Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SOPHIE
The first few days after the new year were strange. Viktor was at home. But that wasn’t what bothered me. It was how easily I’d gotten used to it. I no longer avoided our small encounters on the stairs or in the corridors. The opposite. I was craving them.
All because of a conversation about one of his deals he’d been discussing with Papa at the Christmas dinner. I didn’t get to hear the end when Mamma called me upstairs. And I had no excuse to stay when the invitation included Cath and Anne.
But today Viktor went to his office in the city, and I suspected he’d return much later. And I didn’t like it.
Didn’t like the feeling of this strange restlessness that was starting to grow in my stomach.
Closing the book I was reading, I got up and moved to the windows.
The winter garden, especially under the afternoon sun, held another kind of beauty: frost clinging to bare branches, the pale light catching on ice.
And inside, the scent of spiced tea warming in the pot.
Cinnamon and cloves. Perhaps the only thing keeping me sane.
I’d read the majority of the books that caught my interest in the Rowks library. Examined each sculpture and painting in the home. Even tried to play on the piano. Started working out in the gym. Maintained my bath routine. Yet something was missing.
Perhaps if I asked Viktor to hire a tutor for me in business… No. That wasn’t what I needed. What I wanted were real-life examples, more opinions, and more debates—where I could test my knowledge and maybe learn something new.
In fact, I wanted Viktor to talk to me. Discuss what was happening at Rowks Holding. Or anything similar to what he discussed with Mark or Papa.
But I knew that was not an option. Why would he? I was just a woman. A woman he’d married to secure his business. To gain an alliance.
“Don’t overthink, Fifi,” Edmond had once said to me when I’d tried to go deeper into an issue in a project he’d been discussing with one of his cousins.
I’d only started my first semester and was so excited about everything. But Edmond had looked at me with patient amusement, as though my enthusiasm were something charming but childish.
“You don’t need to worry about such things or wrinkles will appear on your pretty forehead,” he’d said it softly, brushing my cheek. “Your future husband will handle all these complex projects. All you need to do is be happy.”
I’d smiled at him, knowing I should feel happiness or excitement.
Instead, it stung.
Even more when Edmond continued dismissing me that way, cutting me off mid-sentence or changing the subject whenever I brought up anything substantial. And though I kept telling myself he was caring about me, that feeling of being dismissed stayed.
Would Viktor dismiss me the same way if I asked him to involve me in his business? Or at least share with me how his work was going?
It was almost five months since we’d married, and Viktor had never spent time with me other than at the dinners at my family’s home. I knew I’d hinted for him to leave me alone. But we were married. At his initiative. Shouldn’t he at least try to gain my sympathy?
Or was he happy that I was so convenient? Never initiating anything. Never objecting, never pressing for more. Always locked in our home.
I let out an angry sound. Angry at myself.
This was what I’d wanted. I had been happy with everything a few months ago. So why couldn’t I keep it that way? Why start needing more?
The phone rang, cutting through my thoughts.
I scoffed. Hadn’t Mamma called just yesterday? And with the next dinner being in a few weeks, I didn’t expect to be disturbed so soon.
It rang again. So I reached for my teacup, gulped down the drink, and only then answered the call. To my relief, it was Cath.
“You know, now that you’re married,” she started cautiously, “people will treat you differently. Nothing but smiles and compliments,” she continued. “Especially since you’re married to Viktor. No one wants to be on the bad side of the Rowks. And the Korolyovs.”
“Is this about my involvement in your wedding stuff?”
“God, no. Though I’d love your help.” Her voice brightened.
“Then what?”
“Well, you see. The New Year’s gala that Mark’s family hosted. You skipped it.”
“And?”
Even with her fiancé’s family hosting, she couldn’t possibly have expected I would attend.
We’d never even discussed that. Yes, I remembered getting the invitation and could recall Ms. Hale asking about it not once but twice.
But I’d refused both times without a second thought.
The same way I had refused all the other invitations to social gatherings.
The excuse for my refusal was the same as for my wedding. And with Viktor attending alone, there should never have been an issue.
“Some whisper about why you never accompany your husband…” She stumbled at the end.
“You know why…” Better gossips than confirmation.
“Yes, I know, but… I hate to say this, but I myself witnessed three women making plays for your husband’s attention,” she said. “If you don’t keep your game up, someone might snatch him right from under your nose.”
I didn’t correct her that there was nothing to snatch. But the thought of other women flirting with my husband boiled my blood. Yes, there was nothing between us. But he was my husband. And that should be enough for everyone to stay away from him.
“As if they could,” I said, trying to sound unbothered.
“Maybe they can’t. But Fifi, married or not, that doesn’t stop certain women. Or certain arrangements.”
Cold ran down my spine. Was that why he was never home? Spending his evenings with other women?
I clenched my palms. Even if he was, I couldn’t possibly be jealous. Our marriage was fake. Only on paper. It was stupid to expect him not to seek comfort elsewhere.
The lunch I’d eaten earlier protested in my stomach.
“Is there something I needed to know?” I tried to hide the wavering in my voice. “Tell me the truth!”
