The smell of freshly brewed coffee mixes with the constant noise that already fills the diner. Another day begins, where I, with my inseparable worn apron, force a smile on my face. I haven’t had many opportunities in my life, so I’ve resigned myself to taking what comes and smiling, even if the world is crumbling at my feet."Table three, Sophia!" shouts Charlie, the manager, from behind a towering stack of plates she balances with precise movements."I'm on it!" I reply, grabbing another tray loaded with sandwiches, hot coffee, and muffins.The in-and-out of people is relentless. Some mumble a good morning; others don’t even notice my presence. After all, to most of them, I’m just here to serve. But that’s okay. I know I’m more than that. I’m a daughter fighting to give my family some comfort and juggling to keep them togetherdespite my mother… I sigh without realizing it. Also, an older sister trying to give my younger brother a better future than mine, even though he doesn’t seem
As soon as the door closes, the silence of my office returns like an old companion. The same calculated stillness that has always accompanied me. I usually enjoy it. I prefer controlled, predictable environments where all variables are under my command.But today, for some irritating reason, my mind refuses to return to equilibrium.Sophia Carter.The girl left my office the same way she entered: with her head held high, even though her world is crumbling on her shoulders. She didn’t beg. She didn’t bargain. She didn’t cry. She simply stood her ground, holding my gaze until the very last second. But she doesn’t fool me. Women are always after something: money, status, power. There’s always a hidden motivation, a carefully adjusted mask on their faces.I shove my hands into my pockets and walk to the window, observing the city below. Everything looks small, insignificant. People rushing from one place to another, trying to survive in a concrete jungle that doesn’t forgive weakness. New
The way back home is a blur of streets, buildings, and anonymous faces. My feet move forward almost automatically while my mind remains trapped in that cold office, where everything seemed to transform into something I can’t name.Alexander Hawthorne.I knew he’d be intimidating. There’s no way a man with his reputation wouldn’t be. The ruthless magnate, the heir who built an empire with his own handsor at least that’s what they say. A man many would call untouchable, unapproachable.But no story, no rumor, no financial magazine article could have prepared me for him in person.Tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a perfectly tailored suit that seemed molded directly to his body. A sculpted face, striking features, eyes as cold as the ice that seemed to run through his veins.And yet...He’s beautiful in a way that unsettles me. Not just because of his physical appearance, but because of his presence. Alexander Hawthorne fills the space with a quiet strength, with an authority that demands
The early hours of the morning brought a strange mixture of relief and anguish. After hours of tossing and turning in bed, staring at the ceiling of the small room we had to move into after losing everything because of my father’s mistakes, I made a decision.I will not accept Alexander Hawthorne’s proposal.The idea seemed simple at first. One year. A cold contract, no emotional involvement. Just an exchange of favors: he clears my father’s debts, and in return, I become the convenient wife he needs to uphold his empire.But as the hours passed and the silence of the night became deafening, I realized what it would truly mean.I would lose the little I have left of myself. My dignity. My freedom.I can’t sell myself, even if it means ending the weight that suffocates me. Something within me needs to remain intact, even if it’s just my dignity.That’s why, by morning, as I left the house, I was certain of my decision.But it only took a few minutes in my mother’s presence for that cer
I’m back at the building where it all began.The skyscraper of Hawthorne Corp rises before me, an imposing structure that seems to swallow the sky. Its mirrored facade reflects my pale face and the tension in my eyes. I should feel confident, strong for being here again.But the truth is, I’m terrified.My mother’s words echo in my mind since leaving the hospital: “Fix it. No matter how.”And here I am, ready to sell my dignity, my freedom, in exchange for her survival.I step into the building with hesitant steps, the sound of my shoes echoing in the luxurious lobby. The atmosphere is cold and elegant, just like him. Every detail is perfectly arranged, with no room for mistakes or imperfections.I’m announced at the reception desk, and soon an assistant guides me to the private elevator leading to the top floor. My hands are trembling, but I clench them into fists, trying to control my anxiety.When the elevator doors open, I’m greeted by the oppressive silence of Alexander Hawthorne
The wedding day arrived before I could decide whether I was truly strong enough for this.Through the bedroom mirror, I gaze silently at my reflection. The white dress is elegant but understated, without extravagance. I chose something that wouldn’t draw attention, exactly as Alexander suggested. For him, everything must be perfect, functional, leaving no room for unnecessary emotions.My heart feels heavy. This should be a significant day, but there’s no joy, no hope. It’s a contracta cold transaction I’m signing to save my mother and support my brother.My brother…I take a deep breath, trying to push the thought away. Leo doesn’t know about the wedding. Neither does my mother.I didn’t tell them because I know exactly how they’d react. My mother would pressure me to get the most out of this marriage, treating me like a bargaining chip. Leo would see it as an opportunity to live even more comfortably, without lifting a finger.That’s why I decided to keep this a secret.When I left
