LOGIN❤️Sophie❤️
I’ve never seen my father as angry as this before in my twenty years. Yet here he is, pacing the living room with fire blazing in his eyes. While the rest of the family stares at me with their jaws on the floor—especially my mom, since I'm her only child—I can't imagine how disappointed she is right now. I can't even look at them in the eyes; my head is hung low as I stare at my folded hands on my lap. “You are a disappointment,” my father’s voice booms through the room, making me flinch a little. Tears wet my lashes. This is a stupid mistake. I just wanted to prove something, and I ended up making the worst mistake of my life. “You are not even out of college yet. What do you want people to say about me—about this family? That my daughter got pregnant without finishing her education?” My throat burns. “I'm sorry.” “Sorry?” Mom throws her hands up exasperatedly. “You need to be kidding.” Words catch in my throat, so I watch silently as my life crumbles before my eyes at full speed. “Call Sebastian right now! He needs to take full responsibility for this mess he’s created,” Dad growls. My head snaps up. Sebastian? Oh my God. “Yes,” my aunt says from across the room, “since he’s the father of the child, it’s only right if he marries her. We can't have you giving birth to a fatherless baby.” “I need to see Sebastian here before nightfall,” Dad says. “No,” the word escapes before I can stop it. My father’s brow furrows. “No?” “The baby,” my throat tightens, “the baby is not Sebastian’s.” Everyone goes silent—the kind of silence where you can hear the little sound in the living room. It’s so quiet I can hear my father’s clock ticking. He stares at me as if I’ve grown another head. “What did you say?” His voice is dangerously calm. I swallow the lump in my throat. “I said, the baby is not Sebastian’s.” My mother’s hand flies to her mouth. “What do you mean the baby is not his?” she whispers, barely containing her shock. “I...” My lips tremble. “We broke up.” Dad lets out a harsh laugh. “You broke up?” he repeats. “So you got pregnant by another man immediately after?” “It's not like that.” “Then explain it!” he roars. I jump in my seat, every pair of eyes fixed on me—my uncle, my aunt, my cousins, my parents. I wish the floor would open and swallow me whole. “I...” My mind desperately searches for an answer. “Sebastian and I ended things weeks ago.” “Then whose child is this?” Uncle Richard asks. The question hangs in the air—whose child? A faceless stranger, a man whose name I don't even know—a man who disappeared before sunrise—a man... my brain screams. I can't possibly tell them that. Dad would kill me. My entire family would despise me for ruining the family’s image. I would become a laughing stock among my friends. The many worst-case scenarios flash through my head. “Answer me!” my father snaps. “I...” Think, Sophie. Fucking think. There has to be something. Just anything to say. “I have a new boyfriend,” the lie slips out so suddenly I almost believe it myself. My mother’s eyes widen. “You have a... what?” “A boyfriend,” I repeat, forcing confidence into my voice. “I’ve been seeing someone.” “And you expect us to believe that?” my aunt says. “I've been keeping it private.” “For what reason?” my father asks coldly. My confidence falters. What reason? I search my brain. “I... I wasn't ready to introduce him yet.” My father folds his arms. “So this mysterious boyfriend got you pregnant.” I nod weakly. “Yes.” “And where has this boyfriend been while you’ve been vomiting every morning in my house?” “I... he travels a lot.” “What does he do?” Another lie pops into my head. “He owns a company.” “What company?” I open my mouth—nothing comes out. I don't even know the stranger’s name. How can I know what company he owns? I don't even know if he has a company. Is it possible for a twenty-three-year-old man to own a company? Dad immediately notices my hesitation. “You are lying.” “I'm not!” I shout. “I'm telling the truth.” “Then give me his name.” A name. Damn it. Any name. The stranger never told me. I never asked. God, I'm such an idiot. “I call him Babe.” My dad’s jaw drops. “Babe?” I bite the inside of my cheek. “That’s his name. I mean, that’s what I call him.” “Are you out of your mind? What’s his real name?” Fuck! “He...” I stammer. “He’s very private.” Dad’s face hardens. “So private that his girlfriend doesn't even know his name?” “He doesn't like publicity.” “Enough!” my dad slams a hand on the living room table, making everyone jump. His eyes lock onto mine. “I’ve tolerated enough of your nonsense today. If this man truly exists, he needs to come here. I need to see him.” “Dad, he might be busy.” “I don't care. You made your bed; now it’s time to lie in it.” My pulse pounds loudly in my ears. “Dad...” “I said I don't care!” The veins on his neck bulge with anger. “You’re carrying his child. He will take responsibility, marry you, and the wedding will happen soon.” My stomach twists violently. Marry? To a stranger? Someone I don't even know? “I...” “You have exactly forty-eight hours,” my father says, every word slow and deliberate. “Bring your boyfriend into this house.” His voice turns deadly. “And if you fail, be prepared to pack your things and leave this house, with no rights to my property. Everything you have will be given to someone else.” My hands clench. My mother steps forward. “Honey, you need to calm down...” “No. She plans to embarrass this family. If she doesn't do what’s right, she’ll learn her lesson.” My vision blurs. Forty-eight hours. A boyfriend willing to accept this pregnancy. How am I supposed to find a man whose name I don't even know?☠️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







