ecstasy ran through my veins as I cummed in her mouth. She swallowed, every bit, every drop. She wasn't like the usual soft and passionate Sophia, she was hungry, the devil lying in her eyes, craving and claiming me as her property, exciting me more again. I had to stop, I had to let go of these thoughts and this sinful desire. But I couldn't.... I was too weak, too high, and drunk in love for this. We had to consume this love, this burning fire, these dark thoughts. I should tell her about the marriage,.... but
Zack's POV My heart felt heavy and air clung up to my lungs as narrowed filter. I left the dinning room fast and got into my car. I drove off, no destination, no objectif, no thoughts, I just wanted to get away. Black out for a night and hit the car on a tree miles away hometown. I felt disgusted about myself, cowardly giving in to the little threats of my father like a child. She should be so ashamed of me, so hurt by me! How could she possibly ever look me again in the eye. I drove so fast my consciousness almost fucked off.I was BrokenI was dark, buried and bruised. How could I get married When all I wanted is you? I was lost, damaged and still broken inside,Trying to bury that love I just couldn't provide. Under other circumstances, I would drove mad to Helene and just sleep by her side while she caressed my back and neck. What an Irony that now her love for me killed her but now I'm marrying a complete stranger. Fair well my dad found zara and engaged maids to look after her
Sophia’s POV I woke up to the sterile scent of antiseptic and the faint beeping of machines. My head ached, my back screamed, and my stomach tortured me in pain. My limbs hurt and my whole body resonated in pain like I got hit by a truck.I blinked against the white light overhead, trying to place myself in reality. A hospital. The blank walls. The nurse’s quiet shuffle just beyond the curtain. My arm, heavy with IVs. Bandages.Then the memory crashed into me.Leyla. The staircase. Her voice. Her rage and determination to get over me. Her hands on me. My body, tumbling like a ragdoll down those polished marble steps. The look in her eyes as I fell — no shock, no regret, Cold resolve with a smirk of satisfaction.I gasped and sat up too quickly. Pain surged in my ribs and the nurse rushed in.“Miss Holmes," I threw a deadly glare at her side as that name irritated my senses, "I mean, Sophia,” she corrected gently. “Easy. You've had a concussion, some bruised ribs, and shoulder trauma
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