If there was anything, my sister would know. She knew every malicious rumor before it spread. She had her sources.
“No,” she exclaimed. “No!” I could hear her breathe through the phone. “To be honest, Viktor shut them down immediately. But again, our whole family was there. It would be strange if he’d acted any differently.”
“Cath…”
Be smart, act strategically. Mamma’s words from Christmas dinner sounded in my head. That was before the New Year’s gala, and while I’d assumed she meant I should focus on getting pregnant, I wouldn’t be surprised if there was something more to it.
“I’ve heard no rumor about him having someone on the side.” Cath’s voice sounded sincere.
“Good,” I said.
But the trembling in my hands didn’t disappear.
The clock showed half-past eleven. An hour later than Viktor’s usual return.
I’d spent the last two hours sitting on the cold marble stairs, watching the main entrance, rehearsing my speech. It was supposed to start with something neutral, like how was his day, maybe ask if he was avoiding me. Yet…
“Do you have a mistress?” The question burst out the moment Viktor stepped in.
Was it the image of those three women circling him, touching his arm, laughing too loudly, that burned through every rehearsed word?
Viktor froze mid-step, his coat half-slipped from his shoulders, his hair disheveled. “Pardon?”
I got up from the stairs and another unplanned question left my mouth. “Do you sleep with other women?”
“No. Why would you—?” He shook his head. “Why—” He pulled his coat from his shoulders, dropping it on one of the settees near the entrance.
“Then why don’t you spend evenings with me?” A small shiver went through my body. This wasn’t on my list either.
His shoulders sagged and exhaustion surfaced on his face. He dragged his hand down his face, pressing his fingertips against his eyes. “I thought that’s what you wanted?”
“Was it? Or was it just convenient?”
His eyes narrowed, studying me with sudden wariness, as if trying to discern where this was coming from.
When he didn’t answer, I opened my mouth, but the words stuck in my throat. I cleared it. But when he gestured toward the tearoom, my next words left my lips without permission. “You’re disgusted by me.”
I closed my eyes for a second and bit my lip so hard a taste of blood hit my tongue. A ringing rose in my ears.
Viktor just stared at me, his mouth opening slightly in disbelief, before pain flickered across his face. He stepped closer to me, yet stopped an arm’s length away.
His tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek, jaw working as if physically restraining himself from saying something he’d regret.
His olive skin had gone pale.
I looked directly into his eyes, trying to find a hint of annoyance, but there was only concern. My eyes shifted to the small scar under his left eye that I’d never noticed before, to the two moles on his right cheek, and the furrow between his eyebrows.
Actually, he was quite handsome.
I took a deep breath. This was no time to appreciate his face or anything else. I turned my head away.
“I am not,” he said. “Why do you think so?”
As if he didn’t know.
My chin trembled, but I managed to keep my eyes on him. “Don’t pretend you don’t understand.” My voice cracked at the end.
“I can only assume, but I may as well be wrong.”
He stroked the palm of his hand with his thumb. Another mole. On that exact thumb. And he had long fingers with clean, well-kept nails.
My throat tightened as my gaze shifted up, toward the corridor leading to my room.
He followed my gaze, then looked back at me. “Sophie, there is nothing in this world that could make me feel disgust toward you.”
I looked at him. His eyes were clear, much warmer than a second ago.
I swallowed, biting my bottom lip.
“Let’s look at this another way.” His voice softened. “Are you disgusted by me?”
“That’s not the same.” My voice broke.
“Why not?”
I looked at him in disbelief. Was he lecturing me on something so obvious?
“Actually, you’re right. It’s not the same,” Viktor added. “What happened to you was a crime. Even worse than that. Mine were consensual.”
I sniffled, feeling burning behind my eyes. There were so many things I wanted to say. To get answers for.
“They were your friends.” I didn’t intend for my voice to sound accusatory, but it did.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he opened his mouth. “I wouldn’t call that friendship.” Guilt flickered in his eyes. “Sometimes, I wonder. What if I’d been there?” His throat worked. “I would never have let anything happen to you.”
My stomach twisted. “Is that why you married me?” My voice was barely audible. “Because of guilt?”
Viktor’s shoulders stiffened, and the veins in his neck stood out. “I want you to be safe. And I know I can guarantee that for you.”
So guilt.
I pressed my lips together, looking away. I couldn’t say why it hurt. It wasn’t a bad thing. He was just another person in my life who thought he could cocoon me in so-called safety and that would be enough for me to be grateful.
Safety… as if he knew what that meant for me. “Ah… So you’re pitying me?” I didn’t wait for an answer, turning toward the stairs.
“I didn’t say that.” Viktor’s voice sounded panicked, and I could hear his steps behind mine. “Sophie!”
But I didn’t stop. Reaching the top, I turned directly toward my wing.
“Sophie…” His voice sounded from a distance.
And maybe it would have been right to turn back and see this through. But there was no way I could stand in front of him with tears streaming down my cheeks.
So I kept moving forward, each step echoing loudly through the empty corridors. When I reached my door, all I could do was push it open before the last shred of control left my body.