Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
SOPHIE
The car stopped in front of Papa’s home, and before stepping outside, I took a deep breath.
Viktor glanced at me, but he stayed silent, distant, making it seem he was trying to sit as far from me as possible, pressed into the right side of the back seat—the same way as on our wedding day.
But back then I hadn’t focused on that, assuming he was avoiding my dress. Now, though, I raised an eyebrow.
Wasn’t he the one who’d insisted on the marriage? The one who agreed to visit my parents? So why act like a total prick?
I scoffed and managed to breathe more freely when my father’s porter opened the door. Viktor got out first, but didn’t move forward. Instead he turned, looking directly at me.
He hesitated for a second, then extended his hand toward me.
Really? Did he expect me to take his hand?
A sting of anger lit up my spine.
Ignoring his hand, I got out of the car, but after a few steps, I stumbled. My chest ached as my eyes stopped on the oak tree by the gate, its branches nearly bare. I used to collect the fallen leaves every autumn, pressing them between book pages.
It ached again when I came closer to the stone steps, the same ones I’d run up every day as a child.
When had they become so worn?
“Fifi!” Mamma called, coming out from the entrance. “Is everything okay?” She leaned toward me but kept the usual distance.
“Yes.” I lifted the corners of my lips.
She gave me a side-eye, then approached Viktor. Only my ingrained manners kept me from rolling my eyes at the performative greetings that followed.
“Thank you for agreeing to join us today,” Mamma said, showing him inside. “You can’t imagine how everyone missed her,” she continued while the butler helped Viktor with his coat. “I hope you’ll let her visit us more.”
“Pardon?” Viktor blinked. “I—she—” He stumbled, then looked at me.
“Mamma, you said we have ravioli? I haven’t tried that in ages.” I hoped my voice sounded sincere, and given Mamma’s reaction, it must have.
But Viktor’s face stayed… bewildered.
Thankfully, Anne and Catherine saved me the worry, as they came down the stairs, practically vibrating with the urge to rush over and embrace me.
I didn’t even notice the small smile that appeared on my face, but it faded the moment they peppered me with questions about my well-being and how I liked my new home.
“Good,” was the only answer to all their questions. Same as the last time we’d called.
“Dinner is ready,” Mamma said, gesturing toward the dining room, and I hurried there, barely avoiding crashing into Papa as he opened the door.
A strange relief bloomed on his face, making guilt shift in my stomach.
Rafael, standing near the window, glanced at me worriedly, then turned with disgust toward Viktor. “I’d started to suspect I’d never have a chance to see my sister again.”
Viktor’s bewilderment deepened, and I was ready to say something when Mark chuckled.
“I’d argue he himself barely has a chance to see his wife.” He looked at me. “Is he ever home?”
I blinked. This was actually the first time he’d addressed me directly.
“Only if his ghost counts,” I said.
Was that too harsh? Not that it bothered me. Though I wished I could turn to see Viktor’s reaction, especially since Mark burst into laughter.
Mamma scolded us but hurried us to the table. And that’s when I stumbled.
Where should I sit?
Mamma gestured for Viktor to sit at Papa’s right. But before approaching it, he looked at me. If I sat beside him, I’d be trapped between two people.
“Mr. Rowks.” Cath’s voice was smooth. “Would you mind if Fifi sat here?” She gestured to my usual seat—across from her—and I hurried to take it even before my husband had a chance to object.
“Catherine!” Mamma’s voice sharpened, though it was clear she was happy to have me closer.
Viktor mumbled something about it being better. But even as he got himself comfortable and dove into a conversation with Mark, I could feel his eyes following each of my movements.
Or was that perhaps my imagination?
My throat dried, and as I reached for my drink, my gaze instinctively drifted to the clock on the mantelpiece. I hadn’t done this in months. Not that there was a necessity when I was all by myself. Perhaps if I tried, I could manage to eat without the tick of the clock even now.
Yet Mamma’s gaze from across the table made me tighten my grip on my fork. And when the dinner was served I stalled, fork halfway to the plate, waiting for the next tick.
“I heard the merger is going well?” Mark asked Viktor.
But Viktor’s attention was still on me. I stiffened when his gaze returned—he looked at the mantelpiece, then back at me with a frown.
Was I that obvious?
I mimicked his expression, gesturing toward Mark.
“The legal side is finalized,” Viktor told him. “Now we’re working through the integration.”
As he went into details about merging the teams and restructuring the departments, a strange flicker of satisfaction bloomed in my chest. I couldn’t help but listen.
Especially since it was the company given to Viktor as part of my dowry.
Technically, the main shares were mine, though the control was his—as long as we were married.
Rafa’s face darkened. Once he had wanted to run that company himself, but Papa refused, saying he lacked experience. So Rafa went with MoRen.
Besides, there was nothing he could say now. Not when Papa had received ten percent of Rowks shares in exchange.
Though later, after dessert, I noticed him whispering something to Viktor. And judging by my brother’s eyes, it was not pleasantries that left his mouth.
“It’s bitter cold outside,” Cath murmured, looking at Anne and me.
We were standing near the windows, away from the others. And as I followed her gaze toward the swings, I shook my head. If during the day going out was something I probably would have considered, no amount of begging would work on me now.
Anne read that in my expression, and leaned closer. “Is he treating you well?”
