Chapter 54 Chapter 54

Chapter 54 Chapter 54
Sophia's POV

I pulled up to the palace gates, my heart still racing from the encounter with Marcus.

The guards opened the gates and I drove through, parking near the main entrance. I sat in the car for a moment, gathering my thoughts.

Marcus had taken the bait. He actually believed I wanted reconciliation.

The fool.

I grabbed my purse and stepped out of the car, heading inside. The palace was quiet, most of the staff had retired for the evening.

But as I walked toward the stairs, I heard footsteps. Heavy. Angry.

Ethan appeared in the parlor doorway, his face dark with fury.

"Where were you?" His voice was cold.

I stopped. "I went to deliver an invitation. For the exhibition."

"To who?" He stepped closer, his eyes blazing.

I hesitated. "Marcus."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Then Ethan exploded.

"Marcus?" He practically roared the name. "You went to see Marcus? After everything he did to you? After he rejected you, humiliated you, chose that witch over you?"

"Ethan, let me explain..."

"Explain what?" He was in front of me now, his chest heaving. "Are you going back to him? Now that Lila's dead, you think you can just crawl back to your ex-husband?"

My mouth fell open. "What? No! That's not..."

"Then what is it, Sophia?" His voice cracked slightly. "Why would you go to him? Why would you invite him to your exhibition? Do you want him there? Do you want him to see your success and think he can have you back?"

"It's part of the plan," I said firmly, trying to keep my voice steady.

"What plan?" Ethan demanded. "You didn't tell me about any plan involving Marcus."

"Because I needed to work out the details first," I said. "I told Violet I had an idea. This is it."

"Your idea is to invite your ex-husband to a public event?" Ethan's laugh was bitter. "That's your brilliant plan?"

"Yes," I said, my own anger rising now. "Because Marcus is predictable. He thinks I'm offering him an olive branch. He thinks he can win me back and use my success to save his failing pack."

"And you're just going to let him think that?" Ethan's jaw clenched. "Let him believe he has a chance?"

"That's exactly what I'm going to do," I said. "Because when he shows up, when he makes a fool of himself trying to impress me, everyone will see him for what he really is. A desperate, broken Alpha clinging to past glory."

Ethan stared at me. "You're setting him up."

"Of course I am," I said. "Did you think I actually wanted him there because I missed him?"

"I don't know what to think anymore," Ethan said, running his hand through his hair. "You went to see him. Alone. Without telling me. What was I supposed to think?"

"You were supposed to trust me," I said quietly.

"Trust you?" His voice rose again. "How can I trust you when you're sneaking off to see your ex-husband?"

"I wasn't sneaking," I protested. "I was executing a plan. A plan to humiliate Marcus and show everyone that I've moved on. That I'm stronger without him."

"By inviting him to your exhibition?" Ethan shook his head. "What if he ruins it? What if he causes a scene?"

"Then he proves my point," I said. "That he's a bitter, jealous man who can't handle seeing me succeed."

Ethan's hands clenched into fists. "I don't like this, Sophia. I don't like you anywhere near him."

"He can't hurt me anymore," I said. "I'm not the weak, broken woman he divorced. I'm stronger now. And I have you."

"Do you?" The question hung in the air between us.

Before I could respond, footsteps echoed down the hallway.

"Ethan? Sophia?"

We both turned to see Ethan's mother, Eleanor, walking toward us. Her elegant dress swished around her ankles, her silver hair perfectly styled.

I immediately composed myself and moved to greet her. "Eleanor. It's lovely to see you."

She smiled warmly and pulled me into a hug. "Sophia, dear. I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Not at all," Ethan said quickly, his expression smoothing into something neutral. "We were just discussing the exhibition."

Eleanor looked between us, her sharp eyes missing nothing. "The atmosphere seems rather tense for a discussion about jewelry."

"Just some last-minute details to iron out," I said, forcing a smile. "Nothing to worry about."

She didn't look convinced but she let it go. "Well, I wanted to stop by and see how preparations were coming along. This exhibition is such an exciting venture."

"It is," I agreed. "Would you like something to eat or drink? I can have the kitchen prepare something."

"That would be lovely," Eleanor said. "Just some tea and perhaps some of those little sandwiches if they have any."

"Of course." I turned to Ethan. "I'll be right back."

I hurried to the kitchen, grateful for the escape. My hands were shaking slightly as I prepared the tray.

Why did Ethan have to react that way? Didn't he understand what I was trying to do?

I loaded the tray with tea, sandwiches, and some small pastries, then carried it back to the parlor.

Eleanor and Ethan were seated on the sofa, discussing seating arrangements for the exhibition. They looked so casual, so normal, like Ethan hadn't just accused me of wanting to go back to my ex-husband.

I set the tray down on the coffee table and poured tea for Eleanor.

"Thank you, dear," she said, taking the cup. "Now, tell me about your collection. I've heard such wonderful things."

We spent the next half hour discussing the exhibition. Eleanor asked about the designs, the inspiration, the expected guests. Ethan contributed occasionally but mostly remained quiet.

I could feel the tension radiating from him. Could see the way his jaw stayed tight, his shoulders rigid.

Eleanor's phone rang, cutting through the conversation.

