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❤️Sophie❤️
I thought the worst thing that could ever happen to me was catching my boyfriend cheating on me, it actually is, but it hurts more when the person he’s cheating on me with is someone I trusted so much. Someone I respected so much. Yet here he is, Sebastian, fucking someone on Mrs Davis, our English professor's huge desk inside the office. And the person is Mrs Davis herself. Stacks of papers are on the floor around them; my boyfriend grips our professor's hips and keeps thrusting into her with brutality. Dirty moans fill the entire hallway, no one is around, the students are all gone, Mrs Davis is the only one known to go home late because she always has the most work. Every student loves her, me personally, she’s like a second mother to me, attentive, with a kind smile. I blink my eyes several times, just to make sure I'm not seeing things but they are still there, fucking, sucking, tasting. Every sound coming from their lips cut through me so deep I almost stagger and hit the floor. Sebastian never fucks me like this, he’s always complaining that I'm too weak, or maybe he’s too tired. Just one round, and he will roll off me, he has never even made me come ever since he disvirgined me. A moan tears from Mrs Davis's lips as Sebastian thrusts into her from behind in her office. And I watch with my jaw on the floor. This is the craziest thing I’ve seen with my eyes since my parents gave birth to me and it’s not an exaggeration. He slaps her ass, she squirms in front of him, jerking her ass deeper into his hard-on. My entire body trembles, I'm too stunned to move. So I stay there, watching my three-year boyfriend ravage another woman. And to think that this woman is my advisor, whenever I have a relationship problem, I rush to her, just like I did now before I found her getting screwed by my boyfriend. My throat tightens so hard it's becoming difficult to breathe. My knees buckle and I clutch the door handle to stop from hitting the floor. Their loud moans fill the room, tormenting me. The tears spill before I can stop them. For a second, I almost convince myself I misread the scene. That maybe this is a dream, or a cruel hallucination born from stress, exams, everything piling too high for too long. But then Sebastian laughs, the same laugh that I thought was only meant for me, and it slices through me. “ Fuck mommy harder, good boy!” My boyfriend grunts, and slams into her, “Fuck! You are so tight, so sweet.” My hand shakes so hard until I clench it, I want to scream, to shout at them to stop, but I stand there, too broken to say a word. The sex is so hard, so rough, that I assume bruises will be left on her body, but judging by the way she keeps moaning like a stupid sex starved slut that she is, she seems to be enjoying it. “Do you fuck your girlfriend this crazy, baby?” she purrs. “ My dick is meant for only you to enjoy like this.” “Love fucking me, don't you?” A loud spank echoes through the room and she jerks, then grips the counter. The room suddenly becomes too hot, too suffocating. My hand grabs the doorknob, and it creaks. Both of them flinch at the same time, so it really is happening, I'm not hallucinating, I'm not dreaming. A fresh wave of tears hit me from nowhere. Sebastian scrambles back first, yanking at his clothes like it will erase what I just saw. Mrs Davis adjusts herself slower, smoother—like she still has control over something in this mess. That alone makes me want to go over and slap her hard across the face, but it seems my legs have stopped functioning. Sebastian darts forward, “ Sophie—” “Don't.” I raise a trembling hand, and my voice comes out low, too low for how I'm crumbling inside. I step fully into the room now, and every memory I have of this place, the advice session, the polite smiles, the trust—I feel them rot all at once. “You.” I turn my gaze to him first. Sebastian looks wrecked, guilty, but not destroyed enough, at least not the way I'm getting destroyed right now. Three years of love, plans, apologies, intimacy, reduced to him standing half naked in her office like I interrupted something. “What exactly am I supposed to be seeing right now?” He exhales sharply, “It just happened, I swear—” “Just happened?” I let out a laugh and it comes out broken, “Okay your dick accidentally falls into her right?” Mrs Davis finally speaks, “You need to calm down—” “Don't you dare tell me to calm down.” She continues again, “You don't have to shout, things like this happen, it’s because you don't satisfy him as I do.” The words slap me hard in the face, is this Mrs Davis? I laugh, I laugh so hard my stomach hurts, and I wipe the angry tears spilling from my eyes, “You are so shameless, getting fucked by someone that could have been your son!” They both jerk, “What happens if the authorities find out about this?” Panic flickers on their faces, “ Sophie…..” “Shut the fuck up!” I scream. They stop talking. My hands curl into balls without permission, my whole body is shaking now, not from sadness anymore, but from betrayal. And it’s making it hard to breathe. “So tell—” my voice comes out barely above a whisper, “ do you enjoy fucking older women?” Older women, the words echo through my brain. I'm just twenty, he’s twenty too and he just finished fucking a woman close to forty. Sebastian's eyes dart to the floor, he doesn't deny it, and that silence is enough to tell me what I need to know. I stagger back and slam into the wall hard. “You enjoyed fucking her, you were moaning, you never fucked me like that.” I don't even know which one hurts more, the fact that he’s fucking someone else, or the fact that he never enjoys fucking me like this. “And you,” a lump forms in my throat and I swallow hard, “ you used to give me relationship advice, you were always so kind to me, so motherly, was that all because you were screwing my boyfriend and you never wanted me to suspect a thing?” Sebastian takes a step forward, “It’s not what you think—” “What I think!!” my loud voice rips through the walls. Pain flashes across his eyes now, “ I'm sorry….” Shaking my head, I utter, “You don't get to be sorry, sorry is when you say you forget someone’s birthday, not when you destroyed your girlfriend’s life.” More questions flood through me, I want to ask if I was always a joke to him, I want to ask if all the love he showed for three years was true, or they were just meant to deceive me. But one question leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, I stare at him for long, with my throat tightening so hard, “Tell me one thing…. Have you always loved her? Me and her, who do you choose?” A part of me wishes he will choose me, fall to the floor, and tell me he won't ever come close to her again, that this is just a one-time mistake. But his eyes move from Mrs Davis to me and then to Mrs Davis again, “ I'm sorry Sophie……” A loud cry vibrates through my chest, three years of relationship, gone within a blink. There is no need to wait anymore, he chose her, I was just a thing to pass the time, I step back towards the door, wiping my face as tears keep pooling. Sebastian calls my name, but I'm already running through the hallway, I have no idea where I’m running to, I just keep running. Until my feet burn, until I feel like I'm about to collapse. Then I trip and hit the floor hard.❤️Sophie❤️ By the time the convoy screeches into the emergency entrance of Blackwood Hospital, I have accepted two things. First, I am definitely not dying. Second, apparently no one has informed Adrian Blackwood. The Rolls Royce hasn't even come to a complete stop before my door is opened. “Sir.” Three men are already standing outside. Adrian steps out first, his expensive suit still decorated with the evidence of my spectacular morning sickness. Yet he doesn't spare it a single glance. Instead, he turns back to me, “Can you stand?” “I've been standing for twenty years.” His expression doesn't change, “Answer the question.” “Yes.” The moment my feet hit the ground, he reaches for my elbow. “I can walk.” “I know.” Yet he doesn't let go. The emergency doors slide open before we even reach them. Five doctors, three nurses, two orderlies with a wheelchair—all rushing toward us like a disaster has arrived. A gray-haired doctor reaches us first, “Mr. Blackwood.” “Exam
☠️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







