Chapter 17 – Lev
“You can't be serious,” Sophia said, her voice laced with a mix of anger and disappointment. Her eyes were blazing crimson, fingers tightening around the white tablecloth.
Her fury was suppressed yet apparent, and I completely understood her plight. She clenched her jaw, her piercing gaze locked on mine as she awaited my response, even though she already knew what I'd say.
I wasn't the type to joke around, let alone with such a delicate matter. She knew I wasn't bluffing, but she still demanded that I respond. Perhaps she needed clarity—a justification that she wasn't hearing things.
I didn't stutter when I said I was calling off the engagement, nor did I smile to hint that I was teasing her. However, I would grant her the clarity she needed by repeating myself so my response would stick to her skull.
“I haven't been more serious, Sophia. The wedding's off,” I said, sitting across from her, unfazed by her rising rage.
Her face contorted in anger, her chest heaving slowly as she released her grip around her innocent tablecloth. She drew a deep breath and let it out through the small opening her lips had formed.
Sophia reached for the wine bottle, which stood tall among the dishes on the table. Her manicured fingers wrapped around its slender neck. For a fleeting moment, her eyes darted to me, and then she returned to the table.
With a smooth, practiced motion, she tilted the bottle, allowing the rich crimson liquid to flow into the waiting glass. The gentle gurgle of the wine filled the air, blending with its sweet aroma.
I watched her take her time to pour herself a drink, my eyes squinting ever so slightly as I wondered why.
Once filled to her desired level, Sophia lifted the glass with an elegant move, the delicate rim grazing her lips. She breathed in the wine's heady aroma and then jerked her eyes without raising her head. “Is she prettier?” she asked, taking a sip.
Unnecessary drama was the last thing I needed at the moment, but given the way things were going, it seemed inevitable.
“Yes,” I replied bluntly, my expression stoic, gaze fixed on her.
Her eyes narrowed, forming faint creases between them as she set the glass back on the table. She tried to mask her anger with a blank face, but I knew my answer had pierced her heart like a dagger.
Perhaps I shouldn't have been too honest or too blunt. I should have considered her feelings; besides, she was human, after all. But in my defense, she asked a question and answered.
“This isn't about beauty,” I added, not to make her feel better but because it was indeed beyond Ravyn's appealing looks.
“So, her family's more connected, then?” she asked, her eyes boring into mine. Her voice was calm and smooth, as if unaffected by my behavior.
Now, I was starting to get offended. I owed this woman no explanation—I owed no one, not even her family or mine, any explanation. It was my life, my decision, and no one else had any say in it whatsoever.
Damn the benefits that would come from our union—Sophia and me. I wasn't going to ruin my life and those of my kids just to please people. I didn't care that plans had already been made for our wedding. I wasn't going to go through with this.
To begin with, I never liked Sophia. My advisers had pushed me into taking her as a wife. She was never my choice. Now that I'd found my choice and returned her home with me, everything had changed.
I had two kids with the only woman who had ever tickled my fancy. Why marry someone I didn't love and would never love when I could build a life with my kids and their mother?
Things would only get more complicated if I went ahead and wed Sophia. It was better to end it now than spend the rest of my life trying to repair a broken marriage.
This decision was beyond my own selfish interest. My kids would always come first from now on, and I didn't mind whose heart I'd break if it came down to it. Marrying Sophia was a terrible idea; I'd known that from the start, but at the time, I didn't have another choice.
Now, I did.
Ravyn wasn't just easy on the eyes; she was intelligent, as well—if not the most intelligent woman I'd ever met. This was the same woman who not only outsmarted me but also managed to stay hidden for half a decade.
She’d pulled a stunt no one else ever had. My advisers would love her once they knew the whole story.
Sophia was great. She was an amazing woman, respectful and obedient. But she wasn't Ravyn.
Ironic how my respect for the mother of my kids had doubled ever since she returned. There were so many forces influencing my decision to call off the wedding with Sophia, and all of them made perfect sense.
As for the benefits that would come from marrying her, I was sure the Bratva would thrive with or without her family's help. We'd been doing more than fine long before this arrangement, and nothing would change.
If my advisers were to raise the issue of influence and power, they'd realize soon enough that Ravyn hailed from such a family.
“Sophia, this isn't gonna work,” I said, looking right into her eyes. “It's best we end it now.”
She let out a soft, dismissive scoff, her lips curving into a faint smirk. “I understand,” she said, leaning closer, elbows on the table. “Just answer me this: Do you love her?”
First things first, I never told her that there was another woman. I simply said that I was calling off the engagement; she was the one who assumed that there was someone else, and she was right.
However, this question hit me like a fucking bullet to the heart. If I didn't love her, I should know the answer immediately and not feel this much unease. But the reverse was the case.
And why the hell was my heart racing so fast?
It was a simple yes or no, yet it was so complicated. I wasn't quite sure how to answer it, and at that moment, images of Ravyn's smiley face from five years ago had come flooding back into my mind.
I realized that I'd actually missed seeing her smile. Ever since her arrival at my place, I hadn't seen that genuine grin on her lips.
However, the question still lingered, and I sat there in silence, speechless.
Her eyes narrowed, a scowl settling on her face as her jaw clenched. She must have gotten the answer she needed, and I would appreciate it if she had told me because I was confused. I was yet to figure it out.
Or maybe I just wasn't ready to accept the truth.
I watched her frown deepen, her chest rising and falling with controlled breaths. She'd lost her composure, allowing her anger to resurface.
She didn't like this at all; the woman was upset, and with good reason. But I couldn't care less. Now, I had another thing to worry about: the simple question she'd asked.