The next Day, the heavy silence of the mansion was broken by the sound of Zara's bright laughter. She arrived early, determined to pull Sofia out of her shell.
"Sofia, you've been living in this library like a ghost!" Zara teased, grabbing her friend's hand. "Max gave me his credit card and told me to take you out. We are going shopping, and I'm not taking 'no' for an answer."
For the first time in weeks, Sofia actually laughed. She followed Zara to the city's most expensive boutiques. They spent the entire afternoon trying on silk gowns, elegant velvet dresses, and soft cashmere. Zara made sure Sofia picked out things that brought color back to her face—deep emerald greens, midnight blues, and a stunning, form-fitting crimson dress.
Back at the Mansion
When they returned, the foyer was filled with luxury shopping bags. Sofia felt a spark of excitement she hadn't felt in a long time. She wanted to show Alfred the beautiful things they had found, but as she reached his study door, she stopped. Her hand hovered over the wood, and she hesitated.
What if he thinks I'm being shallow? What if he doesn't care? she thought, her old shyness returning.
Just then, the door opened. Alfred stood there, looking at the mountain of bags and then at Sofia's nervous face.
"Zara told me you found some things," Alfred said, his voice deep and encouraging.
"I... I did," Sofia whispered, looking down. "I wanted to show you, but maybe you're busy."
Alfred stepped closer, his presence warm and steady. "Sofia, I am never too busy for you. Go. Put them on. I want to see the woman who has been hiding in my library."
Sofia went to her room and changed into the first dress—a soft, flowing silk gown in a pale cream color. When she stepped out into the hallway where Alfred was waiting, his breath caught.
"You look... like a dream," he murmured.
She changed again, this time into a dark violet dress that hugged her curves. Each time she appeared, Alfred's gaze grew more intense. Finally, she put on the crimson red dress. It had a low back and tiny straps, making her look both delicate and powerful.
As she walked toward him, Alfred didn't stay back this time. He walked into the center of the room to meet her. He was completely mesmerized. He didn't look at the dress; he looked only at her—at the way her eyes sparked and how the color suited her perfectly.
"Sofia," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
He reached out and placed his hands gently on her waist. The touch sent a bolt of electricity through Sofia's body. She didn't pull away. Instead, she looked up at him, her heart racing. Alfred leaned in, his face inches from hers. The air between them was heavy with an instant, burning tension.
He tucked a stray hair behind her ear, his thumb lingering on her cheek. "I have seen many beautiful things in my life," he said, his eyes searching hers, "but nothing—nothing—compares to you."
For a moment, the world outside—the mafia, the danger, the books—all disappeared. There was only the heat of his touch and the look of pure adoration in his eyes. Sofia felt a pull toward him she couldn't explain. In that instance, the fear was gone, replaced by a deep, undeniable connection.
The bubble of romantic tension popped the moment Sofia took a step back. The reality of her situation came rushing back—the tall gates, the armed guards, and the fact that she was living in a stranger's house. The crimson dress, which had made her feel beautiful moments ago, now felt like a costume for a life she didn't choose.
"I need to go home, Alfred," Sofia said, her voice trembling but firm. "The shopping, the library... it's all wonderful, but I want my own bed. I want my own life. I'm better now, and I'm leaving."
Alfred's face, which had been soft and mesmerized, instantly turned into a mask of cold stone. His hands dropped from her waist, and his posture became rigid. The air in the room suddenly felt heavy and suffocating.
"No," he said. It wasn't a suggestion; it was a command.
"What do you mean 'no'?" Sofia snapped, her fear turning into sparks of anger. "You can't keep me here! You said you wanted me to feel safe, but I don't feel safe if I'm a prisoner."
The Breaking Point
Alfred walked toward her, his eyes darkening with a possessive, manic energy. He didn't just look like a businessman or a protector anymore; he looked like the Mafia leader the city feared.
"You think those men are gone just because you had a nice day of shopping?" Alfred growled, his voice rising. "They are waiting! They are watching your house, your street, your every move! If you walk out of those gates, you are walking into a grave!"
"Then let the police handle it!" Sofia shouted back.
"I AM THE LAW IN THIS CITY!" Alfred roared, his voice echoing through the massive hallway. He slammed his hand against the wall next to her head, startling her.
He moved closer, his breath hot against her skin. His anger wasn't just about the danger; it was about the thought of her being away from him. He had spent years watching her from the shadows, and now that he finally had her within his reach, he couldn't let her go.
"You are staying here, Sofia," he hissed, his face inches from hers. "You will live in this library, you will wear these dresses, and you will stay under my protection. I don't care if you hate me for it. I would rather have you hate me and be alive than have you love me and be dead."
Sofia looked at him, tears of frustration and shock filling her eyes. The man who had gently tucked her hair behind her ear was gone, replaced by a man who refused to let her breathe.
Alfred turned his back on her, his cape-like coat swirling behind him. "The gates are locked. The guards have orders. Don't try to leave again."
He walked away, leaving Sofia standing alone in her beautiful red dress, shivering in the middle of the grand, golden hallway that had officially become her prison.