Sophia knew she was being watched.
It wasn't paranoia—she had spent years reading people, sensing when their eyes lingered too long, when their words carried unspoken meanings. And Evelyn Remington had been watching her for weeks now, studying her with a gaze that was impossible to ignore.
Tonight, Evelyn's scrutiny felt even sharper. The Remington matriarch sat at the head of the long dining table, poised and elegant as always, but there was a weight to her silence. A test, perhaps. A silent challenge.
The table was lavishly set, crystal glasses catching the light from the chandelier above. A symphony of quiet conversation hummed around them—Andrew speaking with his father about an upcoming deal, the soft clinking of silverware against porcelain, the occasional polite chuckle from someone further down the table. But Sophia couldn't focus on any of it.
Not when she could feel Evelyn's gaze on her like a dagger pressed to the back of her neck.
She forced herself to smile as she reached for her wine glass, steadying her nerves. The rich, red liquid swirled as she lifted it to her lips, but even as she drank, the tension coiled in her stomach refused to unwind.
Then Evelyn spoke, her voice smooth, deliberate.
"Sophia, dear, I wonder if I might steal a moment of your time after dinner."
Sophia's fingers tensed around the glass. She met Evelyn's gaze, searching for an answer in the older woman's expression. There was no warmth there, only quiet calculation.
"Of course," Sophia replied, her voice carefully neutral.
Evelyn smiled faintly, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Wonderful."
The rest of the meal passed in a blur. Sophia barely tasted the food, though she went through the motions of eating, nodding at the appropriate moments when someone addressed her. But her mind was elsewhere—spinning, calculating, searching for an exit before she even knew which room she'd be trapped in.
When dinner concluded, Evelyn stood gracefully, dabbing her lips with her linen napkin before placing it beside her plate. "Shall we?"
Sophia had no choice but to follow.
The Remington estate was vast, but Evelyn led her somewhere intimate—somewhere meant for serious conversations. The study.
The heavy doors closed with a quiet finality behind them.
The room smelled of old leather and polished wood, the air thick with history and quiet power. A grand mahogany desk stood at its center, bookshelves lined the walls, and a small, flickering fire cast long shadows across the space. The room was designed to intimidate, and right now, it was working.
Evelyn moved to the liquor cabinet, selecting a crystal decanter and pouring herself a generous glass of whiskey.
"Would you like one?" she asked, her voice pleasant but laced with something sharper beneath the surface.
"No, thank you," Sophia replied, clasping her hands in front of her.
Evelyn took a slow sip before setting the glass down, then folded her hands over the edge of the desk, studying Sophia with an intensity that made her skin prickle.
"I've always believed in knowing the people who enter my family," Evelyn began, her tone deceptively light. "Especially the ones who intend to stay."
Sophia's pulse quickened, but she maintained her composure. "That's understandable."
Evelyn tilted her head slightly. "Tell me, Sophia, what does your family do?"
Sophia hesitated for half a second—too long.
"As I've mentioned before," she said carefully, "my father has business interests in luxury goods, textiles, and jewelry."
Evelyn smiled—an expression that felt more like a predator indulging its prey. "Yes. That's what you've told us."
Sophia felt a chill crawl up her spine. She had spent her life mastering the art of deception, but she knew when she was walking into a trap.
Evelyn continued, reaching for a folder on her desk. "I recently came across something interesting."
Sophia's breath caught as Evelyn opened the folder, revealing pages of documents, bank transactions, and a few grainy surveillance photos. One of them was of Matteo Russo in a discreet meeting with a man Sophia recognized all too well—a known arms dealer from southern Italy.
Sophia's blood ran cold.
"I assume you know who this is," Evelyn said smoothly, tapping the photograph.
Sophia lifted her chin, forcing herself to remain steady. "My father meets with many people."
Evelyn hummed, flipping another page. "I'm sure he does. And yet, this particular man is under investigation for international smuggling. And your father's company, Il Vero Lusso, has been linked to several offshore accounts that have… questionable origins."
Sophia inhaled slowly, keeping her face blank. She needed to find a way out of this conversation.
"I don't involve myself in my father's business affairs," she said evenly.
Evelyn raised an eyebrow. "That's convenient."
Sophia forced herself to meet the woman's gaze. "Is there a reason you're showing me this, Evelyn?"
Evelyn leaned back slightly, considering her next words. "I want to know the truth, Sophia. Not the story you've rehearsed, but the truth. What is your family really involved in?"
Sophia swallowed hard. She had prepared for this moment, but now that it was here, she felt like the walls were closing in.
"I love Andrew," she said finally, her voice softer now. "Whatever my father has done… it has nothing to do with him. Or with this family."
Evelyn didn't blink. "Does Andrew know?"
Sophia hesitated—again, too long.
Evelyn sighed, taking another sip of her whiskey. "You're a smart woman, Sophia. So I'll be blunt. If you're hiding something—if your family has brought danger to my son—I will find out. And when I do, I will not be kind."
Sophia's heart pounded. She could feel the weight of Matteo's threats pressing down on her, but she also knew Evelyn was not a woman to be underestimated.
"I understand," Sophia said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Evelyn studied her for a moment longer before nodding. "Good. Because the Remingtons do not take betrayal lightly."
The words sent an unmistakable shiver down Sophia's spine.
When Sophia returned to her room that night, she locked the door behind her and collapsed onto the bed, her mind racing.
Evelyn was too close. Too perceptive.
She grabbed her phone, her fingers trembling as she typed a message to Matteo.
We have a problem.
Matteo's reply came almost instantly.
Handle it.
Sophia closed her eyes, exhaling shakily.
She wasn't sure how much longer she could.