Sophia's POV
Absolutely not.
I stood in Damien's office, arms crossed, staring at the sleek black suitcase that security had just delivered. My suitcase. With all my belongings from Maya's apartment.
You don't get a vote, Damien said without looking up from his computer. Your things are already at my penthouse. The guest room is ready. Security is stationed outside. This isn't a negotiation.
You can't just kidnap me
I'm not kidnapping you. I'm protecting my investment. He finally looked up, those gray eyes cold. The Wellingtons know you work for me now. That makes you a target. Would you prefer to stay at your friend's apartment and wait for them to make their move? Because they will, Sophia. And it won't be pleasant.
My stomach turned. You're trying to scare me.
I'm trying to keep you alive. He stood and walked around his desk. Robert Wellington has killed people for far less than what you're about to help me do. Your father's emergency board meeting this afternoon? That's not a coincidence. They're planning something.
Then maybe I should be there
No. His voice was sharp. You stay away from that building until I say otherwise. The last thing we need is you walking into a trap.
But my father
Chose the Wellingtons over you, remember? Damien's expression softened slightly. I know it's hard. But right now, the best thing you can do is stay out of sight and learn everything you can about how this game is really played.
I hated that he was right.
Fine, I said through gritted teeth. I'll stay at your penthouse. But I want my own key, my own space, and boundaries. Clear boundaries.
A slow smile curved his lips. Afraid you won't be able to resist me?
Afraid you'll think that one night means you own me.
Firecracker, he murmured, and the nickname sent heat through me. I don't need to own you. I just need you sharp, focused, and alive. Can you manage that?
I've managed worse.
Good. Because your first day starts now. He handed me a tablet. These are the files I need you to review. Financial records from Chen Industries going back five years. I need you to identify every transaction that involves Wellington & Associates. Flag anything that looks suspicious.
I took the tablet, scanning the first few documents. This is... a lot.
You have until 6 PM. My office. We'll go over your findings before dinner.
Dinner?
We need to eat, Sophia. Even revenge requires fuel. He checked his watch. Your desk is the office connected to mine. Alex will show you how to access our secure systems. And Sophia? Don't disappoint me.
The challenge in his voice made me want to prove him wrong.
I won't, I said.
As I turned to leave, his voice stopped me. One more thing. Your friend Maya has been calling Cross Capital's main line trying to reach you. You need to call her back.
Guilt twisted in my stomach. What do I tell her?
That you signed an NDA and can't discuss the details of your work. She'll understand.
Would she though? Maya had been my only ally through everything. Now I was lying to her too.
But I'd signed the contract. Made my choice.
I had to live with it.
My new office was small but functional—a desk, a computer, and a door that connected directly to Damien's office. Which meant he could walk in whenever he wanted.
Great. Just great.
I opened the tablet and dove into the financial records.
At first, nothing seemed obviously wrong. Standard business transactions. Consulting fees. Investment transfers.
But then I noticed a pattern.
Every quarter, Chen Industries made a payment to Wellington & Associates labeled advisory services. The amounts varied—sometimes fifty thousand, sometimes two hundred thousand.
But there were no corresponding invoices. No documentation of what services were actually provided.
I dug deeper, cross-referencing the payment dates with Chen Industries' cash flow reports.
My blood ran cold.
Every payment to Wellington & Associates happened right after Chen Industries received a large deposit from an unknown source. Within days, that money was paid to the Wellingtons as advisory fees.
It was laundering. Textbook money laundering.
And my father's signature was on every single authorization.
Find something interesting?
I jumped. Damien stood in the doorway between our offices, watching me.
You could knock, I said.
I could. But I won't. He walked over and looked at my screen. What did you find?
I showed him the pattern. His expression darkened with satisfaction.
Good work. This matches what I suspected, but I needed someone with inside knowledge to confirm it. He leaned against my desk. Your father wasn't just cooperating with Wellington. He was actively facilitating their crimes.
He didn't have a choice, I said weakly.
Everyone has a choice, Sophia. Your father chose money and status over integrity. Over you. His voice gentled. I know that hurts. But you need to accept it if we're going to move forward.
I stared at the screen, at my father's signature repeated over and over. Proof of his guilt.
What happens now? I asked.
Now you keep digging. Find every connection between Chen Industries and Wellington & Associates. Every payment, every transfer, every meeting. Build me a timeline.
