Chapter 4 Sophia

Sophia

Everything seems strange.

"You... you knew all along that I was the wrong bride?" My voice trembled with disbelief as the words escaped my mouth.

Ricci Russo sat back lazily on the plush leather sofa, his tiny smirk as arrogant as ever. "Of course, I knew. Do you think anything involving me happens without my own knowledge? How do you suppose I became the second-richest man in the country?" His brow arched, daring me to challenge him with words, but I knew better already.

My stomach twisted before I could think of a wiser word. "If you knew, then why did you go through with it?"

"Sara Williams... Sophia Williams... what's the difference?" He waved a dismissive hand. "I needed a bride as fast as possible. You were available at the time. Simple." His words were icy.

His indifference ticked me off. How could he be so calm about marrying me instead of my sister?

My fingers curled into fists. "You make it sound like you bought a car. Or a pet." My voice cracked up already, my inner anger boiling. "Do you even hear yourself talk? Is that all marriage means to you? My sister is dead because of this! I blame you for everything."

His cold, detached gaze didn't waver a bit, nor did his expression show pity for the lost. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, his voice like a blade slicing through my anger. "Her death? You think Sara is dead?"

My breath caught in my throat. "The rescue team... They didn't find her body. They think she was swept away by the water." My voice shook as I processed his words. "Are you saying she's alive?"

He leaned back again, amusement flickering in his sharp eyes. "No one declared her dead, Miss Sophia. There's nobody, no proof of what you claimed. But clearly, you don't know your sister as well as you think you do." A pause. A quick rethink. Then, with a cruel smirk, "Sara played you all, and yes, you all are the pawns. And you, a little journalist, fell right into her own trap."

The room spun. "Why are you telling me this then? Why did you marry me?!" I shouted, riled up. He had to be lying.

Before I could demand more from him, he stood up, his presence towering, suffocating. Without another word, he walked away, leaving me drowning in questions.

I groaned, then groaned again. "I hate him!" My nails dug into my palms as I whispered to myself, "But what did he mean? What game was Sara playing? Was Ricci hiding something?"

I squared my shoulders. Fine. If they wanted to play games, I'd play too. I was a journalist. I uncovered the truth. And I would uncover everything, starting with Sara's disappearance and Ricci Russo's involvement. This was an even greater chance for me to investigate Ricci himself.

And when I am done, a lot of tea will be spilled.

******

The glass wall of the office building reflected back a woman I barely recognized. The elegant Gucci polka-dot dress hugged my curves, the slingback heels clicking against the pristine marble floor.

A Russo-wife had to look at the part, apparently. Ricci made sure of that. My entire wardrobe had been replaced by designer dresses, luxury handbags, and high-end jewelry. My old, battered car? Gone. Now, I drove a Range Rover with a Tesla, a white Ferrari, and a brand-new Hellcat waiting in the garage.

A life most would kill for, but none of it mattered. Not when my sister was missing.

I pushed open my office door and nearly jumped out of my skin.

"Shit! Benjamin, you almost gave me a heart attack." My hand flew to my chest as I took in my boss's presence.

He stood near my desk, hands in his pockets, scanning me from head to toe. Then, his gaze settled on mine.

A glint flashed, so fast I almost didn't catch it. Was that sadness?

A lump formed in my throat due to his own expression. "W-What did you hear?"

His lips pressed together. "That you got married." His face was almost twisted. "To Ricci Russo." A dull smile graced his lips.

I swallowed. "I did."

His eyes darkened at once. His fingers twitched as if he wanted to reach for me but held himself back. My heart clenched at the unspoken emotions swirling between us. The tension between us both was fully alive.

For years, I had been in love with this man. For years, he had never looked at me twice.

He cleared his throat, slipping back into his professional tone. "If this is for the mission, don't you think it's going a bit too far?" He questioned, taking my hands in his.

I shifted on my feet, staring at him. "Besides, can he take care of you? We've exposed a lot of powerful people, Sophia. They weren't happy about that. Threats came and went passing by. Some were empty. Others... weren't." He exhaled sharply. "I handled most of them... Myself. But this time, it's different."

My stomach twisted. "What changed?"

His jaw tightened. "The prime minister knows you were the undercover journalist who gathered evidence against him."

Ice shot through my veins as I processed the words.

"If he knows, others will soon find out. I wanted to warn you, but then I heard about your marriage. That complicates things."

Before I could respond, my phone buzzed. I barely glanced at the screen until the words froze me.

The message reads:You snitch bitch. You think you can walk free after what you did? We know it's you. We're coming. It's over.

My hands shook as I finished reading the text.

Benjamin stepped closer to my standing self. "Sophia, what is it?"

Another text followed instantly.

'Say Hasta La Vista to your new automobile gift, bitch'.

Confusion gripped my entire body and soul.

And then it came, the explosion shattered the morning stillness. A deafening roar from outside the parking lot. The ground shook. The glass windows trembled violently.

Benjamin grabbed me, yanking me away from the window just as an inferno erupted outside. I hit the floor hard beneath his solid weight, his arms shielding me as debris rattled against the building.

My ears rang. My breath came in short, gasping spurts.

My car. They had blown up my car.

Benjamin pushed himself up, gripping my shoulders. "Are you hurt?"

I could barely hear him over the hammering of my heart. Then, my phone buzzed again.

I stared at the screen, and my heart skipped a beat.

Ricci.