Chapter 91 All on Him

Chapter 91 All on Him

He tossed the blue dress onto the counter without a second thought, already reaching for the deep wine-red one.

"I told you, I don't need your interference." His smug certainty lit a fuse in me. My hand shot out, gripping his arm hard. "Allen, we're done."

"I just wanted to give you a gift, Sophia." He turned back, a flicker of pleading in his eyes. "Just... a gift between friends."

Friends?

I stared at the face I once loved down to the bone—now it felt like a cruel joke.

Before either of us moved, the cashier's voice cut through the tension, careful but pointed.

"Ma'am."

We both turned toward her.

She gestured to the computer screen, her smile polished and professional. "The wine-red dress you were looking at... it's already been paid for."

I blinked. "What?"

Allen's expression froze too.

"That's impossible." My voice came out sharp. "I haven't decided to buy it."

"It's true, Ms. Davis." She slid a printed receipt across the counter. The number—$22,000—glared back at me, payment status stamped in bold: Completed.

My mind went blank.

Who paid for it?

The cashier's next words landed with the weight of a stone in deep water. "This store is part of Mr. Russell's holdings. Any purchase you make here is automatically charged to him."

"Sophia..." Allen's voice yanked me back.

"So that's how he treats you?" His tone was low, dripping with condescending pity. "He cages you with money and expensive things, keeps you in a life where he calls every shot?"

Cage.

The word was sharper than any insult, cutting straight through my chest.

I lifted my chin. "This isn't your business."

I took the shopping bag with the wine-red dress, my movements crisp and final.

Then I stepped toward him.

Looking at the man I once adored and now despised to the core, I almost laughed. "Allen, you've been standing here watching me try on this dress for ten straight minutes."

His face changed instantly. "I was just—"

"You were just judging me. My choices, my life, everything. In your eyes, the blue gown is too understated, not enough to turn heads. The wine-red is your idea of the perfect girlfriend's color. You wanted to pay for it, not to give me a gift, but to prove you know me better than the man who actually has me."

His face drained from red to pale, and my anger finally found its release.

"You're wrong, Allen. You never knew me. You didn't then... and you sure as hell don't now."

I didn't spare him another glance. Bag in hand, heels striking sharp against the floor, I walked out of that suffocating boutique without looking back.

Lisa followed close behind, wide-eyed.

All I wanted was to get back to my suite—the only place that still felt safe.

Outside, night draped the ocean in black velvet.

I stood at the floor-to-ceiling window, a glass of red wine in hand, watching the horizon. A deep orange moon was climbing slowly into the sky.

Behind me, Lisa was buzzing like an overexcited stylist, laying out every piece of jewelry from my closet across the bed.

"Boss, these diamond earrings with that dress... perfection!"

"And this necklace—oh my God, is this a replica of the Tears of Poseidon?"

I didn't turn. I just took another slow sip.

The wine-red dress hung from the bedpost, silk catching the light like a dare whispered against my skin.

Wearing it would mean I wasn't refusing the date anymore... wasn't refusing his kind of arrangements. It would mean stepping willingly into the trap he had set. That trap had a name—Arthur.

"Boss?" Lisa's voice softened, picking up on my silence. "Are you upset?"

I shook my head and drained the last of my wine.

"Lisa, what do you think it's like... to fall in love with a devil?"

She froze. "I don't know... maybe like tasting the most exquisite poison in the world and convincing yourself you're immune."

I laughed.

Too accurate.

I set down my glass and, under her watchful eyes, walked toward the dress.

This wasn't surrender. It wasn't defeat.

It was courage—the breath before tasting the poison.

When his men blindfolded me and led me to the private helipad on the top deck of the yacht, I wasn't surprised.

Arthur loved to make his control tangible.

"Ms. Davis, we've arrived."

The blindfold came off.

Sea wind wrapped around me, carrying a mist of salt.

The sight stole my breath.

The entire helipad had been transformed into an open-air dining room under the stars.

White wool carpet stretched across the deck. Hundreds of candles flickered inside glass covers, arranged in a massive heart, their glow warm and golden.

A table stood draped in a pristine white cloth, set with fine silverware and fresh white roses.

And in the center of that candlelit heart... Arthur.

Gone was the cold armor of his suit. He wore a simple white linen shirt, sleeves rolled carelessly to the elbows, forearms strong and tan under the light.