Beneath the Mask

Echoes of Richard

Sophie’s POV

The message from Richard wouldn’t leave my mind. “You’ll regret ignoring me.” Those five words kept replaying, louder with every breath I took. What did he want this time? After everything he’d already taken from me, what was left to demand?

I knew Richard well enough to not only make threats but to also carry them out. I couldn’t sleep that night, the darkness of my bedroom feeling more like a trap than a sanctuary. Every creak of the floorboards and distant hum of passing cars set my nerves on edge with every moment of my past flashing through my eyes.

By morning, I was a frayed wire, sparking with anxiety as I packed for Singapore. Fiona hovered near the doorway, watching me silently. She hadn’t said anything since last night’s argument, but I could feel her judgment.

“Fiona,” I said, zipping my bag with sharp, jerky movements. “Did you call James? Did you send the money back?”

She hesitated, her hands twisting together. “No. I didn’t.”

I turned to face her, my voice dropping to a hiss. “Why not?”

Her expression was a mix of guilt and defiance. “Because I think you’re wrong, Sophie. I know what you’re scared of, but James doesn’t know your real identity. So why don’t you use this opportunity to make money, if not for yourself but at least for your little brother’s sake!”

“I-I’m just scared! I’ve been able to perfectly hide my identity as Clara and now…” I paused for a little while, “Performing for James, my boss at work could risk my secret identity out in the public and now Richard’s return…”

“Sophie, it’s going to be fine. I’ll be with you all through the way, After all, I'm your manager” she said in a playful but reassuring tone.

I forced a short smile, then cut myself off, biting my lip. I couldn’t explain it, not fully. Fiona wouldn’t understand the precarious line I was walking. James Blackwood was dangerous in his own way, but Richard Liam… he was chaos incarnate, a wildfire that consumed everything in its path.

“Just promise me you’ll fix this while I’m gone,” I said, my voice strained.

Fiona didn’t answer, but her silence was enough.

By the time I landed in Singapore, exhaustion clung to me like a second skin. My nerves were raw, every noise amplified as I made my way to the hotel. The Magnate Global Summit was a hive of activity, the city buzzing with executives and media teams.

But despite the chaos around me, my mind kept circling back to Richard. The message on my phone felt like a ticking bomb in my pocket.

I tried to push it aside as I prepared for the summit, reviewing James’s instructions. This wasn’t just about representing Blackwood Enterprises—it was a test, a chance to prove I could handle the weight of his empire without him hovering over my shoulder.

The first day passed in a blur of meetings and presentations. I focused on keeping my composure, delivering pitches with the poise James had drilled into me over years of working together. By the end of the day, I felt like I had barely made a dent in the pile of tasks awaiting me.

When I finally returned to my hotel room that night, the sight of the neatly made bed and warm lighting almost lulled me into a false sense of safety. Almost.

My phone buzzed as I sat down, and the moment of peace shattered.

It wasn’t Richard this time.

It was James.

“Update?”

My fingers hovered over the keyboard. I didn’t want to respond, not after last night’s veiled threat over the phone. But ignoring James wasn’t an option.

“Everything is on track sir,” I replied curtly.

The three dots appeared immediately.

“I need details. Call me.”

I stared at the message, dread curling in my stomach. Of course, he wouldn’t let me off with a text.

I dialed reluctantly, bracing myself as his voice cut through the line.

“Sophie,” he said, his tone crisp and demanding. “What’s the feedback from Delnut Enterprises?”

“They’re impressed,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “They want to discuss a potential joint venture tomorrow.”

“Good,” he said, but there was no warmth in his approval. “And the other executives?”

I rattled off the details, the conversation turning into a meticulous debriefing. James didn’t miss a single detail, his questions slicing through my explanations like a scalpel.

When the call ended, I exhaled shakily, my chest tightening with a familiar weight. I was used to his intensity, but tonight, it felt heavier. Darker.

I set my phone down and walked to the window, staring out at the glittering city below. My reflection stared back at me, pale and tired, the bags under my eyes betraying the toll of the last 48 hours.

But then I noticed something in the glass.

A shadow.

I spun around, my heart slamming against my ribs.

The room was empty.

I stood frozen, my pulse thundering in my ears. Had I imagined it? Or was my paranoia finally getting the better of me?

Shaking my head, I forced myself to breathe. I double-checked the locks on the door and the windows, reassuring myself that I was safe.

But the uneasy feeling wouldn’t leave.

Hours later, as I lay in bed, sleep remained elusive. My mind kept replaying Richard’s message, James’s offer. Every sound outside my door made me jump, every flicker of light made me think of shadows that weren’t there.

And then, just as I was beginning to drift off, my phone buzzed.

My heart sank as I reached for it, dread pooling in my stomach.

Another message.

From Richard.

“Did you really think you could hide from me forever?”

I bolted upright, my hands trembling as I stared at the screen.

Then came another message.

“I know where you are.”

I jumped out of bed, pacing the room as panic surged through me. He was bluffing. He had to be. There was no way he could find me—not here, not in Singapore.

But then my phone buzzed again, and this time, it wasn’t a message.

It was a photo.

I stared at it, my blood turning to ice.

It was me. Taken today, at the summit.

My breath hitched as the final message came through.

“See you soon, Sophie.”

The phone slipped from my hands, clattering to the floor as I backed away. My mind raced, searching for answers, for escape routes.

But there was no escape.

The past had found me, and it wasn’t letting go.