That could take weeks.
You have three days.
Three days? That's impossible
Then I suggest you work fast. He pushed off my desk. Oh, and Sophia? Marcus Wellington just arrived at Chen Industries. The board meeting is starting.
My heart stopped. Can we listen in? Do you have someone inside
Better. He pulled out his phone and opened an app. Audio played through the speaker—voices in a conference room.
My father's voice came through clearly. I've called this emergency meeting because we have a serious problem. Damien Cross has hired Sophia.
My breath caught.
That was my concern as well, Robert Wellington's smooth voice replied. Your daughter knows too much about our arrangement, Victor. If Cross gets that information
He won't, Marcus interrupted. Sophie's not smart enough to figure out what she's looking at. She never was.
Rage flooded through me.
Don't be so sure, Robert said coldly. Sophia may have been naive, but Cross isn't. If he's hired her, he has a reason. We need to neutralize the threat before it becomes a problem.
Neutralize? My father's voice shook. You mean
I mean we make it very clear that Sophia's continued employment at Cross Capital would be... inadvisable. For everyone involved.
They were threatening me.
My own father sat there listening to them threaten his daughter and said nothing.
How do you suggest we proceed? Marcus asked.
Leave that to me, Robert said. I'll have a conversation with Mr. Cross. Explain that some employees come with more liability than they're worth. He's a businessman. He'll understand.
The audio cut off.
I stared at Damien, my hands shaking. They're going to try to make you fire me.
Let them try. His voice was ice. Robert Wellington doesn't scare me.
Maybe he should. You heard him
I heard him confirm everything I already suspected. They're scared, Sophia. Scared enough to threaten you publicly at a board meeting. That means we're close. He smiled, sharp and dangerous. And scared people make mistakes.
But my father
Didn't defend you. Didn't speak up. Didn't do anything except sit there while they planned your destruction. Damien's expression hardened. He made his choice. Again.
The words hurt because they were true.
So what do we do? I asked.
We go on the offensive. He checked his watch. Get your things. We have a charity gala to attend tonight.
What? I just started working today
And tonight, you make your public debut as my personal assistant. Let the Wellingtons see that their threats mean nothing. That you're under my protection now.
Damien, I don't have anything to wear to a charity gala
Already handled. There's a dress waiting for you at the penthouse. Margot picked it out. His smile was wicked. Wear it. Look devastating. And let's remind the Wellingtons exactly who they're dealing with.
This was insane. I'd been working for him for eight hours and he wanted me to attend a public event?
What if they try something? I asked. What if
Then I'll handle it. He stepped closer, his voice dropping. You're mine now, Sophia. And I protect what's mine. Always.
The possessiveness should have bothered me. Instead, it sent heat through my entire body.
I'm not yours, I said, but it came out weak.
Keep telling yourself that, Firecracker. He walked toward the door, then paused. Oh, and Sophia? The gala is at The Plaza. Same ballroom where your engagement party was held.
My blood turned to ice. You can't be serious.
I'm always serious. Face your demons, or they'll haunt you forever. His gray eyes glittered. Besides, won't it be satisfying to walk into that room on my arm, looking like a queen, while they watch and realize they didn't break you?
He was right. God help me, he was right.
What time? I asked.
Seven. Don't be late.
He left, and I sat there processing everything.
Tonight, I'd walk into the same ballroom where Marcus had destroyed me. The same place where my life had shattered.
But this time, I wouldn't be the broken girl in a white dress.
I'd be the woman who'd learned to fight back.
My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number: Stay away from Cross. Last warning. —Someone who cares
I showed it to Damien immediately.
He read it, his expression going dark. Burner phone. Untraceable. They're trying to scare you.
It's working.
Good. He met my eyes. Let them see you scared. Then let them watch you walk into that gala anyway. Fear is only useful if you push through it.
And if I can't?
Then you were never the woman I thought you were. He headed for his office. But I don't make mistakes about people, Sophia. You're stronger than you know. Tonight, you're going to prove it.
The door closed between us.
I stared at the threatening text, my heart racing.
Then I deleted it and went back to work.
If they wanted to scare me into running, they'd picked the wrong woman.
I'd already lost everything once.
I had nothing left to fear.
Except maybe myself—and what I was becoming under Damien Cross's influence.
But that was a problem for another day.
Tonight, I had a gala to attend.
And an ex-fiancé to destroy.