Bound by fortune

chapter five. settling down before the unexpected

Sophia’s Pov

Three weeks into our marriage, I was beginning to think that maybe, I'd gotten lucky with Alexander Stone.

Despite the clinical nature of our arrangement, Alex had proven to be surprisingly considerate. He brought me coffee every morning perfectly prepared

with two sugars and just a splash of cream, exactly how I liked it though I'd never told him my preference. He asked about my day and actually listened to my answers. When the cameras weren't rolling, he was funnier and more relaxed than I'd expected, with a dry sense of humor that caught me off guard.

"You know," I said one evening as we sat on his couch watching a movie, "you're really not what I expected."

"What did you expect?" Alex asked, pausing the film.

"A cold, calculating businessman who only cared about profit margins and stock prices."

"Maybe I am, and I'm just an excellent actor."

"No," I shook my head, tucking my legs under me. "I saw you yesterday at the children's hospital charity event. You spent forty minutes talking to that little girl about her drawings of princesses. That wasn't acting."

Something shifted in Alex's expression, a flash of vulnerability he quickly tried to hide. "You're very observant."

"It's part of my job. When you plan weddings, you learn to read people quickly. Brides, grooms, family members everyone has tells that show you what they really need."

"And what do you read about me?"

I studied his face, taking in the tired lines around his eyes and the way he held himself like he was carrying invisible weight. "You're lonely. You work too hard because it's easier than dealing with personal relationships. You don't trust easily, but when you do care about someone, you'd move mountains for them."

Alex looked away, staring out at the city lights. "You should be careful about trusting me too quickly, Sophia."

"Why would you say that?"

Before Alex could answer, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen, and his entire body tensed.

"I need to take this," he said, standing abruptly and walking toward his home office.

He didn't quite close the door completely, and I could hear fragments of his conversation drifting down the hallway.

"...still haven't found anything concrete..."

"...she doesn't know about..."

"...need to keep her completely out of this..."

My blood ran cold. He was talking about me.

When Alex returned to the living room fifteen minutes later, I pretended to be absorbed in the movie we'd been watching. But inside, my mind was racing with questions and a growing sense of unease.

"Everything okay?" I asked casually.

"Just work issues." Alex settled back onto the couch, but the easy atmosphere we'd been enjoying was gone. He seemed distant now, distracted.

"Anything I can help with?"

"No." His response was quick, almost sharp. "Nothing you need to worry about."

The next morning, I woke to find Alex already gone. There was a note on the kitchen counter written in his neat handwriting.

"Had to leave early for emergency meeting. the car will pick you up at 10 am for the spa appointment.see you tonight.

The spa day was part of our filming schedule a segment about how we were spending our honeymoon period enjoying a couple's activities around the city. But as I sat in the back of the hired car, I couldn't stop thinking about that phone conversation.

The spa was everything I'd expected from a high-end Manhattan establishment marble surfaces, soft music, and staff who treated me like royalty because of my new last name. But something felt off. The other clients kept staring at me, whispering behind their cucumber face masks. When I looked out the window of the relaxation room, I noticed the same black SUV that had been parked outside Alex's building was now sitting in the spa's parking lot.

"Mrs. Stone?" A massage therapist appeared beside my lounge chair. "I have a message for you. Your husband called and asked if you could meet him at his office instead of going home after your treatments."

"He did?"

"Yes, ma'am. He said it was somewhat urgent and asked me to make sure you got the message."

An hour later, I stood in the impressive lobby of Stone Industries, feeling underdressed in my post-spa casual clothes. The building was everything I'd expected, all glass and steel and expensive marble, with the kind of understated luxury that whispered rather than shouted about wealth.

Alex's assistant, a woman named Claire with perfect posture and a cool demeanor, looked me up and down like I was something unpleasant that had been tracked in on someone's shoe.

"Mr. Stone is in a meeting," Claire said crisply. "You'll need to wait."

"He asked me to come. He said it was urgent."

"I'm sure he did." The woman's tone suggested she thought I was lying.

I was about to argue when Alex's office door opened. He stepped out with two men in expensive suits, and his expression when he saw me was one of complete surprise.

"Sophia? What are you doing here?"

"The massage therapist at the spa said you called and wanted me to meet you here because it was urgent."

Alex's eyes narrowed. "I didn't call the spa. I've been in meetings all afternoon."

One of the men with Alex stepped forward, and I noticed the badge clipped to his belt.

"Mrs. Stone, I'm Detective Rodriguez with the NYPD. I need to ask you a few questions about your former fiancé, Marcus Williams."

The floor seemed to tilt beneath my feet. "Questions about Marcus? Why?"

Alex moved to stand beside me, and I could feel the tension radiating from his body.

"When did you last have contact with Mr. Williams?" Detective Rodriguez asked.

"About four months ago, when I found out he'd stolen money from our business account and left town with my former best friend." I looked between Alex and the detective. "Why are you asking me this?"

"Mr. Williams was found dead yesterday morning," the detective said gently. "His body was discovered in the Hudson River. The medical examiner estimates he's been dead for approximately two weeks."

I grabbed Alex's arm to keep from falling. "Dead? Marcus is dead?"

"We have reason to believe it was homicide," Detective Rodriguez continued. "And according to our investigation, you and your husband had recent contact with the victim."

I looked up at Alex, expecting to see confusion or shock on his face. Instead, I saw something that made my stomach drop.

Guilt.

"Alex," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "What did you do?"