18. Sofia
Sofia
My sweet Isabel, where do I begin?
In a few hours, our lives will forever change. Your father, King Ramon, will be gone. When the truth comes out, I’ll be arrested.
What weighs on me most is not what will happen to me, but what I will miss. I won’t be here to watch you grow, to see the woman you become.
I’m sorry for that. But I did what I believe needed to be done.
Please don’t blame Antonio for what becomes of me. People will shape the story to fit their own understanding. They will call me selfish. Say I acted out of jealousy, that Ramon’s infidelity drove me to this.
They are mistaken.
The truth behind my actions is beyond their understanding because they have never heard the story in full.
You will, though. When you’re old enough to understand, many years from now, you’ll read this and finally know the truth.
Hopefully, you won’t hate me for it when that time arrives.
I trust your siblings did what I expected, making sure you grew up knowing both of your parents loved you, despite the way we left you.
I am deeply sorry for that. If there had been another option, I’d have taken it. Perhaps there was, but my fear for you overshadowed everything else. It may not make sense now, but hopefully it will after you’ve read this.
The best way to explain is to start from the beginning. So, bear with me while I take you back to my life before you came along.
I was just a teenager when it started. I befriended a man whose father led one of London’s most notorious crime families. Your grandfather disapproved of our friendship and made his position clear. He urged me to end it and warned that if I did not, I would no longer be welcome in his life.
As you might imagine, that only fueled my rebellion. It made me want to see just how far I could push him.
I took our friendship one step farther and began seeing him behind my father’s back. He treated me with more kindness and respect than any of the young men your grandfather tried pairing me with. Before I knew it, I was falling for him.
When his father learned about us, he sent him away, claiming it was to prepare him for his place in the family business. I never had proof, but knew my father had interfered. His satisfaction was unmistakable. The way he carried himself from then on made it obvious he got what he was after.
With him gone, I was pulled back into the life expected of me.
The obligations returned, along with the endless introductions to men I had no interest in knowing.
My father believed he could shape my future, but by then I had grown more resolute.
No longer a defiant teenager, but a stubborn young woman.
None of those men mattered to me. I only wanted one man, even if I wasn’t certain he felt the same.
While attending an art auction, I came face to face with my lover’s father. Upset, I confronted him, without hesitation, angry and unwilling to hold my tongue. I accused him of interfering in my relationship with his son. It was done out of hatred. I knew what I once had couldn’t be salvaged.
I made a scene. As a scorned woman, I was enraged, reckless, and unconcerned with the attention I drew as I challenged a man everyone in the room feared. Everyone but me.
To save me from myself, he dragged me out of there, but removing me from the room did little to quiet me. I continued, refusing to be dismissed or ignored.
What followed is not easily explained. It was unexpected, even for him.
Alone in a dark hallway, he stared down at me, looking as fierce as I’d seen any man look.
It should have frightened me, but it did not.
There was no threat of violence in his gaze.
No intention to punish me for the spectacle I’d made.
If anything, there was something else there. Something out of our control.
He ordered me to go home. To walk away before he did something we would both regret.
Of course, I didn’t listen. I dared him instead.
That was the night my life changed forever. The moment he kissed me, all thoughts of his son disappeared. The connection between us was immediate and undeniable. This was a passion I’d never known.
In the beginning, I tried to dismiss it. Told myself it was nothing more than the thrill of something forbidden, a fleeting indulgence I would soon forget. But I was wrong. It only lasted a few months but felt like so much more.
He ended it in the coldest way imaginable. Showed up to a function he knew I’d be attending, one I was excited about, because he’d be there. He walked in with another woman on his arm.
The message was clear. I didn’t wait for him to say the words. I left before he could rip my heart from my chest.
Heartbroken, I fell into a deep depression and stopped caring about what I did or who I allowed into my life. That’s how I became involved with a man closer to my age.
At first, it was nothing more than a distraction. A way to escape the pain of rejection and convince myself I could move on.
He did not see it that way.
To him, I became an obsession.
When I tried to end it, he refused to even hear me out. For the first time, I felt genuine fear. I knew, without question, he would kill me before he let me go.
After that, I was never permitted to go anywhere on my own. He imprisoned me in a house he coerced me into buying with my trust fund. A home I once loved, but soon came to despise.
On one of the rare nights he took me out, we went to London. That’s when I first met Ramon. I was seated at the bar, appearing to be alone, though I never truly was. Someone was always watching when my captor wasn’t there to do it himself.
It didn’t take long for Ramon to notice me. He was an observant man, his sharp, knowing gaze, picking up on my distress almost immediately. Without hesitation, he offered his help.
At the time, I didn’t know who he was or what he was capable of, so I refused him.
Told him I was fine, that it had simply been a difficult day.
Rather than arguing or pressing me for the truth, he took the seat next to me.
Stayed and engaged in casual conversation until the man he was meeting arrived.
It may surprise you to learn that the man I met that night was nothing like what others believed him to be.
There was a gentleness to him, a quiet strength that didn’t demand attention, but was simply there.
He made no move to take advantage of my vulnerability.
Instead, he offered something far more meaningful, a sense of calm I hadn’t felt in a long time.
That is the version of him I hold onto. The one I will always remember.
