THE FORGOTTEN WILSON

Chapter 6: Breaking the Chessboard

All eyes at the massive table remained fixed on Sophia, the silence stretching until it felt thick and suffocating. The heavy pressure weighed down on her chest. Should she disappoint her selfish father by refusing Alexander right here in front of the most powerful family in the city?

There was nothing special about Alexander in her opinion. Hell, she wasn't even feeling a single spark.

"Hmmm, I..." Sophia began to stammer, her voice catching in her throat.

"I think we should allow the two of them to talk privately for a while before finally making a decision," Vivian spoke up, her voice calm but firm.

She saw right through her daughter’s hesitation. To prevent an absolute disaster on the dining floor, Vivian knew she had to step in.

Old Master Wilson stroked his chin thoughtfully, his sharp eyes darting between Sophia and his grandson. "It’s not a bad idea."

Even though Harry Whitmore didn't like the interruption one bit, he had no choice but to nod in agreement since the Old Master had already given his approval. Still, a scary thought crept into Harry's mind, making him deeply uneasy. He feared Sophia was trying to pull something funny; otherwise, why would she take so long to reply to a royal offer?

"No problem then. Shall we?" Alexander stood up, adjusting his wine-colored suit jacket and acting like a perfect gentleman as he gestured toward the grand hallway leading to a private guestroom.

"I think she is just feeling a little shy," Vivian added smoothly to the remaining men, successfully easing the thick tension left behind.

.............

"Such a lovely home you have here," Sophia said as the heavy doors of the guestroom closed behind them. She didn't really know how to start the conversation, but she needed to say something.

Surprisingly, she realized she wasn't even nervous. Compared to the sudden, breathless fluster she felt during her very first encounter with Benjamin, standing here with the heir to the Wilson empire felt completely hollow.

"Yeah, our home is one of a kind," Alexander declared, a boastful smirk playing on his lips as he leaned against a polished mahogany table. "I’ve heard about the wonderful things you’ve achieved in your dad’s empire. I mean, you guys were of pretty low standards back then, so I’ve got to hand it to you. Would you like to give me some tips?"

*Wow,* Sophia thought inwardly, a cold wave of disgust washing over her. *This man is somehow even worse than my dad.* On their very first private meeting, this was his opening speech? And what did he mean by 'low standards'?

"Don't flatter me, it’s not like we’ve achieved that much," Sophia replied, her voice clipping with a sharp, annoyed edge. "And it was mostly my dad's doing anyway. So maybe you should ask him for tips."

If he just wanted to treat her like a corporate trophy or talk about business metrics, there was absolutely no reason for her to be here. She didn't fancy his arrogance at all, and she expected a man to at least show a shred of consideration.

"Are you upset?" Alexander asked, catching the sudden icy shift in her tone.

"No, I’m not. Why would I be?" Sophia replied, forcing her expression to smooth out into a calm, unbothered mask.

Sensing his earlier mistake, Alexander quickly tried to smooth things over. "All right, enough talk about business. Why don't you tell me more about yourself?"

"There is not much to say," Sophia said flatly, completely detached from the conversation. "Other than the fact that I’m an easygoing person. I'm an introvert who doesn't like sports of any kind. I prefer being left alone when I'm angry... and oh, I love sweet food. What about you?"

She spoke without a hint of emotion, which actually surprised her. There wasn't an ounce of shyness in her; she just wanted to get this over with.

Alexander, however, was completely captivated. He stared at her sharp features, finding her independent, blunt attitude incredibly refreshing compared to the standard socialites who fawned over his money. "Well, I love watching soccer, clubbing, and having fun. I’m definitely not much of an introvert. Which makes us a perfect match, doesn't it?" He tilted his head, his tone practically begging for her approval.

Sophia gave a slight, humorless chuckle.

"Well, it’s not like we have much of a say in this arrangement," Sophia said, using his eager energy to her advantage. "I just want to make sure things are genuinely good between us. I don't want to be married off for the sole purpose of a business transaction."

With every word that left her lips, Alexander felt himself falling harder. He was completely hooked. "Yeah, I completely agree with you. In fact, I think we should definitely meet tomorrow to discuss this further. Let's go out for lunch."

Sophia saw her exit strategy. She offered him a polite, diplomatic smile. "Tomorrow sounds perfect, Alexander. Let's save the rest of our chat for then, so we don't keep our families waiting at the table any longer."

Relieved and eager to impress, Alexander agreed immediately, escorting her back to the banquet hall. Sophia gave a subtle nod to her mother, signaling that the immediate crisis was handled. The dinner concluded with a smooth, tentative agreement to let the young couple court, saving face for both families.

.................................

After saying their formal goodbyes, the Whitmores' luxury sedan merged onto the dark, rain-slicked highway. Sitting in the back seat, Sophia completely tuned out the sound of the engine. She kept thinking about only one person: Benjamin. No matter how hard she tried to focus on the corporate stakes, his face completely consumed her mind.

An intense, undeniable heat began to bloom deep inside her. The memory of the night they shared—the raw, overwhelming shift of her boundaries—left her skin tingling underneath the heavy crimson gown. She wanted to escape the suffocating walls of her family's expectations. She wanted to feel alive again, the way she only felt when she was looking into his eyes.

Once they arrived back at the Whitmore estate, the house was a whirlwind of activity. Harry, who had already arranged his travel bags, was preparing to leave for a critical overseas business meeting that would take up a week of his time. He had only delayed his departure to attend the Old Master's dinner. After offering a brief, transactional greeting to his wife and daughter, he climbed into his car and left.

With her father officially out of the city, the heavy shackles around Sophia finally snapped. She turned to her mother, trying to keep her voice steady. "Mom, I think I'm going to spend the night at Kate's place. I really need a break after tonight."

Vivian looked at her daughter’s tired eyes and patted her arm gently. "Go ahead, sweetheart. You deserve some time to unwind."

Twenty minutes later, a sleek car pulled up into the dimly lit, ordinary neighborhood outside Benjamin’s building. Sophia stepped out, her crimson gown contrasting sharply against the concrete apartment complex. She walked up the stairs, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs.

*Ding Dong.* Inside, Benjamin pulled open the door, wearing a simple gray t-shirt. "Hi—"

The word had barely left his lips when Sophia stepped across the threshold. She grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him down as her lips slammed into his with a fierce, desperate hunger.

Benjamin froze, completely shocked and caught off guard by the sudden explosion of warmth and scent of jasmine. But as a man, looking down at the flushed, breathtaking face of the woman in his arms, the resistance inside him completely shattered. He wrapped his large hands firmly around her waist, lifting her effortlessly as he kicked the front door shut behind them, sealing them away from the rest of the world.

He carried her backward into the dimly lit bedroom, their lips never parting as the heavy silence of the apartment dissolved into the sound of ragged, uneven breathing. Benjamin laid her down gently on the mattress, his hands moving with a sudden, protective reverence as he unfastened the zipper of the crimson gown, letting the expensive fabric pool around her shoulders. Under the faint moonlight filtering through the window, she looked absolutely ethereal.

When he leaned down, his touch was no longer just gentle—it was consuming. Every stroke of his hands against her bare skin sent a wild shudder through her frame, driving away the numbness of the Wilson estate and replacing it with an overwhelming, intoxicating heat. Sophia arched into his touch, her fingers anchoring tightly into his hair, pulling him closer as the boundaries between their two completely different worlds burned away entirely in the dark.