Chapter 5:Boundaries
1183 Words
Sophia looked awake, almost confused by the velvet canopy above her head. The beddings were so soft compared to anything she'd ever slept on, the soft smell of an expensive fragrance persistent in the room. The familiar feeling quickly faded replaced by this wasn't home.
This was Blackwood Tower.
Her stomach dropped. Images from the night before played back: Henry’s arm embraced her waist, his soft voice declaring her his fiancée to the press, the ride here with her objecting and him annoyingly calm. She sat up quickly, heart panting.
Oliver.
She kicked her legs out of the bed and managed to stand on her feet just as the door opened.
Henry stood against the frame, already dressed in another nice clean suit, hair combed in a way as if he hadn’t slept at all. His eyes looked over her with an unreadable expression.
“You’re awake,” he said calmly. “Good”. We have a schedule.”
Sophia folded her arms, raging. “Where’s my phone? I need to call my brother. “I’m pretty sure he’s worried sick already.”
Henry raised a brow. “You don’t have to worry your brother is fine.”
“How do you even know that?!” Her voice rose. “You don’t even know him.”
“I had someone check on him.” He sounded so casual that it made her wink. “He’s safe. Now—“
“Don’t ‘now’ me,” Sophia yelled, stepping closer. “You don’t have to keep me here like I’m some…prisoner. I need to tell Oliver myself.”
For a moment, something wavered in Henry’s eyes— annoyance, maybe even regret—but then his expression cooled again. “You can speak with him. Later. After breakfast.”
Sophia gripped her fists. “You’re impossible.”
His lips arched faintly, almost a smirk. “So I’ve been told.”
Before she could fling something at him, another knock came. The door opened quietly, and Elena Carter stepped inside with a breakfast tray.
“Good morning, Miss Loren,” Elena said warmly, her presence instantly easing the room. “I thought you might be hungry. The chef went extreme, as usual.”
Sophia breathed out, shoulders calm just a little.
Elena set the tray down on the table, her calm presence a solace after Henry’s piercing coolness.
“Thanks,” Sophia said, her voice calmer.
Elena gave her a warm smile. “Don’t thank me. I know last night was… Overwhelming. Trust me, when I say I've seen worse darling.” She winked, as if they were reading each other's minds.
Sophia almost laughed despite herself. “Wait you mean worse than being fake-engaged to your boss?”
“Much worse.” Elena lowered her voice furtively. “Once, a model at a Blackwood hotel opening caught her hair on fire while leaning over a candle centerpiece. Compared to that, you’re practically graceful.”
Sophia exhaled loudly, covering her mouth. For the first time since her last experience at the gala, she felt at ease.
“Be sure to talk to me about anything, Sophia,” Elena said calmly. “I know this world of Henry’s isn’t something easy to step into, and Henry..” Her eyes turned towards him with mild vexation. “… isn’t exactly welcoming. But I’ve been around him long enough to translate.”
Henry rolled his eyes. “ I certainly don’t need a translator.”
“Yes you do,” Elena said sweetly.
Sophia forced a smile. For a brief moment, the weight on her chest reduced.
But Henry wasn’t finished. “Eat. Then change. You’ll be accompanying me to lunch.”
Sophia's smile died. “Lunch? With you? Obviously not.”
Henry's eyes became more intense. “You’re my fiancée remember? The world already believes so. If you’re not by my side, the entire conception crumbles.”
Her cheeks burned. “I didn’t sign up for any of this!”
“No,” he said quietly, his eyes looking into hers, “but just in case you have forgotten you agreed the moment you didn’t walk away.”
She opened her mouth, ready to admit it, but words failed. Damn him.
By noon, Sophia was dressed in a sleek red dress Elena had pulled from a rack sent up by some fashion house. It wasn’t her style— too chic, too expensive—but Elena’s words of encouragement made her endure it.
“You look incredibly beautiful,” Elena said adjusting the edge.
“Just remember: shoulders back, chin up, don’t let them smell fear. You’re tougher than you think.”
Sophia swallowed hard, nodding. “Thanks.”
Downstairs, the car ride with Henry was torment. He scrolled through his phone like he didn’t exist, and yet she could feel his presence stagnant, humming against her skin.
At the restaurant, flashbulbs went off immediately. Sophia froze, but Henry’s hand slid on her waist, firm and commanding.
“Smile,” he said, “I would appreciate it if you could put on a happier face for the sake of appearances.”
She forced a smile, murmuring, “You kind of are.”
Inside, they were seated with two older investors—men with sharp suits and sharper eyes. Henry slipped smoothly into work mode, voice calm, gestures controlled. Sophia tried to disappear… until one of the men turned to her.
“So, Miss Loren,” the investor asked. “Tell us—how did you capture Henry Blackwood’s attention?”
Her heart faltered. Henry's eyes turned to her, sharp and icy.
Sophia took a deep breath, lifting her chin. “By mistake,” she said simply, a hint smile on her lips. “Literally. I spilled a glass of wine all over him.”
The table laughed. Even the investors were delighted.
Henry’s jaw tightened, but his eyes just for a second shimmered with reluctant admiration.
Sophia’s composure grew. She added lightly, “He wasn’t very attractive about it either. But then again, I suppose no one likes wearing their drink.”
More laughter. Henry’s fingers tapped the table, his control unraveling.
Afterwards, as they exited the restaurant, he leaned down, voice low. “Do you enjoy making me look like a fool?”
Sophia smiled at him “Absolutely”
His eyes hardened, but instead of responding rudely, he opened the car door for her. The gesture was almost…well-mannered.
Almost.
Back at the Blackwood Tower, Sophia retreated to the balcony for air. The city extended below her glittering and distant. For a moment she let herself breathe.
Then Henry’s voice cut through the silence.
“You think this is all a game,” he said from behind her.
She turned, startled. He was leaning against the balustrade, eyes sharp.
Her breath caught. His eyes looked into hers, with an unblinking focused stare, dangerous.
She opened her mouth, searching for the right words, but the words felt stuck. For the first time, she spotted something in him that wasn’t coldness—something unfiltered, something genuine.
And it terrified her.
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