Chapter 32

Cecilia

The party had shifted into that comfortable hum of successful socializing—champagne flowing, laughter rising and falling like waves, the string quartet transitioning into something jazzy and upbeat.

Catherine Ashford had drifted away to greet other guests, leaving Arthur and me standing near the French doors that opened onto the garden.

"You holding up okay?" Arthur murmured, his hand still resting possessively on my waist.

"Better than I expected," I admitted. "Though your mother—"

"Is a problem for another day." His jaw tightened. "Let's not waste energy on her right now."

Before I could respond, Sophia appeared at my elbow, her smile warm but slightly strained in that way that suggested she'd been playing hostess for hours and was running on fumes.

"Cecilia," she said, touching my arm lightly. "Do you mind if I steal you for a bit? I need a break from all this, and I figured you might too."

I glanced at Arthur, who nodded slightly. "Go ahead. I'll catch up with Carter."

"Come on," Sophia said, linking her arm through mine in a gesture that felt surprisingly genuine. "There's a sitting room upstairs that's blissfully quiet. I've been hiding there between rounds of greeting people."

The sitting room she led me to was smaller than I'd expected, decorated in soft creams and blues, with a bay window overlooking the gardens.

"God, that's better," Sophia said, sinking onto a velvet settee and kicking off her heels. "Don't get me wrong, I love Carter, but sometimes these things are exhausting."

I settled into an armchair across from her, studying her more carefully now that we were alone. Up close, the polish was still there, but I could see the tiredness around her eyes, the slight tension in her shoulders.

"You did a beautiful job with everything," I offered.

"Thanks." She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Carter's mother helped a lot. She has very specific ideas about what an engagement party should look like."

"I bet."

For a moment, we sat in comfortable silence. Then Sophia leaned forward, her expression shifting into something more serious.

"Can I tell you something?" she asked. "And I mean really tell you, not the polite party conversation version."

I nodded, curious despite myself.

"Everyone thinks this is an arranged marriage," she said quietly. "Old money marrying old money, families aligning their interests, all that bullshit. And yeah, that's part of it. But what they don't know is that I actually love him."

The admission hung in the air between us. I found myself leaning forward too, drawn in by the unexpected vulnerability.

"Carter and I met in college," she continued, her voice taking on a distant quality, like she was looking back through time. "I was a sophomore, he was a senior. And I was being bullied."

"Bullied?" I couldn't hide my surprise. Sophia seemed like the last person who'd be a target.

"Hard to believe, right?" Her laugh was bitter. "But when you're pretty and smart and come from money, there are always people who resent that. A group of girls—jealous, I guess—they made my life hell. Spreading rumors, excluding me from everything, the usual mean girl playbook."

She paused, her fingers twisting together in her lap.

"One day, they cornered me. Locked me in this tiny storage room in the arts building. It was dark and I was claustrophobic and I was crying so hard I could barely breathe. And then Carter found me."

Her expression softened, the tension easing from her features.

"He was back on campus visiting a professor, and he heard me. Broke the lock and got me out. Stayed with me until I calmed down, didn't ask questions, didn't judge. He was just... there. And from that moment, I knew he was the one."

I felt my chest tighten with unexpected emotion. "That's... actually really sweet."

"Yeah." She smiled, genuine this time. "So when our families started talking about an alliance, I was thrilled. I get to marry the man I love and make everyone happy. Win-win, right?"

"Right," I said, though something in her tone made me uneasy.

Sophia's gaze sharpened, focusing on me with sudden intensity. "So for people like us," she said slowly, "family background and love—it's best when you can have both, don't you think?"

The shift was subtle but unmistakable. I felt my spine straighten, my guard going up.

"What do you mean, 'people like us'?" I asked carefully.

Her smile didn't waver, but something flickered in her eyes. "Oh, you know. Young women trying to navigate this world. It's easier when you have both love and legitimacy backing you up."

Was she implying I didn't have legitimacy? That my family background wasn't good enough?

I stared at her, trying to read the subtext, but her expression remained pleasant, almost friendly.

"There's something else I wanted to tell you," Sophia continued, as if we were still sharing confidences. "In those painful days of being bullied, I had one friend who always stayed by my side. Her name is Madison Hartley."

Hartley. The name registered immediately. The Hartley family was old money East Coast, their wealth and influence rivaling the Ashfords'. I'd heard the name mentioned in passing at Winston Corporation events.

"Madison is..." Sophia paused, choosing her words carefully. "If Carter is the man I love most in the world, then Madison is the woman I love most. She's my best friend, my sister in everything but blood. And I would do anything to make her happy."

The way she said it sent a chill down my spine. There was something possessive in her tone, something almost threatening beneath the surface sweetness.

"That's nice," I said neutrally, refusing to show any reaction. "Friendship like that is rare."

"It is." Sophia's smile widened. "So when Madison wants something, I make it my mission to help her get it. No matter what."

I met her gaze steadily, refusing to blink first. "And what does Madison want?"