She is jealous

Sophia’s POV:

I opened my eyes and found myself lying on the bed. As I regained consciousness, I felt trapped, like someone had me locked in their grip. The next moment, I realized Dominic was lying next to me, his warm breath brushing against my face. 

I tried to get up, but his hold tightened.

"What are you doing? Do you want to break my bones?" I snapped in frustration. 

Half-asleep, he muttered, "I’ll break your tongue first…" without even opening his eyes. 

"The tongue doesn’t have bones, by the way." I frowned. He mumbled something unintelligible, then suddenly sat up, startled by the time.

"Oh no… it's already nine o'clock!" he exclaimed, panic flashing across his face. "I had an important meeting… I can’t believe I slept for so long!"   He hurriedly started getting ready, the rush making him clumsier by the second. 

"Calm down," I said irritably. "You’re human, not a machine. So what if you overslept for once?" 

"You don’t get it! That meeting was worth millions! Do you know how much I just lost because of this?!" he yelled, buttoning his shirt furiously. 

"What’s the point of all this money if it costs you your peace of mind?" I sighed, trying to reason with him.

"Shut up. You’re only here because of this money. Without it, you’d be the first to leave me."   His bitter words hit me like a punch to the heart.

"I’m not like that," I said firmly, my voice shaking. He didn’t respond, just gave me a mocking smile, grabbed his briefcase, and walked out. That smile burned through me, leaving my heart heavy and my eyes stinging with unshed tears. 

As the door shut behind him, I broke down, crying. His words kept echoing in my mind. If I’m so greedy, then why should I leave empty-handed? 

I wiped my tears and steeled myself. If he thinks I’m after money, then fine—I’ll play that role. Why should I let him have everything while I get nothing in return?

Before I could pick up my phone, a soft whimper broke through my spiral of anger and sadness. My heart softened immediately. I turned my head and saw my three-month-old daughter lying in her crib, her tiny fists waving in the air, as if sensing my distress. I walked over, scooping her up gently. Her big, innocent eyes stared up at me, full of trust and love.

"You don’t care about money, do you, sweetheart?" I whispered, holding her close. She cooed in response, her small fingers curling around mine. I couldn’t help but smile through my tears.

"You’re the only one who truly loves me, aren’t you?" I said softly, brushing a kiss on her forehead.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I cradled her, rocking her gently.

"You’re too little to understand, but Mommy is trying, you know? I just want us to be happy. I want you to grow up in a home where love isn’t just a word. But it’s hard, baby… so hard." Her tiny lips formed a little smile, as if she understood. My heart melted.

"You’re my strength," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I’ll fight for us. I promise you, my love, you’ll never feel alone. You’ll never feel unloved." I held her tightly, her warmth giving me the courage I needed. Placing her back in the crib, I brushed my fingers over her soft cheek.

"Sleep now, my angel. Mommy has a lot to take care of," I whispered before picking up my phone and dialing Dominic.

"Speak quickly," he answered curtly, clearly in a hurry. 

"I accept the deal," I said, my voice steady. "But I have one condition." 

"What is it?" he asked, annoyed. 

"You won’t interfere in my personal life. Where I go, who I meet—it’s none of your business." 

“It’s my birthday today. Mom and Grandma will be here soon. If Mom says anything, you’ll have to handle it." Saying that he hung up, unsure if he even paid attention to my words. 

~Time skip

“You promised you’d wear the dress my dad sent you.?” As he stepped forward, I blocked his way.  Before I could respond, he smirked.

“Your dad’s dress isn’t going to fit… not that it matters.” His words were sharp, dripping with sarcasm as he turned to leave the room. I hurried to block his way again, my hands trembling slightly.

“How can you say that? You have to wear it! If you don’t, my dad will feel awful. Show some respect,” I pleaded, standing firm before him.

“So what if it looks bad? Who cares?” he said with a casual shrug, his nonchalant tone fanning the flames of my anger. I could feel the heat rising in me, almost like smoke was coming out of my ears.

“He’s my father,” I said, my voice sharper now, determined to make him feel the weight of his disrespect. “You could at least show him some courtesy!” Dominic glanced at me, his lips curling into a half-smile.

“Respect? Maybe the honorable should earn it first,” he replied, his tone calm but dismissive. His words were like oil poured onto a fire. My anger burned brighter, but I knew better than to let it consume me.

He was my father, no matter what. I respected him and his family deeply, even if they treated me so cruelly in return. Grinding my teeth, I clenched my fists and finally stepped aside, though it took every ounce of my willpower to do so.

“Fine. Do whatever you want,” I muttered, my voice barely steady. What else could I do? If love had been part of this relationship, perhaps I could have reasoned with him, but there wasn’t even a shred of affection between us.

Dominic walked past me carelessly, his indifference cutting deeper than words. As he reached the door, he paused for a moment, turning back to glance at me. His eyes lingered on the white maxi dress I wore, the fabric softly clinging to my frame. My cheeks were still flushed, though now it was with a mixture of anger and humiliation. He shook his head slightly and walked away, leaving me standing there, frozen in place.

Tonight, there was a party—a big one. Business tycoons, celebrities, and politicians were all attending. Dominic would never embarrass himself by wearing a simple suit, especially not one sent by my father. He only wore branded clothes, expensive ones, and this night would be no exception. He wouldn’t lower himself.

I was still upstairs, standing in front of the mirror as I adjusted my hair for the hundredth time. Anxiety weighed heavily on my chest. What would I tell my father when he asked why Dominic hadn’t worn the suit? I’d come up with a dozen excuses, finally settling on one: I’d say the suit got burned while ironing. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best I could think of.

Taking a deep breath, I grabbed my clutch and stepped out of the room. But as I descended the stairs, my heart sank. My eyes fell on Ria, walking confidently into the house. She was here—Dominic’s special guest.

A wave of anger surged through me, but it was quickly replaced by helplessness. This wasn’t my house; it was Dominic’s. How could I ask her to leave? That thought alone made my chest tighten painfully.

Tears welled up in my eyes, but I forced them back. “Why invite her here, knowing how I feel?” I wondered bitterly. “Is this his way of reminding me that I don’t belong? That I’ll never be enough?”

I bit my lip, trying to hold back my emotions. If I couldn’t make her leave, maybe I could leave instead. Wiping away the tears before they could fall, I straightened my back and descended the stairs, determined not to let him see my pain.