The night drags on, slow and suffocating. The silence in Alexander’s penthouse is so heavy that every soundthe ticking of the clock, the rhythm of my own breathingfeels amplified.After what I witnessed, my heart is restless. It shouldn’t matter, but it does. It shouldn’t hurt, but it does.Alexander is with another woman. I heard muffled laughter, saw the intimate touch. I don’t know what I was expecting. He made it clear from the start that this marriage was nothing more than a contract. A cold agreement, with no room for emotional involvement.But the scene shook me more than I’m willing to admit.Without thinking too much, I get out of bed. I need to talk to him. Ask. Confront him, even though I have no right.Barefoot, I cross the cold floor of the penthouse to the hallway leading to his office. The light is on, but the door is now closed. I hesitate for a moment before raising my hand and knocking.“Come in.”Alexander’s voice is low but firm. There’s no hesitation.I take a dee
The morning is gray, and the soft sound of rain against the penthouse windows only amplifies the emptiness I’ve felt since last night.After the confrontation with Alexander, my sleep was restless. The tension between us, the almost kiss that never happened, and the words he left hanging in the air won’t leave me alone.I get out of bed with a heavy sigh, determined to occupy my mind with something else. I refuse to get stuck in this cycle of thoughts.The house is massive, cold, and empty, just like Alexander. The silence is suffocating, but today I decide to explore it. Maybe it will distract me. Maybe I’ll understand the man I married a little better.Every room I walk through seems meticulously planned, with no space for anything personal. Nothing reveals who Alexander truly is. Just elegant, impeccable, but impersonal decor.Until I find a door at the end of the hallway.It’s slightly ajar, revealing a room that feels different from the rest of the house. I approach slowly, hesit
SophiaThe afternoon sun softly filters through the large windows, bathing the living room in a golden light. I’m sitting on the couch with a book open on my lap, but I can’t focus on the words. I’ve tried to write as well, but nothing comes to mind. My fingers slide instinctively over my belly, trying to soothe the anxiety that never seems to fully vanish.Alexander left early for a series of important meetings. I told him to go without worry, assuring him I’d be fine. And I am. At least, I was until now.The intercom rings, breaking the silence. I stand up slowly and walk to the device.“Mrs. Hawthorne?” The doorman’s hesitant voice comes through. “There’s a woman here saying she’d like to speak with you. She introduced herself as Olivia Sinclair.”My heart stops for a second. Olivia.“She said she’s here in… peace,” the doorman quickly adds.Part of me screams to send her away. To not let her set foot here again. But another, more rational part believes that maybe she truly has com
SophiaThe afternoon sun softly filters through the wide windows, bathing the living room in a golden light. I’m sitting on the couch, with a book open on my lap, but I can’t focus on the words. I also tried writing, but nothing comes to mind. My fingers instinctively move over my belly, trying to calm the anxiety that never fully goes away.Alexander left early for a series of important meetings. I told him to go without worrying, assuring him I would be fine. And I am. At least, I was until now.The intercom rings, breaking the silence. I get up slowly and walk over to the device.“Mrs. Hawthorne?” The doorman’s hesitant voice comes through. “There’s a woman here saying she wants to speak with you. She introduced herself as Olivia Sinclair.”My heart stops for a second. Olivia.“She said she’s here in… peace,” the doorman adds quickly.Part of me screams to send her away. Not to let her set foot inside here again. But another part, more rational, thinks maybe she really has come to
Chapter 44 – ConfrontationSophiaThe silence in the penthouse is almost comforting. For the first time in weeks, I feel like I can breathe without the weight of the world crushing my chest. I’m sitting on the couch, holding a cup of hot tea in my hands, while Alexander works in the next room. He insists that I rest, but my mind won’t stop. I’m still getting used to being back here, to the familiar smell of this place, to the memories it holds.I place one hand on my belly and close my eyes. There are two of them. Two little hearts beating inside me. The responsibility scares me, but it also gives me the strength to keep going.The sound of the doorbell echoes through the living room, and my tranquility vanishes like smoke.“I’ll get it!” I call out, before one of the security guards can interfere.I walk over to the door and open it, but I regret it the instant I do.Leo.He’s there, his face flushed, his eyes red with anger and perhaps something else. Alcohol? He looks different, mo
