Page 16 of Her Naughty Billionaire

Then, without another word, she detaches herself from my arm, leaving me in the midst of the bustling crowd, grappling with the aftermath of my own impulsiveness. The room's chatter continues, but for me, everything seems muted. I stand motionless, feeling an unfamiliar and unsettling weight in my chest.

How had I let my pride, my constant need to prove myself to these high society charlatans, cloud my judgment? The very thing I'd been fighting against my whole life—their judgment—had been the weapon I'd just wielded against someone who had done nothing but challenge and captivate me.

Years of clawing my way to the top, of battling snide remarks and haughty dismissals, had sharpened my instincts. But they'd also built walls, high and impenetrable. Walls I'd just inadvertently used against Sophia.

The realization that this isn't just about losing a beneficial partnership sinks in. It's about potentially losing a chance at something I hadn't even acknowledged I wanted. Something more than fleeting transactions and superficial respect.

I need to rectify this. The question now isn't about how, but whether I'd even be given the chance. Sophia, despite her grace and poise, also possesses a steely resolve. Would she even listen?

Maybe it's time for an uncharacteristic grand gesture. Or perhaps something simpler, more sincere. Either way, the game has changed.

And for the first time in my life, I'm not playing to win, but simply hoping not to lose.

Chapter 7

Sophia

Themiddaysunfiltersthrough the blinds, casting a warm, golden hue over my office. Walls lined with bookshelves, filled not just with business manuals but novels and memoirs, showcase the Carter legacy and my personal journey intertwined. A soft, plush rug cushions my feet, while the desk—a grand piece of mahogany inherited from generations past—occupies the room's center.

But amidst this history, pieces of me punctuate the space—a candid photo from Ava's beach birthday last summer, fresh roses in a crystal vase, grandma’s old tea set, and sketches of dream projects pinned to a corkboard. Here, in this fusion of past and present, I've always found solace, especially on days like today.

Biting into my sandwich, last night replays in my head, and the tight knot in my chest returns. The glitz of the gala, the sharp sting of Victor's unexpected betrayal, and the whispers that felt like slashes. Rather than return to the echoing halls of the manor and risk unsettling my mother with my distress or to the penthouse where a run-in with Victor was inevitable, I sought refuge in Ava's welcoming apartment.

The façade of strength and composure I'd put on for the world had crumbled the moment she opened her door. Wrapped in her embrace, the walls I'd built came crashing down, and the story poured out of me—the good, the bad, and the mortifying. She just listened, holding me tight as I rambled and raged.

Now, in the solitude of my office, with the weight of the previous night still heavy, my phone buzzes, interrupting my reverie. The display reads Ava's name, and I feel grateful. She's been my rock in the stormy sea that is my life right now.

Picking up, I answer, "Hey, Ava."

"Soph, how are you holding up today?" Her voice drips with concern, making me clutch the phone tighter.

"I've had better days," I admit, tracing the rim of Grandma’s teacup with my finger.

"Remember what we talked about last night," she soothes, "You're stronger than one bad evening. Take a deep breath, drink some tea. Talk to me."

I pour hot water into the cup, watching the jasmine leaves unfurl. "I just can't shake it off, Ava. The feeling of betrayal, the weight of all those eyes on me... and Victor, God, what was he thinking?"

Ava lets out a soft sigh. "Sophia, think about it. You've seen him—the outsider trying to break into our elite world. Maybe, just maybe, it was a slip. An attempt to defend himself."

I clutch the teacup, feeling the warmth seep into my palms. "It's not just about what he did, Ava. It's how I felt. I felt... exposed, vulnerable. I thought he was different."

Ava's voice softens further, "And maybe he still is. I never thought I would defend him, but even I can admit that you've shared moments. Moments that mean something. Not just business dinners but real, raw moments. Don't let one misstep cloud all of that."

I take a sip of the tea, its floral aroma comforting me. "It's not just the misstep, Ava. It's everything leading up to it. The way we are with each other—it's confusing. I can't figure out if I'm angrier with him for what he said or with myself for how deeply I felt the sting of it."

Ava chuckles lightly, "That sounds like feelings. Real, complicated feelings."

I lean back in my chair, letting Ava's words wash over me. "You know, I've always been sure of everything in my life—my choices, my responsibilities. But with Victor... it's all so complicated. Yet, deep down, I know there's something undeniable between us. Something I can't simply ignore."

Ava's voice softens, "So, what will you do about it?"

I exhale deeply, staring at the roses on my desk. "I don't know yet. I need time to process, to figure out where we stand. But one thing's for sure, I can't just dismiss what's blossoming between us."

Ava's laughter rings through the phone, light and teasing, "Blossoming, huh? Using floral references now, are we?"

I chuckle, "Oh, hush! You know what I mean."

"Of course, I do. And Soph," Ava's voice turns serious, "Just remember, love isn't about perfection or always making the right choices. It's about navigating the rough waters together. So, give it a chance."

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