Chapter 4: A Fiancé from Boston

The ballroom slowly returned to normal after the broken wine glass was cleaned.

Guests laughed, musicians continued playing, and expensive crystal glasses clinked together as if nothing had happened.

Only I remained standing on the balcony, staring at the city lights.

Three years.

Three years of convincing myself that Vincent's silence meant love.

Tonight, I finally accepted the truth.

Silence was only silence.

"Mind if I join you?"

I turned to find Lucas carrying two glasses of champagne.

"I don't drink champagne anymore," I said.

"Good. More for me."

He took a sip before leaning against the railing.

"Vincent looks terrible."

"Does he?"

"You really don't care?"

I smiled faintly.

"I'm learning not to."

Lucas studied my face for a long moment.

"You're serious about Boston."

"I've never been more serious."

"He thinks you're bluffing."

"That's his problem."

Lucas sighed.

"You know... I've never seen Vincent lose control over anything."

"Maybe he never will."

"Maybe you're the first thing he can't control."

Before I could answer, a servant approached.

"Miss Sophia, Don Romano is asking for you in the study."

"Thank you."

I followed the servant downstairs.

Inside the study, my father stood beside the fireplace with two unfamiliar men.

One of them was in his late fifties, wearing an expensive navy suit.

The other looked around my age.

He was tall, blond, and surprisingly pale.

A soft cough escaped his lips before he offered me a polite smile.

"Sophia," my father said. "Allow me to introduce Richard Sterling and his son, Alexander Sterling."

So this was the man I was going to marry.

He didn't look like someone at death's door.

He simply looked exhausted.

"It's nice to meet you," Alexander said, extending his hand.

"Likewise."

His handshake was warm but weak.

"I've heard a great deal about you," he added.

"Hopefully only the good parts."

Alexander laughed quietly.

"Actually... mostly the bad ones."

I couldn't help smiling.

"Then you've been properly introduced."

Richard Sterling chuckled.

"I already like her."

Don Romano looked relieved that we weren't fighting.

"I'll leave the two of you alone for a few minutes."

Everyone quietly stepped outside except Alexander and me.

The room suddenly became awkwardly silent.

"So," Alexander finally said, "this is strange."

"Very."

"My father insists arranged marriages build stronger alliances."

"Mine says the same thing."

"Do you believe them?"

"Not particularly."

Alexander smiled.

"Neither do I."

He walked toward the window before speaking again.

"Can I ask you something honestly?"

"Go ahead."

"Are you in love with someone else?"

The question caught me completely off guard.

"Why would you ask that?"

"Because you look exactly like someone saying goodbye instead of hello."

I stared at him.

For the first time all evening, someone had actually seen through me.

"Yes," I admitted quietly.

"I was."

"Past tense?"

"I'm trying."

Alexander nodded slowly.

"Then we're in the same situation."

"You too?"

"She married someone else two years ago."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Life continues."

He smiled gently.

"Maybe that's why we'll get along."

"Because we're both heartbroken?"

"Because neither of us expects a fairy tale."

For some reason, his honesty made me relax.

There were no games.

No hidden meanings.

Just two strangers trying to survive decisions made by their families.

"If we're going to marry," Alexander continued, "I'd like us to at least be friends."

"I'd like that too."

Just then, the study door opened.

Vincent walked inside.

The room instantly grew cold.

His eyes landed on Alexander's extended hand resting lightly against mine.

"Am I interrupting?" he asked.

"Yes," I answered.

Alexander politely stepped back.

"Mr. Moretti, it's a pleasure."

"Likewise."

Vincent's voice remained calm, but I recognized the tension hiding beneath it.

"Sophia, I need a word."

"We're in the middle of a conversation."

"It won't take long."

Alexander looked between us before smiling politely.

"I'll give you two a moment."

As soon as he left, Vincent closed the study door.

"What are you doing?"

"Talking to my fiancé."

"Don't call him that."

"Why not? He'll be my husband soon."

"The wedding hasn't happened yet."

"It will."

"Cancel it."

"You keep saying that."

"Because I mean it."

"Then tell me why."

Vincent looked straight into my eyes.

Several long seconds passed.

Again.

Silence.

"That's what I thought," I whispered.

"Sophia, things are complicated."

"No."

"You don't understand."

"Then help me understand."

"I can't."

"Exactly."

I walked toward the door.

"Move."

Instead, Vincent placed one hand against the wooden door, blocking my way.

"Don't marry him."

"Give me one reason."

"Because I don't want you to."

"That's not enough anymore."

For the first time since I'd known him, Vincent looked genuinely helpless.

"Please."

That single word almost shattered my resolve.

Almost.

"You taught me something very important," I said softly.

"What's that?"

"Love without a future eventually becomes a prison."

"Sophia..."

"I'm finally escaping mine."

I gently pushed his arm aside.

This time, he let me pass.

As I stepped into the hallway, I noticed Isabella standing several feet away.

She had clearly been waiting.

Our eyes met.

She looked from me to Vincent before offering a quiet smile.

"They're waiting for us," she told Vincent.

He didn't answer.

His eyes never left me.

For the first time in three years...

I walked away without looking back.