LOGIN❤️Sophie❤️
I blink, then blink again. Did someone add weed inside my breakfast? Why am I beginning to imagine things? I lower my phone, look back at it then at him. I repeat the process four more times before clearly coming to the conclusion that I'm beginning to hallucinate. Do pregnant women hallucinate too? Across from the room, the billionaire is still watching me with one hand shoved inside the pocket of his suit. His expression is unreadable, cold. Definitely a misunderstanding. My phone must have vibrated at the same time he pressed his phone. Coincidence. I open the chat again. Shadow_23: You are at the right lounge. The words don't change, they remain exactly as they are, okay maybe I'm not hallucinating. But this? This can't be happening. “ I'm really losing my mind.” One of the bodyguards coughs awkwardly, I ignore him. I refresh the chat, still the same message. Still the billionaire. No. I refuse. “There has to be a mistake.” I point my phone at his face, “You can't be shadow_23.” He doesn't answer, he just watches me. I shake my head, “No. I specifically ordered a twenty-three-year-old.” His deep voice is calm, completely serious, “ I'm thirty-three.” I stare, then burst out laughing. Everyone is looking at me now, yet I don't care. Maybe I'm crazy now. Maybe I'm going insane. He doesn't look amused. Awkwardly I clear my throat, “Okay, where is he?” Silence answers me. “ I mean the guy. My fake husband.” Still nothing, I glance around, maybe he’s hiding. Trying to play pranks with a pregnant woman. I search under the table, nothing. Okay, this is becoming serious and foolish. I sigh dramatically, “Sir, with all due respect, are you his father?” One bodyguard chokes, another quickly looks away. The waitress bites her lip so hard I'm afraid she will draw blood. The man’s expression doesn't change, I continue anyway, “Or maybe, his older brother? Cousin? Uncle? Family friend…..” He finally speaks, “ I'm shadow_23.” I laugh again, this man is completely insane. He needs to be checked. “You can't be serious sir.” “ I am.” I stare at him for a long time, expecting him to burst out laughing, he doesn't. Okay, are there people with cameras around? Did I walk into a movie location? Because if this is some kind of reality show, I would like to resign. I slowly turn in a full circle, no cameras. No director shouting, “Cut!” no hidden microphones. Just a room full of people who are looking at me like I escaped from the psychiatric hospital. I point at myself, “Can somebody please tell me what’s going on?” Nobody speaks, are rich people allergic to conversation? I look back at the billionaire. “No offense. But you look way too successful to answer an online advertisement.” “Yes.” I shake my head stubbornly, “Why do you agree to be my fake baby daddy for two million dollars?” Silence falls. He studies me for a full five seconds before moving closer to me. That’s when I realize how tall he is. I force myself to take a step back. “Are you always this argumentative?” “ Sir?” “ it’s adrian.” “Okay, sir Adrian.” His lips twitch a little. “ I'm shadow_23, and I’m willing to marry you.” A laugh rips before I can stop it, “No.” I shake my head, “If I get married to someone like you, my father will probably faint.” His brow raises imperceptibly, “Really?” “Yes. I'm sorry,” I bow, “ I know this is some kind of misunderstanding, I will go downstairs and look for my baby daddy.” I turn to leave, but his voice cuts through my ears like a weapon. “You have two choices.” I turn around too fast. “What are they?” “You can walk out that door, and explain to your father why you failed. Or…” his eyes lock onto mine, “ you can sit down, and become my wife.”☠️Adrian☠️ The first thing I notice is her hand, curled protectively over her stomach, and the second is the fear that shines so brightly in her hazel eyes. Then everything else disappears—the leather interior of the Rolls Royce, the voice crackling through the intercom, the bodyguard outside, and the smell of vomit on my suit. It all fades away. Because somewhere inside my head, a door I buried eighteen years ago creaks open. Eighteen years earlier…… “Dad?” My voice is barely above a whisper, young and trembling. Silence greets me—a deep, suffocating silence—and I push the study door open softly. My gaze roams around the familiar room until it lands on my father. My feet dart further forward. “Dad, Mom said breakfast is……” The words die before they can fully form. My father sits behind his desk, his chair turned toward the window. For one ridiculous second, I think he’s asleep. “Dad?” I keep walking, not stopping until I'm standing so close to him. That’s when I see it—some
