Chapter 3 At The Mart

FOR a split second, Sophia wished the ground would just open up and swallow her whole. She had only come to the mart that evening to pick up a few groceries and leave quietly. But one careless, deliberately loud remark, one mocking and derogatory remark a lady had made about her now, making heads to snap at her and faces to disgustingly stare at her, shattered that peace and made her to say such prayer, that the ground she was standing on, should open and swallow her whole.

"How can a low-life, low-class girl turn a man like Oswald Escobar on? Eww. It is disgusting."

The voice carried through the aisle, it was sharp and mocking. Heads turned. Faces twisted into sneers.

"She isn't even pretty enough, to be honest," the woman added, her tone dripping with disdain.

Sophia's grip on the shopping basket tightened. Inside, her blood boiled. On the outside, she forced herself to keep moving, to ignore it.

She was used to this, used to being the girl society rejected for daring to love a man far beyond her "place."

Oswald Dino Escobar.

His name alone commanded attention. CEO of Escobar Investments- the leading investment empire in Philadelphia, along with several billion-dollar ventures across the country. The only son of His Lordship Dino Escobar and Lady Frances Escobar, one of the most respected couples in the nation.

He was nothing but powerful. Wealthy. Imposing.

And somehow, he had chosen her, a mere college graduate with no family to stand behind her, no inheritance, no prestigious titles. At first, she hadn't cared what people said. Their gossip seemed petty compared to the warmth of his love. But months later, the whispers hadn't faded. If anything, they had grown louder.

Even his parents refused to accept her.

And yet, for over half a year, Oswald had been the best thing in her life, adoring her without apology, proving their bond stronger than class or status.

Wisdom said she should ignore the woman's jealousy, and so she did. Keeping her head high, she made her way to the counter.

"How much?" she asked the man behind the till.

He quickly scanned her items.

"One hundred and fifty dollars."

She slid her credit card across the counter. The man bagged her groceries neatly in a branded paper bag. Just as she reached for it, he spoke, his voice was quick, almost conspiratorial.

"Sweetie, take my advice, leave Oswald. Let him find a better life."

The words landed like a slap. For a moment, she just looked at him, saying nothing. Then she shook her head slowly, took the bag, and walked out.

Outside, the cool air hit her. She strode briskly to her car, opened the door, and dropped the bag on the passenger seat. Sitting back against the headrest, she let the tears come, hot, unrelenting, burning away the composure she had clung to inside the mart.

After several minutes, she wiped her eyes and steadied her breathing.

She was supposed to be at Oswald's mansion tonight for an intimate dinner. Now? After this? She couldn't face him, not with the weight of those words still pressing on her chest. She turned the key in the ignition, deciding to go straight home instead.

The engine roared to life. Then, from the pigeonhole, her phone lit up. It was a text message.

She reached for it, her heart still heavy.