Chapter 18
Sophia’s POV:
It was well past one o’clock in the morning, and any hope of sleep seemed like a distant memory. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the shadows shifting faintly as moonlight seeped through the curtains. The house's quiet was almost oppressive, amplifying the hum of my restless thoughts. My stomach gave a low growl, a sharp reminder that I hadn’t eaten much earlier. I’d hoped to sleep through the night and push through the unease, but clearly, that wasn’t going to happen.
With a heavy sigh, I turned my head toward the door. Was Dominic already asleep? He hadn’t come into the room, so I assumed he must have gone to the guest room next door. A fleeting thought crossed my mind—was he still awake? But I quickly dismissed it.
"He’s probably asleep," I muttered to myself. Shaking off the thought, I sat up and stretched, the silence of the house wrapping around me like a suffocating blanket. The darkness was thick, not a single light on, making the whole place feel eerily still.
Sliding out from under the covers, I padded barefoot across the cool floor and made my way downstairs. Each step felt deliberate in the quiet, the sound of my movements loud in contrast to the stillness. When I entered the kitchen, the soft glow of the overhead light felt blinding at first, but I welcomed the sense of normalcy it brought. Opening the fridge, I scanned the shelves stocked with food but found myself uninterested. Nothing looked appealing, and my hunger seemed more like a hollow distraction than a true craving.
Then my eyes landed on a packet of Maggi noodles tucked in the corner of the pantry. Simple, comforting. "This will do," I whispered to myself, pulling it out and setting a pot of water to boil on the stove. The soft hiss of the water heating filled the silence, a small reprieve from the weight of my thoughts. The routine of it all—the packet crinkling in my hand, the spoon clinking against the pot—offered a strange comfort.
But just as I began to feel the faintest sense of calm, a voice broke through the silence, startling me so badly that I almost dropped the spoon.
"Make for me too."
I froze. My heart slammed against my ribcage as I turned sharply, gripping the spoon like a lifeline. Dominic. His voice was unmistakable, low and steady, yet laced with an edge that always seemed to unnerve me. He stood there in the doorway, his arms casually crossed, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
"What are you doing here?" I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended, the emotions of the past few weeks bubbling to the surface.
"You think you can just waltz in and demand things from me? Just because you dragged me into your life doesn’t mean I’m going to act like some obedient servant!" My hands shook slightly as I glared at him.
"You’re dreaming, Dominic. I’m not making you anything, and I’m definitely not here to serve you." He didn’t flinch. If anything, his expression didn’t change at all. That infuriatingly calm, cold demeanor of his only made my frustration grow. He shrugged, his voice maddeningly indifferent. "Okay."
The single word, so casual, so dismissive, felt like a slap. My teeth clenched as I struggled to rein in my rising anger.
"What do you want from me?" I demanded, my voice trembling slightly, though whether it was from anger or exhaustion, I couldn’t tell. He took a step forward, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine.
"Let’s make a deal," he said smoothly, his voice carrying an air of authority that was impossible to ignore. I crossed my arms, defiant.
"I don’t want any deals with you.” His eyes narrowed slightly, his tone growing more commanding.
"Don’t interrupt. Listen first." Something about his tone made my heart race, though I hated myself for the reaction.
"What is it this time?" I muttered under my breath, more to myself than to him. He stepped closer, the air between us thick with tension. His voice dropped, low and deliberate.
"I’ll give you two hundred million dollars." Hearing him, I blinked, the words hitting me like a tidal wave.
“What?" I stammered, my voice rising in disbelief. The number echoed in my mind, impossible to ignore. Two hundred million dollars. What could he possibly want that would warrant such an outrageous offer?
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, as if he relished my shock.
"Yes," he said, his tone almost taunting.
My legs felt unsteady as I took an instinctive step back, my mind racing.
"Why?" I asked, my voice quieter now, tinged with suspicion. "Why would you give me that much money? What do you want from me?" His expression hardened, and he didn’t hesitate before answering.
"Because you’ll do what I want." My stomach churned at his words, a mix of dread and confusion tightening my chest.
"And what is it that you want from me?" I asked, forcing my voice to remain steady even as my hands clenched at my sides.
He closed the distance between us, his presence overwhelming, his gaze pinning me in place. "It’s simple," he said, his voice deadly calm. "Until my grandfather hands over her shares to me, you’ll stay by my side. As my wife. In front of her, in front of the board of directors. You’ll play the role perfectly. And during that time…"
His voice dropped further, his next words sending a cold shiver through me. "You’ll satisfy me in every way."
His words hit me like a punch to the stomach, leaving me frozen in place. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t even breathe for a moment. It wasn’t just what he said—it was how he said it. So calm, so certain, as if he had the right to take over every part of me. The worst part? A tiny, awful part of me didn’t want to fight it. But I would never let him see that.
“Especially physically,” he said, his voice low and commanding, just before he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer. The sudden closeness made my heart lurch. I stiffened, my hands flying to his chest to push him away.
“Accept it.” His commanding tone made me freeze.