❤️Sophie❤️ My fingers curl against the leather seat. Outside, the bodyguards move with frightening precision. One disappears behind the SUV ahead. Another speaks quietly into the microphone clipped beneath his collar. No one is shouting. No one is running. That somehow makes it worse. I look at Adrian; he’s not looking out of the window. He’s staring at me. “Stay where you are,” his voice is calm. Too calm. “What…what’s happening?” “I don't know yet.” “You don't know?” My voice rises despite myself, “Your men are pulling out guns.” “They are doing their job.” His answer should have reassured me, but instead, it sends another wave of fear crashing through me. The words from yesterday suddenly echo in my head. Emergency. Kidnapping. My enemies. I actually laughed when I heard those words. I'm not laughing anymore. My breathing becomes uneven. This is not happening. I'm not supposed to get dragged into whatever dangerous billionaire game this is. I just needed someone to prete
❤️Sophie❤️ For a moment, no one says anything. The dining room falls into a strange silence as my father’s question hangs in the air. “When should we begin planning the wedding?” My heartbeat stutters. Wedding? I thought we were discussing breakfast, not planning the fastest marriage in history. I slowly turn my head toward Adrian. Don't answer. Please don't. Think about it. Pretend you didn't hear him. Lose your hearing for five seconds. Adrian calmly folds his napkin and places it beside his plate. “The day after tomorrow.” The orange juice in my hand almost slips. “What?” I squeak. Every pair of eyes turns toward me—wonderful. Now I look like the only person who wasn't informed about my own wedding. Adrian finally looks at me. “Is there a problem?” There are approximately three thousand problems. But my parents are watching. I force a smile so painful my cheeks begin to ache. “N…no.” Dad beams. “Excellent.” Mom clasps her hands together. “Oh, that’s wonderful.” Wonde
❤️Sophie❤️ For the first time since Adrian entered the dining room, everyone actually freezes. My father's eyes are fixed directly on him. My mother’s fork hangs mid-air above her plate. My aunt’s jaw drops. And me? I'm trying really hard not to kick him in the leg again. My father is the first to recover. “Advertisement?” Adrian nods, unbothered. “Yes, a business advertisement.” I let out a snort. This man can lie. He calmly takes another sip of coffee. “One of her designs catches my eye. I asked to meet her.” I cough so violently tears fill my eyes. I’ve never designed anything in my life. Adrian hands me a glass of water. “Drink.” I glare at him. This is your fault. My mother smiles warmly. “She never told us she was interested in designing.” That’s because I don't design! I force a smile that probably looks more painful than convincing. Then scan my brain for a reasonable lie. “Well…” Before I can invent a career my parents don't know for myself, Adrian res
❤️Sophie❤️ I don't think I ever really sleep. At some point, I close my eyes, but every time I drift off, I dream of contracts, kidnapping, annoying billionaires, and my father throwing my suitcase out onto the street. By the time sunlight slips through the curtains, I already have a headache. A loud knock lands on my bedroom door. “Sophie!” Dad’s voice echoes through the hallway. “It’s seven thirty.” “ I know what time it is!” “ Good. Then don't make your boyfriend wait.” “ I highly doubt he’s the one waiting.” “ Seven forty-five.” “ I heard you the last time!” Footsteps fade away, and I flop back onto my pillow. “I'm going to die.” Five minutes later, Mom walks in carrying breakfast. “You should eat.” “ I’d rather panic.” She sighs. “Your father has been pacing the living room since six.” “Has he always been this dramatic?” “ He ironed the tablecloth.” I sit upright. “That was a joke, right?” “ I wish it were, but no—that’s not the end. He polished
❤️Sophie❤️ “Dad, leave me the hell alone!” I slam the door so hard that the entire room shakes, then rest my back against it. Yet his voice rings through the living room: “If he’s not here by 8 o'clock, you are leaving this house tomorrow.” I ignore him, my pulse pounding loudly in my ears. I almost forgot my house isn’t really my house right now. I should have gone to Sandy’s instead. Actually, I never expected my father to be such a pain in the ass. Even after telling him my boyfriend is coming tomorrow, he still refuses to let me breathe. “I'm not the first person to get pregnant without a father, so why have you all ganged up against me?” The sound of footsteps echoes through the hallway. I already know who it is before they get close. A few seconds later, a knock sounds on the door, and my mom’s voice drifts through, “Sophie.” I stay still against the door. “Sophie, it’s your mother.” After what feels like forever, I yank the door open. Sure enou







