PART 2: THE FIANCÉE THEY WANTED TO DESTROY
By morning, Sophia Blackwood was trending number one.
Not for her work.
Not for the concept Daniel had stolen.
For standing beside a billionaire groom after his bride vanished.
The headlines were cruel, hungry, and contradictory.
Mystery Fiancée Saves Faulkner Alliance.
Wedding Planner Becomes Bride Overnight.
From Dumped Girlfriend to Billionaire Engagement: Strategy or Scandal?
Sophia sat in Alexander’s black town car, scrolling until her thumb went numb.
“So that’s how she moved up,” one comment read. “Guess overtime was never the strategy.”
She locked the phone.
Alexander, seated beside her, noticed.
“They don’t know who you are.”
“That never stops people.”
“They care whether you deserve the joke.”
Sophia looked out the window at the gray city sliding past.
“Yesterday I was disposable. Today I represent the brand.”
“Use that.”
She turned to him. “You make everything sound like a merger.”
“You make everything sound like a wound.”
“Maybe because mine still bleed.”
He said nothing.
At Westbridge, the lobby was waiting.
Employees who had ignored her pain now watched her like she had entered carrying a bomb. Marianne hurried toward her with a smile too bright to be real.
“Sophia, can I steal you for a second? Your relationship with Mr. Faulkner is very important to the company.”
Sophia stared at her.
“Funny. Yesterday I was disposable.”
Marianne’s smile flickered. “Let’s move forward.”
Daniel appeared near the elevator with Camilla beside him.
Camilla’s eyes swept over Sophia’s tailored coat, then moved to Alexander standing behind her.
“Well,” Daniel said. “Dumped yesterday, engaged today. Efficient.”
Sophia smiled.
“At least I didn’t need to sleep with someone else’s boyfriend for leverage.”
Camilla’s face hardened.
Daniel stepped closer. “You think my brother’s name cleans you up?”
“You don’t get to define me anymore.”
Alexander moved before Daniel could speak again.
“Is there a problem?”
Daniel laughed. “You doing all this over a woman?”
Alexander’s expression did not change.
“Not over a woman. Because you don’t deserve to say her name.”
Marianne rushed in. “Mr. Faulkner, this is all a misunderstanding.”
Alexander looked at her coldly.
“Your employee gets humiliated in your lobby, and that is your word? Misunderstanding?”
“We’ll handle it.”
“No,” Alexander said. “I will.”
Sophia touched his sleeve.
Not because she wanted him to stop.
Because she wanted to stand on her own feet while he stood near enough to remind the room she was no longer alone.
She looked at Daniel.
“You want to humiliate me because deep down you know the talent was never yours.”
Daniel’s smile thinned. “Careful.”
“You stole my proposal and seven years of my life.”
“You think my brother keeps you safe forever?”
Alexander stepped forward.
Sophia lifted one hand.
“No,” she said. “Let him speak. Men like Daniel always confess when they think they’re winning.”
Daniel’s face flushed.
Camilla pulled his arm. “Daniel, not here.”
Sophia gave him one last look.
“My biggest regret was ever loving you.”
Then she walked past him into the elevator.
Her knees started shaking only after the doors closed.
Alexander noticed.
“You handled that well.”
“Don’t flatter me. I’m still shaking.”
“But you didn’t step back.”
Sophia looked at him.
Neither did you, she thought.
But she said nothing.
That evening was Alexander’s family dinner.
The Faulkner mansion sat on the edge of the city behind iron gates and old trees, all limestone, polished windows, and money old enough to speak softly. Sophia arrived in a black dress chosen by Alexander’s stylist, though she had refused three diamond necklaces and one pair of shoes she said looked like “financial intimidation.”
Alexander’s mother, Eleanor Faulkner, greeted her in the drawing room.
Eleanor was elegant in a way that did not ask permission. Silver hair swept back. Pearls at her throat. Eyes sharp enough to find the seam in any story.
“So,” Eleanor said. “You’re Sophia.”
“Good evening, Mrs. Faulkner.”
“Your manners are acceptable. Better than I expected.”
“Your honesty is immediate. Better than I expected.”
Alexander coughed once.
Eleanor’s eyes narrowed with interest.
Dinner was worse.
Daniel came. So did Camilla.
Sophia should have expected it, but seeing them at the long candlelit table still sent a cold ripple through her body. Daniel looked comfortable, as if family wealth had forgiven him in advance. Camilla wore emerald silk and Sophia’s old pearls.
Eleanor lifted her wineglass.
“She used to plan our weddings,” she said, looking at Sophia. “Now she eats at the family table. Does she even know which fork to use?”