"Excuse me," she said, standing. "I need to take this. It's about the foundation gala next month."

She stepped out of the parlor, leaving Ethan and me alone again.

The silence was suffocating.

"Sophia," Ethan started, his voice low.

"Don't," I said quietly. "Not now."

"I need to say this," he continued. "I shouldn't have shouted at you. I shouldn't have accused you of wanting to go back to Marcus."

I looked at him. Really looked at him. And I saw it. The fear in his eyes. The insecurity.

"You thought I was leaving you," I said softly.

"I thought you were considering it," he admitted. "When I heard you went to see Marcus, I just... I couldn't think straight. All I could imagine was you realizing you still had feelings for him. That with Lila gone, there was nothing stopping you from going back."

"Ethan," I moved closer to him. "I don't have feelings for Marcus. Not anymore. What we had is dead. He killed it when he chose Lila over me."

"But he was your first mate," Ethan said. "Your first love."

"He was," I agreed. "But you're my fated mate. The one the Moon Goddess chose for me. Do you really think I'd throw that away for a man who treated me like garbage?"

"No," he said quietly. "But fear isn't logical."

I reached up and cupped his face in my hands. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm exactly where I want to be. With you."

His eyes searched mine. "Promise me."

"I promise," I whispered.

He pulled me against him, his arms wrapping around me tightly. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I doubted you."

"It's okay," I murmured into his chest. "I should have told you about the plan. I should have included you."

"Yes, you should have," he said, but there was no anger in his voice now. Just relief.

We stood there for a moment, holding each other.

Then Ethan tilted my chin up and kissed me.

It was gentle at first. Apologetic. But then it deepened, becoming more urgent.

I responded immediately, my fingers threading through his hair as I pulled him closer.

"Your mother," I gasped against his lips.

"She'll be on that call for a while," Ethan murmured, his hands sliding down my back. "Trust me."

He lifted me easily, and I wrapped my legs around his waist as he carried me toward the stairs.

We barely made it to our bedroom before his lips were on mine again, more demanding this time.

He kicked the door shut behind us and carried me to the bed, laying me down gently on the silk sheets.

"I need you to know," he said, hovering over me. "That you're mine. Only mine."

"I know," I whispered. "Show me."

His eyes darkened with desire.

He captured my lips again as his hands worked at the buttons of my blouse. I helped him, fumbling with the fabric until it fell away.

His mouth moved to my neck, kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin there. I gasped, my back arching off the bed.

"Ethan," I breathed.

"Say my name again," he commanded, his voice rough.

"Ethan," I moaned as his hand slid beneath my skirt, his fingers finding the heat between my thighs.

He worked me slowly, deliberately, until I was trembling beneath him.

"Please," I whimpered. "I need you."

He didn't make me wait.

In one smooth motion, he removed the rest of my clothes and his own, then positioned himself between my legs.

When he entered me, I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders.

He moved slowly at first, his eyes locked on mine. "You're so beautiful," he murmured. "So perfect."

I pulled him down for another kiss as he began to move faster, deeper.

The room filled with the sounds of our pleasure. My moans. His groans. The rhythm of our bodies moving together.

"Oh god," I gasped as he hit that perfect spot inside me. "Right there. Don't stop."

"Never," he promised, his pace increasing.

I could feel the pressure building inside me, coiling tighter and tighter.

"Ethan, I'm going to..."

"Let go," he urged, his thumb finding that sensitive bundle of nerves. "Let go for me."

The orgasm crashed over me like a wave, and I cried out his name, my body convulsing with pleasure.

Ethan followed moments later, burying his face in my neck as he groaned my name.

We collapsed together, breathing hard, our bodies slick with sweat.

He rolled to the side, pulling me against him.

"I love you," he whispered into my hair. "I love you so much it terrifies me."

I turned to face him, tracing my fingers along his jaw. "I love you too. And I'm not going anywhere. Ever."

He kissed my forehead, then my nose, then my lips.

"Good," he murmured. "Because I don't think I could survive losing you."

"You won't have to," I promised.

We lay there in comfortable silence, our breathing slowly returning to normal.

I felt safe here. Cherished. Loved.

This was where I belonged. Not with Marcus. Not in some broken, toxic relationship.

Here. With Ethan. With my fated mate.

"About Marcus," Ethan said after a while. "What's the real plan?"

I smiled against his chest. "You'll see at the exhibition. Trust me, it's going to be perfect."

"I do trust you," he said. "I'm sorry I forgot that for a moment."

"It's okay," I said. "We all have our insecurities."

He tightened his arms around me. "No more secrets though. If you have a plan, tell me. Even if you haven't worked out all the details."

"Deal," I agreed.

We drifted into a comfortable silence again.

I could feel exhaustion pulling at me. The day had been long. Emotional. Draining.

But here, in Ethan's arms, I felt at peace.

"Sleep," Ethan murmured, as if reading my thoughts. "I've got you."

I closed my eyes, letting the warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lull me into sleep.

Tomorrow, we'll continue planning for the exhibition.

Tomorrow, we'll prepare for whatever comes next.

But tonight, this was enough.

Just the two of us. Together.

Exactly where we were meant to be.