“How many times would I need to repeat this before you stop asking that question?” I let out a breath, regretting my tone when I noticed the worry in their eyes.
“Everything is great. He does not bother me.” And when they kept looking at me, I added, “He tried to speak once, got the hint to keep his distance. And that’s it. ”
I wasn’t sure what their expressions meant, but it seemed more like approval.
“So if he’s not home…” Cath started. “Can we visit you?”
“Mm… I’m not… sure?”
“Then can you visit us more?” Cath insisted.
I exhaled slowly. Even with some tension in the air, I had to admit I’d enjoyed the evening. Especially all the business discussions that happened at the table.
My marriage was supposed to end my desire to prove myself worthy of the family business. And I was sure Viktor would laugh in my face if I mentioned any interest in that. Yet that didn’t mean I’d stopped wanting it. Or that I couldn’t enjoy those small pieces I picked up here and there.
“I’ll see,” I said.
But Mamma took it into her own hands when, by the end of the evening, she pulled Viktor aside. “Thank you once again for agreeing to dinner.”
“That was my pleasure.” He nodded politely.
“I hope you’ll let her come visit us sooner.” She held his hand.
Viktor’s eyes narrowed for a second before his usual unbothered expression returned. He looked at me for a moment, and I pressed my lips, swaying slightly on my heels.
“At least once a month,” Mamma pleaded.
The smile Viktor gave was expertly polite. “Of course.”
There wasn’t much to look at in the scenery while the car carried us toward home. Only darkness. Still, I didn’t move my gaze from the window, though Viktor’s was surely on me.
“Are you feeling well?” Viktor asked when we were halfway home. His dark eyes watched me with caution.
“Why wouldn’t I?” My voice came out harsher than I’d expected.
Viktor only hummed, and I could feel how unsatisfied he was with my answer.
I should’ve probably apologized. The man had been nothing but kind to me so far.
But he saved me the discomfort as he turned toward his window.
I clenched my fingers, keeping myself from drumming on the armrest. I shouldn’t care about his feelings—he’d once been in Sebastian’s circle. So not entirely innocent.
I closed my eyes. Why was everything so complicated?
The rest of the drive passed in silence, and he stayed still, not bothering me even with a stare. Only when we entered the house and I went upstairs to my room did he call out, “Sophie.”
His voice was soft, and it made warmth gather in my stomach.
This was probably the second time I’d heard him say my name.
Though it was obvious he wouldn’t call me Ms. Moreau when that wasn’t even my surname anymore.
Nor would he call me Mrs. Rowks. That would be even stranger.
Yet my name on his tongue was also strange.
Unusual.
I turned on my heels, looking down from the top of the stairs. He stood at the bottom, his hands clasped behind his back.
“Yes?” I bit my tongue.
“You know that you’re not a prisoner in this home?” His voice stayed calm.
I closed my eyes. I wasn’t sure why I felt ashamed. It wasn’t a big deal. Many women, once married, didn’t visit their parents’ homes often.
“If you want to visit your family every week,” he paused, “every day… or even stay there overnight, I don’t see any issue with that.”
“I know.”
The issue was, I didn’t want to. The monthly dinner he’d agreed to was already enough.
“And to be clear, if you ever wish, you’re free to go outside of this home.” He tilted his head. “It’s not your prison.”
Well, I knew that as well. Only that was something I surely would never want.
The man continued to stare at me, but I wasn’t sure how to answer. I bit down on the inside of my cheek before finally opening my mouth. “Anything else?”
Viktor raised a brow before shaking his head.
“Then I’ll be in my room.” I turned on my heel.
There was no way he didn’t understand the cause of my actions. He knew. He knew! He must know I couldn’t go outside.
So why act that way? Why say those things?
Was he mocking me? Taunting me?
I almost took a step when a small cough came from him again.
Now what?
This time, when I looked at him, anger filled my eyes.
Yet there was only the same softness in his voice. “Good night, Sophie.”
He didn’t wait for my answer, heading toward his office and disappearing from my view.
I stood there a few more seconds, unable to understand my own feelings. My heart was aching. And not from the anger I’d felt a moment ago.
I cleared my throat and hurried to my room, only letting myself relax once the door was locked from the inside. Viktor had never even tried to enter my room, yet knowing it was locked made me more comfortable.
A warm bath and a glass of wine—that’s what I needed. But the latter was two floors down, and that meant going back and risking meeting Viktor again.
The image of him running on the treadmill in the home gym flashed in front of my eyes.
The gym that was on the same ground floor as the wine cellar.
And I wasn’t sure about his habits—I’d only seen him there once, around two weeks ago, when I’d gone downstairs before an evening bath.
I was sure he was mostly there during the morning, but what if this time he’d decided to work out before bed again?
So no. No way.
Or should I?
I shook my head. It wasn’t like wine was mandatory for my relaxation ritual, and I’d actually already had a glass at my parents’.
So candles and scented oil in my bath were enough.
But the thoughts lingered. And I couldn’t help thinking over Viktor’s behavior.
Could he be interested in me? Or was he just polite?
That doesn’t matter! I repeated to myself.
Thankfully, my mind went blank the second I sank into the hot water. I took a few deep breaths, enjoying the vanilla scent, trying to focus only on the water against my skin, and not on my thoughts.
There was surely some care in his voice. Wasn’t there?