Chapter 7: Whispers in Diamonds and Danger
1227 Words
—"She walked into the ballroom as his wife." But she departed with a feeling of something much more dangerous—his frailty.
The limo purred as it drove up in front of the Marlowe Grand Ballroom, a famous place in Manhattan that is known for its richness and tradition.
Sophia didn't move at all while sitting next to Mason in the backseat.
The midnight-blue dress that had been painstakingly made for her fit her like liquid silk and made it hard for her to breathe. Her long hair was combed to one side in soft waves, showing off the beautiful diamond earrings that she hadn't asked for, hadn't bought, but were now hers.
Because everything belonged to him.
And now she was too.
Mason sat next to her in a black tuxedo with a neat collar and a gorgeous bow tie. But it wasn't the clothes that made him a threat. It was the way he wore power like a second skin. Effortlessly. Commandingly.
Sophia’s hands were sweaty in her gloves.
“Relax,” Mason said, without looking at her. “You’re going to make headlines no matter what. Might as well control the narrative.”
“I’m not good at this,” she continued, voice barely audible.
“You’re doing better than you think.”
He glanced at her then—just a second too long.
And that was all it took.
Her heart tripped.
The door opened. Camera flashes burst like fireworks.
The world was watching.
And just like that, Mason Davis stepped out, offered his hand… and helped his wife into the platform.
Sophia clung to his arm as they entered the hall.
Opulence didn’t even begin to define it.
Golden lights hovered like galaxies overhead. Crystal glasses gleamed beneath the candles. The air smelled like roses, champagne, and secrets.
Heads turned.
Conversations paused.
A hundred top eyes settled on them with trained smiles and secret daggers.
Sophia felt her back straighten.
She wasn't just the girl from Brooklyn anymore.
Tonight, she was Mrs. Davis.
She felt Mason’s grasp tighten on her waist as a particularly sharp-looking older woman approached. Her silver hair was pinned exactly, and her lips were painted in a shade of red that hinted of peril.
“Diana,” Mason welcomed stiffly.
Sophia gulped.
Diana Davis. Mason’s mother.
“Darling,” Diana purred with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “And this must be the… blushing bride.”
Sophia smiled as best she could. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Davis.”
“Oh, I’m sure it is,” Diana said effortlessly. “It must be quite the adjustment… from your little neighborhood to all this.”
Sophia’s cheeks stung, but Mason stepped in.
“She’s adjusted faster than anyone,” he observed coolly. “That’s what makes her perfect.”
Sophia blinked.
Did he just defend her?
Diana’s smile thinned, but she moved on.
“That dress is Dior. Smart choice,” she said, scanning Sophia’s figure. “Of course, confidence can’t be bought.”
Sophia met her eyes. “Neither can class.”
Mason choked quietly. Diana’s eyes rose.
Sophia smiled sweetly and took a sip of champagne, even though she wasn’t drinking. The baby. Always the baby.
But her hands didn’t shake anymore.
She was learning to survive this world—one insult at a time.
Later, after too many smiles and too many photos, Sophia snuck away to the terrace for air.
The city lights shimmered in the night, reflecting the glitter lingering on her skin.
She breathed.
“Don’t let her get to you.”
Mason.
He stood behind her, his words low, his presence unmistakable.
“I didn’t,” she answered, lifting her head. “Though I might need a manual for surviving your mother.”
He chuckled gently. “If someone ever writes it, I’ll pay a billion for it.”
Sophia turned to face him.
For the first time that evening, he wasn’t the CEO. He was just a dude.
Tired. Quiet.
Beautiful.
“Why did you say I was perfect? ” she asked, searching his eyes.
He glanced at her for a long moment.
Then, gently, he stepped closer.
“You handled her better than I ever could,” he added. “And you didn’t cry. That makes you stronger than ninety percent of this room.”
Sophia looked down. “I almost did.”
“But you didn’t.”
Their eyes locked.
The breeze grabbed her hair and he reached out, brushing a strand behind her ear.
“You don’t have to pretend to be okay all the time,” he remarked quietly. “Not with me.”
Her heart cracked open.
And then, from within the ballroom—a familiar voice.
“Sophia.”
She froze.
Mason’s hand dropped.
Lucas.
He stepped onto the deck like a shadow from a forgotten existence. His emerald eyes rested on her—and then on Mason.
“What are you doing here? ” Mason demanded, already stepping between them.
Lucas ignored him. His eyes were just for Sophia.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
“Mason,” Sophia said swiftly. “Let me speak to him. Please.”
Mason halted.
Then he turned to her. “Two minutes. Then I come back out here.”
And with that, he disappeared back inside.
Leaving her alone with the guy who had once held her heart… and broken it.
Lucas stepped closer. “You shouldn’t be here with him.”
“I’m his wife.”
“By contract,” he spat. “Not love.”
Sophia flinched. “You left me. You don’t get to question who I married.”
He dug inside his jacket pocket—and brought out a picture.
A ultrasonography.
Her breath caught.
“I saw this,” he said. “Your friend posted it and tagged you. I didn’t know, Soph. I swear.”
She snatched the picture from his hands, fingers shaking.
“That’s our baby,” he muttered.
She nodded.
“I’m going to fight for both of you,” he added, voice heavy with emotion. “I won’t walk away again.”
Sophia peered up.
There was the boy she had loved once.
But there was also a guy inside… yearning to undo his past.
“I can’t do this right now,” she whimpered.
“I’m not asking you to choose tonight,” Lucas added. “But I had to say it. I still love you. And I will fight for you.”
And suddenly he was gone.
Mason returned moments later, jaw clinched. “Are you okay? ”
Sophia nodded.
But her world was swirling.
Two dudes.
One child.
And a storm of feelings she could no longer manage.
That night, Mason didn’t return to the master chamber.
He went to the study.
Sophia sat on the side of the bed, clutching the sonogram in her hands.
She wanted to cry.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she whispered to the tiny creature growing inside her.
“Your daddy broke me,” she said. “And your uncle is trying to fix me. But I don’t know who to trust.”
She lay back, closed her eyes.
And dreamed of a life where love wasn’t so complex.
But she realized that life didn’t exist for individuals like her.
Not anymore.
- Writer