Chapter 43 – Between Wounds and PromisesSophiaAlexander stands in the middle of my tiny living room, a displaced figure in this cramped and simple space. He looks like a giant in a world not made for him. His broad shoulders slump, his eyes are tired, and there is a weight of guilt so heavy on him that I can almost touch it.I cross my arms over my chest, more out of instinct for self-protection than anything else. My belly is already starting to show under my loose T-shirt, and I feel an extra burden as I try to stand firm before him.“So you needed proof, Alexander,” I say, my voice coming out firmer than I expected. “You needed to investigate, seek documents, confront people… to believe me. When from the start it was so obvious who was behind everything.”He lowers his head, his shoulders drooping even further. The image of the powerful, relentless man he has always been crumbles before my eyes.“Sophia, I…” He lifts his head, and his blue eyes meet mine, filled with regret. “I w
SophiaThe sound of dishes clattering echoes through the small café kitchen. Steam rises from the pans, and the heavy aroma of grease mingles with the sweet scent of freshly brewed coffee. My white T-shirt, already tight due to my growing belly, is smeared with tomato sauce, but I barely notice. My fingers tremble as I try to balance two cups of coffee and a tray of pie slices."Sophia! Table three has been waiting for five minutes!" shouts my boss, Mr. Garret, a man in his fifties with a thick mustache and a stern look."I'm coming!" I reply, trying to keep my voice steady.Sweat drips down the back of my neck as I weave between the cramped tables, a practiced smile plastered on my face. With every step, I feel the tension in my belly beneath the apron. I'm only a few weeks along, but it already feels like I'm carrying a heavy weight. Maybe it’s the worry. Maybe it’s the fear.Earlier today, before my shift started, I went to the doctor for a routine ultrasound. The doctor's words st
AlexanderThe silence in the penthouse is deafening. The panoramic windows reveal the city outside, bright and bustling, but inside everything feels stagnant, dead. My only company is the echo of my own thoughts and the nearly empty whiskey bottle beside me.Every sip that burns down my throat feels like acid, but not enough to erase the image of Sophia walking away, her eyes filled with tears and her voice breaking as she said, "I know this baby is yours. Even if any damned test says otherwise."Those words haunt me. They’ve clung to my skin like scars that will never fade.The ultrasound she left on the bed is now in my hand. The blurred image of the small being who was supposed to be our child consumes me from the inside out. I close my eyes and press my forehead against the cold paper. I failed her. I failed the baby. I failed myself.A soft knock on the door interrupts my torment."Alexander?" It’s Dominic. His voice is full of caution but also firm."Go away, Dominic," I say, my
SophiaThe result is still engraved in my mind, like an immutable sentence that echoes endlessly. The cold, direct words on the paper, followed by Alexander's devastated look, still burn on my skin like a branding iron."Another mistake, Sophia? In how many of these mistakes will you be the innocent one?"Each syllable was a blow. Each pause, a knife digging deeper into my chest. I never, never had been with another man besides him after we got married. But now, doubt has poisoned everything we built, and there's nothing more I can do to convince him otherwise.My fingers tremble as I close the zipper of my suitcase for the last time. The room that was once my refuge now feels like a prison. The walls oppress me, the scent of his perfume is still on the pillow, on the clothes, in every corner of this space that, for a brief moment, was our home.A tear runs down my face as I look around one last time. It's funny how, in just a few seconds, a place can transform from a home into a fare
AlexanderThe white envelope rests on the coffee table like a bomb about to explode. The edges are slightly crumpled, reflecting the weight of what they carry. Dominic stands beside me, but he says nothing. The silence in the room feels almost physical—thick, suffocating.My hands tremble as I break the seal and pull out the DNA test results. My heart pounds in my chest, my lungs can’t seem to draw in enough air. Every printed letter on the paper seems to glow under the cold light of the desk lamp.Negative result. There is no genetic compatibility between Alexander Hawthorne and the fetus in question.The words pierce my chest like daggers. For a moment, the world around me goes silent. Dominic mutters something I can’t catch. My vision blurs, my mind struggles to process the brutal reality stamped on the paper."Alexander…" Dominic tries to speak again, but I raise my hand, cutting him off."Leave," I say, my voice rough and broken.He hesitates but obeys, leaving the office and clo
AlexanderThe days following the hospital visit pass like a blur of meticulously planned routine. Every morning, I wake up early and ensure Sophia has everything she needs. Breakfast is carefully prepared, following the nutritionist’s recommendations, and I personally deliver it on a tray, with a rose on the side, every single morning.Sophia looks paler than usual, but her eyes seem lighter. She’s spent so much time carrying the burden of Olivia’s lies, Eleanor’s manipulations, and, above all, the weight of my own doubts. Now, my priority is to ensure nothing else hurts her.Today, I enter the room with the tray while she’s sitting in the armchair near the window, a laptop on her lap. The soft morning sunlight bathes her face, and for a moment, I stop to admire the scene."Good morning," I say softly.Sophia lifts her gaze and gives me a shy smile."Good morning."I set the tray on the side table next to her."I hope you're hungry. I made sure they prepared something light but nutrit