Chapter 5 – Sofia
It’s evening now, and I still haven’t fully come to terms with what’s happening to me.
The words don’t even feel real when I think them.
Me.
Here.
In someone else’s penthouse.
In someone else’s life.
I stand by the massive window again—the one thing in this place that feels almost familiar.
Ironically, it’s my favorite spot. Not because it’s comforting. Because it reminds me I’m still in a city where life is happening without me.
Below, Manhattan moves like nothing unusual has occurred today. Cars glide through traffic. People walk with purpose. Lights flicker on in apartments just like mine used to.
Normal life.
I press my palm lightly against the glass.
It’s cold.
Real.
But nothing else about this situation feels real.
I haven’t seen him since he walked out hours ago.
Lukyan.
Even his name feels strange in my thoughts, like it doesn’t belong there yet.
After he left, staff arrived.
Not just one or two people—enough to make the penthouse feel less like an empty fortress and more like a controlled machine suddenly switched on.
A woman in a neat uniform brought food I didn’t ask for.
Another brought clothes—fresh, folded, expensive-looking things that still felt like they belonged to someone else.
Someone even brought toiletries and placed them neatly in the bathroom, like I had agreed to stay.
No one asked me anything.
They just… acted like I was supposed to be here.
I tried leaving.
Once.
Then twice.
Then again after that.
Each time, the door opened—but the moment I stepped forward, the men outside were there. I understood something very clearly after that.
This isn’t a place I can walk out of just because I want to.
My chest tightens at the thought.
Ashley.
My phone.
My life.
She must be worried by now.
I try to imagine her face when she realizes I haven’t come back or responded.
Ashley doesn’t panic easily—but she notices everything. She would’ve called me already. Texted. Probably shown up at my apartment with snacks and loud complaints.
Except I’m not there.
I press my fingers into my palm.
This is wrong.
All of it is wrong.
I turn away from the window and walk slowly across the living room again.
The space is too big.
Too quiet.
Every step echoes, like even sound behaves differently here.
I stop near the center of the room and look around again, as if something might suddenly make sense if I stare long enough.
It doesn’t.
I sink onto the edge of the couch, my hands curling loosely in my lap.
Think.
That’s what I keep telling myself.
Think, like Papa taught me.
But every time I try, my thoughts circle back to the same place.
Why me?
Why marriage?
Why him?
Why this?
My mind refuses to stay still for long.
It drifts instead—back to his face.
Cold eyes.
Calm voice.
That unsettling certainty, like everything he says already exists as truth in his world, and I’m just catching up.
I hate that I remember him so clearly.
I hate that my body reacts before my thoughts do.
I hear the elevator ding.
My entire body reacts before my mind even processes it.
I’m on my feet instantly, heart jumping into my throat.
Lukyan.
It has to be him.
I don’t even know why my chest tightens like that—why my first instinct isn’t curiosity, but something closer to bracing for impact.
The doors slide open.
I turn—
And everything in me stops.
For half a second, I can’t breathe at all.
Then it hits me so hard my eyes sting immediately.
“Valeria…”
She steps in fully, and before I can even take another breath, she’s already moving toward me.
“Oh, Sofi.”
Her voice breaks in a way I’ve never heard before.
That’s all it takes.
I rush forward too.
We meet halfway, and the moment she wraps her arms around me, something in my chest finally collapses.
I cling to her. Like if I let go, I might float away into whatever this place is supposed to be.
My face presses into her shoulder, and I don’t even try to stop it.
I cry.
Just everything I’ve been holding in since this morning breaking loose all at once.
“It’s okay,” she whispers, holding me tighter. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
But it doesn’t feel okay.
None of it does.
I shake my head against her shoulder.
“I don’t want this,” I say, voice cracking.
“I don’t want any of this, Val. I don’t want to marry him.
I don’t even know him. I don’t—I don’t understand what’s happening.
” My words spill out between broken breaths.
“I was at home and then—and then men came in, and now I’m here, and he’s talking about marriage like it’s normal and I—I can’t—”
My voice breaks completely.
Valeria holds me firmly, grounding me without letting me fall apart further.
“I know,” she murmurs.
That’s what makes me pause.
I pull back slightly, searching her face through tears.
“You know?” I whisper.
She exhales slowly, like she’s been carrying something heavy and finally decided she can’t hold it back anymore.
“Yes,” she admits.
My stomach drops.
She brushes my hair back gently from my face, her expression soft but serious.
“Lukyan told me to come,” she says.
My brows pull together. “Why?”
“Maybe he knew you’d need comfort.”
I let out a shaky breath, wiping at my face with my sleeve.
