CHAPTER FIVE

SOPHIA’s POV

I stared at Eric for a moment, then looked back outside the window as the Rolls-Royce moved deeper into the estate.

The driveway curved around a massive fountain before stopping in front of an intimidating black-glass mansion guarded by armed security men.

The driver stepped out first and opened the door respectfully. Eric exited, then extended his hand to help me out. I stared at his hand for a second before taking it, I gathered the layers of my wedding dress and stepped out after him.

The air that brushed against my skin felt different. I inhaled deeply, catching the scent of fresh flowers drifting through the estate. It felt good.

My eyes drifted toward the mansion standing before me. It was a beauty to behold, just like the man standing beside me.

A middle-aged woman dressed in black hurried toward us from the entrance the moment she saw Eric.

“Welcome back, sir.”

Her eyes shifted toward me briefly, surprise flashed across her face as her eyes caught the diamond wedding ring sitting beautifully on my finger before she lowered her head respectfully.

“Ma’am.”

Eric started walking inside without another word, I followed gently behind, my hands lifted the layers of my dress for easy movement.

The interior of the mansion was even more intimidating. From the dark marble floors, towering glass walls, dim expensive lightning, modern artwork. Everything looked sparkly beautiful and luxurious.

The front doors shut behind us with a loud echo, slamming reality back into me.

I was standing inside Eric Prescott’s home, as his wife, my steps slowed unconsciously.

Eric noticed almost immediately and turned slightly toward me. “You look nervous.”

I sent him an inquisitive look, like should I not be.

He took one step closer and leaned toward me, whispering into my ear.

“You walked into a wedding hall and asked your father’s worst enemy to marry you in front of cameras and four hundred people. Nervousness came a little late.”

I exhaled deeply. That was a fair point.

“The housekeeper will show you to your room,” he added as he turned away.

“What do you want?” I asked, my voice unnervingly calm.

He looked back, straight into my eyes. “Time will tell.

Then he continued calmly. “Rule number one: real affection is not allowed.”

I frowned slightly.

“I mean neither of us is allowed to catch real feelings or fall in love with the other,” he clarified coldly. “This is a revenge game towards those who betrayed us both.”

The words fell on my ears like an order, reverberating loudly inside my head.

A female housekeeper approached carefully.

“Should I prepare the master bedroom, sir?”

I stared at Eric instinctively, he held my gaze for a second longer before answering calmly.

“No, prepare the east suite for Mrs. Prescott.”

The housekeeper nodded and left immediately.

Mrs. Prescott. I had heard the name too often today already, I should get used to it. But hearing people call me that still felt surreal.

I removed my heels slowly as exhaustion crashed into my body. Every part of my body ached, even breathing felt like a stressful job as I flexed my sore toes against the marble floor.

Eric noticed the shift in my expression.

“You should rest.”

I looked toward him carefully. “You’re surprisingly calm for someone who just got married unexpectedly.”

“I don’t react emotionally to things I already benefited from,” he replied bluntly.

The blunt honesty caught me off guard. Of course, this marriage benefited him too. That is the best answer to explain his actions earlier. His revenge, most importantly, access to the Carter empire.

I folded my arms slowly. “So that’s all this is to you?”

Eric’s cold grey eyes fixed on me for a second.

“What were you expecting? Romance?”

The coldness in his voice stung more than I expected. I looked away quickly, feeling stupid. I did not know why that bothered me in the first place.

Maybe because after the chaos all day, a foolish part of me wanted someone beside me who actually cared if I was falling apart. Instead, I had walked right into the arms of a man devoid of emotions

Eric walked toward the minibar near the fireplace and poured himself a drink.

“You regret it already?” he asked without looking at me.

I stayed quiet for a second, then answered honestly. “I don’t know.”

He took a sip of from the whiskey glass before finally looking back at me.

“You…” The words died abruptly in his throat as he heard footsteps descending from the stairs.

I followed his gaze, a younger man appeared at the top of the staircase wearing grey sweatpants and a white shirt. He stopped the second he saw me, shock written all over his face.

“Wait…” His eyes moved sporadically between I and Eric. “You actually married her?” His pace quickened as he walked down the stairs, his gaze still fixed on me.

I held his gaze for a few seconds. He looked younger than Eric, like he is in his late twenties. Similar grey eyes, same sharp jawline but unlike Eric’s coldness, this man carried restless energy.

Eric’s expression barely changed. “You’re still up, I thought you would be in bed already,” he said as he took another sip from the whiskey glass still in his hands.

The younger man scoffed. “I turned on the news and saw you kissing Roman Carter’s daughter in a wedding dress,” he replied. His gaze shifted briefly toward me and back to Eric. “Sleep became impossible after that,” he added.

His eyes shifted back toward me, he stretched out his hand with a grin. “Stefan Prescott.”

I shook his hand gently. “Sophia.”

“Oh, I know who you are.” Stefan laughed softly. “The entire country knows who you are tonight.”

Then his eyes dragged slowly over me before he muttered shamelessly. “Damn, you look hot as hell.”

Eric shot him a cold look.

“What?” Stefan defended. “I’m being honest.”

I almost smiled despite myself. Stefan walked toward the bar and grabbed Eric’s whiskey bottle casually.

“So,” he said while pouring himself a drink, “how exactly did this happen?”

“Bad decisions,” I answered with subtle sarcasm.

Stefan bursted into a loud laughter.

“Hmmm…Interesting. You already sound married.”

Eric looked irritated, Stefan was one of the few people comfortable enough to provoke him openly.

Still laughing faintly to himself, Stefan grabbed the remote carelessly and switched on the television. The screen lit up with a BREAKING NEWS banner.

I barely paid attention at first, until my father’s face suddenly appeared across the screen beside bold red headlines.

Then the reporter’s voice echoed through the mansion, my eyes widened in shock as I stared at the screen.

“How is this possible…?”