If I Could Hate You

Chapter 18 - Michael

I cut the call with Sophia and leaned back in my chair, laughing to myself. Always so stubborn, always so quick to challenge me. That woman had the audacity to call me out for having one of my men tail her, and she was right. If I had told her, she would have rejected it immediately. That was Sophia Bennett for you, fire wrapped in grace, impossible to control yet impossible to stay away from.

The study was dimly lit, with the amber glow of the desk lamp pooling across files scattered on the table. I poured myself a drink, letting the ice clink softly in the glass. For a few moments, I just sat there, thinking about her, imagining her annoyed expression when she confronted the man. The corners of my mouth pulled upward again. She was trouble, pure trouble.

My phone buzzed. The caller ID flashed Father. I straightened immediately, the smile vanishing, my muscles tightening the way they always did when he called.

“Father,” I said, picking up at once.

“Michael,” came his deep, commanding voice. “How are preparations for the press conference?”

I cleared my throat, trying to sound collected. “They are going well. We had a meeting today. Sophia suggested something that worked perfectly. Instead of simply facing the press about the incident, the conference will double as a memorial for our late employee. She outlined how we would honor the family, detail the compensation, emphasize security improvements, and present a united front.”

There was a brief silence, then my father hummed. “That is… very good. I must say, she has proven to be quite resourceful. She may be young, but she has vision.”

I swallowed before saying, “It was her idea entirely. You made the right decision in hiring her.”

His tone shifted slightly, more calculating. “Do you know why I truly hired her, Michael?”

I frowned. “I assumed it was her portfolio, her experience.”

“That, of course, but also something else,” he said smoothly. “The pictures. The ones of you and her outside the building. You remember them, yes?”

My grip on the glass tightened. “Yes.”

“Pulling her away from the public eye would have looked suspicious. People would have wondered what we were trying to hide. Having her lead the messaging for the conference as one of our official employees legitimizes the story. She is framed not as some mysterious woman clinging to you, but as a distraught coworker, one who broke down at the scene. The narrative becomes simple. You are the compassionate boss, consoling your staff. Nothing scandalous, nothing to question.”

I let out a slow breath. “That makes sense.”

“Of course it does. I did not build FitzGerald and Co. on weak moves. I built it on control. Every narrative must serve us.” His voice hardened. “Which brings me to the next part. I have been considering making a separate announcement during the conference.”

I shifted uneasily. “What kind of announcement?”

“Your engagement,” he said flatly. “You and Alya. It is time we made it official to the world. Better yet, we could go further, set a date for the wedding. Do you understand what that will do? The focus will shift entirely. Instead of dwelling on blood and violence, the press will feast on romance, wealth, and legacy. You, the heir of FitzGerald & Co., taking your bride. A perfect distraction.”

My heart stopped for a moment. Then before I even realized it, the word slipped out of my mouth.

“No.”

The silence that followed was deafening. My father did not hear that word from me. Not ever. My chest tightened as I realized what I had just said. My entire life had been built on obedience to him, on following orders without question. Yet now, I had said no.

I scrambled to cover it. “I mean… it is not the right time. Announcing it now could endanger Alya. We are already dealing with heightened tension after the incident. If her name becomes public in connection to me during all of this, she could be targeted. I cannot put her in danger. Not when things are this volatile.”

It was a lie, and I knew it. The real reason sat heavy in my chest. Sophia. If Alya was announced to the world as my fiancée, I would have to tell Sophia. I would have to watch the way her eyes would shutter, the way she would build a wall I could never break through. I should tell her, but I could not.

The silence on the line stretched. My father’s breathing was faint but sharp. I braced myself for his fury.

Finally, his voice came, slow and ragged. “Okay.”

My shoulders sagged in relief, but only slightly. That tone was dangerous. It meant he had registered my refusal and was filing it away, waiting for the right moment to use it against me.

“Are you sure, Michael?” he asked suddenly. “Are you absolutely sure there is nothing going on between you and Miss Bennett?”

My heart leapt into my throat. I forced my voice to remain steady. “Yes. Absolutely. Nothing is going on.”

“You know how I feel about office relationships. They compromise judgment, they complicate decisions. You are not just anyone. You are the heir of this company, the one who must carry our legacy forward. You already have a fiancée, a good match. Do not disappoint me.”

“I will not,” I said quickly. “I assure you, Father, there is nothing between us.”

“Good.” His tone softened slightly, though I knew it was only a surface act. “Then I trust you will handle the press conference with strength. The world must see FitzGerald and Co. standing taller than ever. I expect no less from my son.”

“Yes, Father.”

The line clicked, and the call ended.

I sat there for a long time, the phone still in my hand, the ice in my glass melting untouched. My pulse thudded in my ears. He had asked me directly if there was something between me and Sophia. I had lied without hesitation, but the truth was gnawing at me.

Every thought, every breath, every restless night circled back to her. Sophia Bennett, with her stubborn streak and sharp mind, her fiery tongue and soft heart. She was supposed to be an employee, nothing more. She was supposed to be temporary, a tool to fix the public narrative. But somehow, she had slipped past every defense I had built.

Now, I wanted to hate her. I wanted to push her away, to build walls and keep her at a distance. I wanted to remind myself of Alya, of duty, of legacy. But deep down, I knew I could not. The more I tried to resist, the more I found myself thinking of Sophia.

Her laughter haunted me. Her anger thrilled me. Her presence consumed me.

I set the glass down and buried my face in my hands, letting out a rough sigh.

I was Michael FitzGerald, heir to an empire. I was supposed to be untouchable, controlled, unshakable. But for the first time in my life, I was slipping.

And the cause of it was Sophia Bennett.