The crisp evening air carried the faint scent of pine and sea breeze, mingling with the soft rustle of leaves in the garden behind the Remington estate. Lanterns hung delicately along the path, casting a warm golden glow over the cobblestones. Andrew had planned every detail of this evening meticulously, yet his heart raced with an unfamiliar nervousness. For a man who thrived under the weight of high-stakes negotiations and corporate strategy, this moment felt more daunting than any boardroom deal.
He stood near the garden's fountain, its gentle trickling sound calming him slightly. In his hand was a small velvet box, heavy with the significance of the promise it carried. Sophia would be arriving any moment, and Andrew rehearsed his words silently. They had come to mean everything to him in such a short time. Tonight, he would make her his forever—or so he hoped.
Sophia Russo stepped out onto the terrace, her crimson wrap draped loosely over her shoulders. The dinner party inside was still in full swing, but she had slipped away unnoticed, as she often did. Andrew had asked her to meet him here, and she had sensed the weight in his voice when he'd whispered the request earlier. Her intuition—sharpened by years of navigating her father's world—told her that tonight was significant.
Her steps faltered slightly as she saw him standing by the fountain, his figure framed by the soft glow of the lanterns. He turned as she approached, his expression lighting up in a way that made her stomach tighten. It was an expression of pure, unguarded love. And it terrified her.
"Andrew," she said softly, her lips curving into a hesitant smile. "What's all this?"
"I wanted a quiet moment with you," he said, closing the space between them. "Away from all the noise and expectations."
Sophia tilted her head, studying him. There was something in his tone—a mix of determination and vulnerability. "You're not usually one for theatrics," she teased lightly, though her pulse quickened. "What's on your mind?"
Andrew reached for her hand, his grip firm but gentle. "You are," he said simply. "You're all I think about, Sophia."
Her breath caught, and for a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to imagine a life free from shadows, where Andrew's world of light could truly be hers. But Matteo's voice echoed in her mind, a constant reminder of the weight she carried: "Do what you must. Keep him close. But never forget where your loyalties lie."
Andrew took a deep breath, his expression softening as he knelt on one knee. Sophia's heart slammed against her chest as the velvet box in his hand snapped open, revealing a stunning diamond ring that seemed to catch the light in a thousand facets.
"Sophia Russo," he began, his voice steady but thick with emotion. "You've changed my life in ways I never imagined. You've shown me what it means to truly feel alive, to dream beyond the walls of expectation. I can't imagine my future without you in it. Will you marry me?"
For a moment, the world seemed to still. The trickling of the fountain, the distant hum of the party, even the gentle breeze—all faded into silence as Sophia stared down at the man who had given her a glimpse of something she had long believed unattainable.
Tears stung her eyes as she nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "Yes, Andrew. I'll marry you."
Relief and joy spread across his face as he slid the ring onto her finger, rising to embrace her. Sophia let herself melt into his arms, allowing the warmth of the moment to wash over her. But beneath the surface, her mind churned with the weight of what she had just agreed to. Her love for Andrew was real, but so were the chains of her family's expectations.
The announcement was made at the dinner party moments later, met with an eruption of applause and cheers. Guests surrounded the couple, showering them with congratulations and raising glasses of champagne in their honor. Sophia smiled graciously, her hand resting in Andrew's as he proudly introduced her to his family's closest allies. Yet, even as she played the part of the glowing fiancée, she felt Evelyn Remington's sharp gaze lingering on her.
Evelyn had remained seated during the announcement, her expression a masterful blend of polite approval and quiet scrutiny. As the room buzzed with excitement, she leaned toward Philip, her voice low.
"Well," she said, her tone carefully measured. "That was…unexpected."
Philip chuckled softly, oblivious to her unease. "Andrew's always had a streak of spontaneity. Besides, Sophia seems lovely."
"She is lovely," Evelyn agreed, though her eyes never left Sophia. "But lovely isn't always trustworthy."
Philip frowned. "You're being paranoid. She's just nervous. It's a big night."
"Perhaps," Evelyn replied, though doubt lingered in her tone. Years of navigating the intricacies of New York's social and business circles had taught her to trust her instincts, and something about Sophia didn't sit right. There was guardedness in her eyes, a hesitation in her movements that Evelyn couldn't ignore.
Later that evening, as the last of the guests departed, Andrew and Sophia shared a quiet moment on the balcony. The city stretched out before them, its lights twinkling like a sea of stars. Andrew wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close.
"I still can't believe you said yes," he teased, pressing a kiss to her temple. "I thought I might have to beg."
Sophia laughed softly, though her chest felt tight. "You don't strike me as the begging type."
"For you, I'd do anything," he said, his tone light but sincere.
Sophia's smile faltered as guilt twisted in her gut. She turned away, gazing out at the skyline. "Andrew, are you sure about this? About me?"
He frowned, gently turning her to face him. "Of course I'm sure. Why would you even ask that?"
She hesitated, searching for the right words. "I just… I don't want to bring any complications into your life."
Andrew cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheek. "Life is complicated, Sophia. But I know what I want. And I want you."
Her chest tightened further, and she forced a smile, nodding. "I want you too."
In the privacy of her room later that night, Sophia sat on the edge of her bed, staring down at the engagement ring sparkling on her finger. It felt heavy, not because of its size but because of what it represented. She thought of her father's instructions, of Dante's warnings, of the double life she had been leading since the day she met Andrew.
Her phone buzzed on the bedside table, and she glanced at the screen. A single message from Matteo: "You've done well. Now don't forget what's at stake."
Sophia's heart sank as she turned off the phone and slid it into a drawer. She had made her choice, but the path ahead was far from clear. Between Andrew's love and Matteo's control, she was caught in a web of her own making. And with each passing day, the threads tightened, threatening to unravel everything.