“I don’t trust any of this,” I say. “I don’t trust him. I don’t want this marriage, Valeria. I don’t care what he thinks he’s protecting me from; I don’t want it.”
Her expression tightens at that, but she doesn’t interrupt.
She just listens.
Then, carefully: “I know what it feels like,” she says quietly. “You already know that, Sofi.” She continues before I can respond. “To have your life changed without being asked. To wake up and realize you don’t really get a choice in what happens next.”
My throat tightens again, but I stay quiet this time.
Valeria sighs softly. “But Sofia… this world you’re in now—it doesn’t work the way ours does.”
I swallow.
My grip on her arm tightens.
“I don’t belong in this,” I whisper.
“I know,” she says. “But you’re already inside it.”
She guides me back toward the couch, sitting beside me without letting go of my hand.
“I’m not going to lie to you,” she says. “This situation is bad. You didn’t choose it. And Lukyan isn’t doing this because he suddenly believes in fairytales.”
My breath catches at his name.
“But,” she continues, “he also doesn’t make decisions like this lightly. If he brought you into this, then in his mind, there’s a reason he can justify.”
“That doesn’t make it right,” I say.
“It doesn’t,” she agrees.
That surprises me.
She squeezes my hand. “But right and safe don’t always show up together in this world.”
I look down at our joined hands.
My voice drops. “So what am I supposed to do?”
Valeria is quiet for a moment. Then she says gently, “Survive the next step first.”
I look up at her. “And then?”
Her expression softens. “Then we figure out the rest together.” She exhales, like she’s trying to decide how to say the next part without making it worse. “Now…do you want the good news or the bad news?”
I let out a tired groan, leaning back against the couch. “Can there be any more bad news?”
Valeria gives me a look.
Then she laughs.
It’s small at first—almost reluctant—but it breaks through the heaviness in the room anyway.
“Oh, Sofi,” she says, shaking her head. “There’s always more bad news in this world. You just haven’t met enough of it yet.”
I don’t find that funny at all.
“So?” I press weakly. “What is it?”
She sighs. “Bad news is… the wedding is in two days.”
I freeze. “…Two days?”
She nods.
My stomach drops again so fast I feel it in my toes.
“That’s insane,” I exclaim. “That’s not a wedding. That’s a—a—I don’t know. Does that even happen? People don’t just—I don’t even—”
“I know,” she says gently.
I stare at her.
“Two days,” I repeat, like saying it again will make it make sense.
Valeria shrugs. “That’s how it works in their world when decisions are already made.”
I go quiet for a second.
Then I sit forward again, voice sharp with disbelief.
“And the good news?” I ask. “Because I’m really struggling to see how anything in this situation counts as good news.”
Her lips twitch. “Oh, there is good news.”
I narrow my eyes. “Go on.”
She leans back a little, suddenly looking way too pleased with herself. “You have Lukyan’s card.”
I blink. “…His what?”
She smiles. “His card. Unlimited. Basically. And before you say anything—yes, it’s real. And yes, you are allowed to use it.”
I stare at her. Completely unimpressed.
“I don’t care about his card,” I say flatly. “That isn’t good news. That’s just… irrelevant luxury attached to my kidnapping situation.”
Valeria bursts out laughing again.
“Okay, okay, relax,” she says. “I’m just saying—you can go shopping.”
“I don’t want to go shopping.”
She tilts her head. “You can buy books.”
That lands differently. I pause. Just slightly.
“…Books?” I repeat.
“Yes,” she says, seizing the moment. “Any books you want. Rare ones, old editions, anything. You could build an entire library if you wanted.”
My expression softens, just a little. Valeria notices immediately and grins.
“There she is,” she murmurs.
I clear my throat, trying to recover.
“That’s still not good news,” I insist, though my voice has lost some of its bite.
“It is very good news,” she argues. “You just haven’t accepted it yet.”
I look away, arms folding loosely. “I don’t care about wedding planning,” I mutter. “Or dresses. Or anything.”
Valeria stands and pulls me up with her. “Okay,” she says, like she’s made a decision. “Then don’t care. But you’re still going to come with me.”
I stumble to my feet. “Where?”
Her eyes brighten with something almost strategic. “Shopping for the wedding. Your dress. Shoes. Everything.”
I groan immediately. “No. I literally just said I don’t want—”
She cuts me off, already guiding me toward the hallway. “Sofia,” she says firmly but not unkindly. “Listen to me.”
I hesitate.
She softens slightly. “At least this part,” she continues, “we can control. The flowers, the dress, the room, the details. If they’ve already decided the big picture, then fine—but we don’t let them take everything.”
I fall silent.