Our time that night didn’t last nearly long enough.
After excusing himself and affirming it was a pleasure to meet me, he got up and left. I watched him go, my confusion turning to shock when I realized who he was meeting. Panic hit me all at once as I stared at the man who’d broken me into a thousand pieces.
I rushed to my feet, desperate to leave before he noticed me. I couldn’t bear the thought of him seeing me like that, and I knew I couldn’t withstand another rejection, not after all I’d been through.
My escorts, tasked with ensuring I remained in place, stopped me and insisted I sit down. What happened next was something none of us were prepared for.
That was the moment I realized just how dangerous the man I had entrusted my heart to truly was. He showed no hesitation, no fear of the men who stepped in and told him to mind his business when he asked what was going on. Instead, he drew his gun and shot them both, devoid of any emotion.
Witnessing a murder firsthand was new to me. It’s something you never forget.
My memory of what followed is hazy. I believe I passed out. When I came to, I was no longer at the bar, but in a suite, with Ramon confronting the man my heart would always belong to.
When it was over, I was left with a choice: Ramon, or the man I loved and who would only break me again. I let my heart lead me that night and I’ve never regretted what followed.
Certain decisions are unquestionable, particularly when they bring about outcomes greater than you could have ever imagined.
You.
I know you have questions after such a crazy tale. Let me do my best to answer them now.
Is Ramon your father?
No, not biologically. But he loved you. He just wasn’t great at showing it.
How did he become your father, then?
He intervened when the situation worsened.
The man I was involved with called in a favor.
Ramon agreed to help us. It may sound strange to you, but had he not done that, I’m not sure either of us would have ever made it out of London alive.
He saved our lives, and I will forever be grateful for that.
So, why did I poison him?
I wish the answer were straightforward. It was fear, plain and simple.
We had a falling out, and Ramon was no longer interested in giving me refuge.
I panicked. I knew that if he kicked us out of Hermosa Islas, the man obsessed with me would find us.
His life was consumed by his delusion about me.
He kept finding ways to reach me, sending gifts he thought were promises he’d one day come for me.
King Ramon’s guards were the only barrier between us and him. They kept us safe—until now.
Without their protection, we are left exposed. That’s a risk I refuse to take with you. I can handle my own troubles, but I will not allow you to be drawn into them. You deserve a life untouched by this.
I trust Antonio to do right by you. If he cannot care for you, he will find someone who can and ensure your safety under the watchful eyes of the royal guards.
Who is your father?
This is a question I know the answer to in my heart, but not one that we ever validated.
Why?
Because a paternity test would have put everything at risk. If those results had fallen into the wrong hands, the truth would have been exposed, and the life we were trying to protect for you, shattered. You would have been seen as something other than Ramon’s daughter.
When it was suggested to him, Ramon refused.
He used his authority as king to silence the matter entirely.
Instead, he chose a different path. One that left no room for doubt.
He ensured you were legally his. Arranged your adoption in secret, had the documents prepared, sealed them with his authority, and kept them locked away, where only he could access them.
He didn’t do it to deceive anyone. He did it because he loved you.
Because he wanted you to be his in every way that mattered, regardless of whose blood ran through your veins.
And perhaps, in some part, it was also his way of claiming something that couldn’t be taken from him.
A quiet defiance against the man who had cast us aside without hesitation.
I know the truth will come out one day, and when it does, you’ll have questions. Which is why I’m writing this letter, hoping to do my best to give you the answers no one else can.
My biggest fear has always been that the man obsessed with me will one day turn that obsession to you.
It is why we were so careful and kept your existence as hidden as we could.
We were not honest about how far along I was when Ramon and I married and controlled every image of you that was ever released. We knew he would be watching.
I fear he might convince himself that you’re his. Could you be? Unfortunately, yes. But in my heart, I have always believed you were conceived the night I escaped him and landed back in the arms of the man who broke me.
Regardless, you’re free to use this information however you wish. Only one other person knows the truth: your grandfather. I wrote a similar letter to him, trusting he would keep my secret, especially after warning me in the beginning I was playing with fire.
Before I left London, the man I believe to be your father gave me something. I’ve held on to it, intending to give it to you when you’re older. It should be with my personal belongings, in the boxes I shipped to your grandparents just days ago. I asked your grandfather to keep it safe for me.
If he no longer has it, then your answer lies elsewhere. Look at my portrait, the one King Ramon insisted be hung next to all the others. The same one your grandmother has hanging in her gallery.
I am wearing it. No one would question the queen’s decision to include an item in the family gallery, considering her Irish ancestry. Other queens’ portraits share similar pieces, though I doubt their reasons were the same as mine.
I am sorry. Please forgive me. Know that I love you.
That I will always love you. I hope and pray that the sacrifices I’ve made were worth it.
I trust that you’ve had a good life, a safe one.
That was all I ever wanted for you, to give you the very best, the finest things life has to offer, because you deserve nothing less.
I must say goodbye now. It is bittersweet, and I wish there was another way.
Never let the light within you dim. Shine as bright as the morning star, and know that you are exactly where you were meant to be. Don’t let the truth take that from you. You are, and will forever be, Princess Isabel Sofia Reyes. Nothing will ever change that.
Love,
Mum