Chapter 2 Sophia

"WHAT on earth does that Sophia girl have that no other woman on this planet could possibly have, Oswald? What?" Lady Frances Escobar's voice rose across the dining table, sharp and relentless.

Oswald's jaw tightened. He set his fork down and pushed his chair back, his half-eaten meal forgotten. Without a word, he stood and walked away.

"Don't you dare walk out on us!" Frances's voice followed him, but he kept moving, his footsteps echoing toward the living room.

Lord Dino Escobar was already up, abandoning his own plate. Together, husband and wife trailed their son, both voices raised now, their disapproval filling the house.

It was evening, and Oswald had finally agreed to join them for dinner, finally agreed to honour their invitation after two full weeks of dodging it. He had known deep down that this would happen. The food had been nothing more than a lure; the real menu was the same as always: criticism of the woman he loved.

Sophia. Sophia Lawn.

Sophia had been the best thing to happen to him in months. She was his world, his peace, his heartbeat. For a while, they had kept their relationship quiet, it was her wish to, but weeks ago, he had decided to make it public.

His parents had not taken it well.

They called her cursed. Said her family's name carried bad luck. That she wasn't "classy" or "worthy" of being an Escobar wife. He could live with society's whispers, but his parents' rejection cut deeper than he had expected.

He stopped short when his father's voice sliced through the air.

"Can't you just leave that woman? What love potion has she given you?" Lord Dino's tone dripped with disbelief.

Oswald halted in the middle of the living room and turned.

"Mum. Dad." His voice was measured but cold. "I'm tired, tired of repeating myself on this one issue."

Lady Frances stood with her hands on her hips, chin raised.

"It is either Sophia," Oswald continued, "or no one. I have made my choice."

"You will marry her over my dead body," Frances shot back without hesitation. "And when you do, you can pack my corpse to the morgue yourself. Because that cursed woman will never be part of this family."

The words hung in the air. Oswald stared at her, stunned at the venom.

"What exactly do you hate about her? Why this much bitterness?" His voice was low, almost dangerous.

Frances stepped closer, taking his hand as if trying to soften her stance.

"Son," she said, her tone dipping into false gentleness, "that girl is cursed. Her family is cursed. Bad luck follows her like a shadow. If you stay with her, it will cling to you too, and also, it will extend to us."

Oswald carefully withdrew his hand.

"And how exactly is she cursed, Mother? Explain it."

His father moved in, his patience clearly gone.

"Do you have to know how before you listen to us? She is an orphan, Oswald, an only child. Everyone knows she killed her parents."

Oswald's head snapped toward him.

"That is a lie."

"It is what people say," Dino pressed on. "They died in that plane crash during summer vacation, the one she 'happened' to miss. You think that is coincidence?"

Oswald exhaled slowly. Yes, he had heard the rumors. Yes, people twisted her history, the tragic crash that took both her parents while she stayed behind with her aunt. And yes, he knew she had been a sickly child until her twenties. But accidents happen, illnesses pass, and none of it defined her.

"She is good, Dad," Oswald said firmly. "Economical. Decent. Sweet. Intelligent. She builds a home, not breaks it. She has every quality I want in a wife." His eyes swept over them both. "I'm done explaining myself."

He turned toward the door.

"You are lying to yourself, Oswald!" Frances called, hurrying after him. "As long as I'm alive, you will never marry her!"

Her voice trailed him out into the night. He reached the main door, where his guard instantly straightened and fell into step.

Oswald strode toward the black Toyota RAV4 parked in the drive, his mother's words echoing in his ears. The guard opened the rear door, and Oswald slid inside without looking back.

The guard climbed into the front passenger seat, the driver started the engine, and without another word, the car pulled away from the Escobar mansion.

Oswald stared out the window, his jaw tight. He had made his choice. And no amount of curses or gossip would change it.