Chapter 5 Three months

The evening air was crisp, and the Blackwell mansion gleamed under the fading light of the setting sun. The grandiose marble floors, adorned with antique furniture, reflected the opulence of the Blackwell legacy-everything about the place screamed wealth, power, and control.

Sophia sat across from Edward in a plush sitting room, a large fireplace crackling nearby. The room felt almost too perfect, the décor too immaculate. It was as though every inch of the space was designed to remind her of just how little she mattered in comparison to the larger picture of family and legacy that Edward represented.

Edward, as always, was impeccably dressed, his sharp suit and carefully styled hair giving him an air of command. He looked at her with a confident, almost calculated expression, his gaze unwavering as he set a thick, leather-bound folder down onto the glass coffee table in front of her. His movements were deliberate-calm, controlled.

"Sophia," he began, his voice smooth but with an edge of finality, "I've been thinking about our engagement, and I believe it's time to set a date for the wedding."

Sophia's stomach tightened. She had known this moment would come. Her father had dropped hints about the wedding, her mother had begun discussing dress options. But hearing it from Edward, seeing the certainty in his eyes-it felt different, like a decision had already been made, and she had no say in the matter.

"I don't think this is something that can be rushed," Sophia replied, her voice laced with tension, though she was determined to stay calm. "We need time to understand what this means-for both our families, and for us. It's not just a formality."

Edward raised an eyebrow, almost amused by her words. He leaned back in his chair, one arm casually resting on the armrest, the other holding his glass of whiskey. His gaze flickered to her face, the faintest smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Sophia," he said softly, but with a weight that made her heart race, "we've been through this before. Our families have been aligned for years. Our union is inevitable. It's not a question of 'if'-it's a matter of 'when.' And I believe the sooner we make it official, the sooner we can move forward."

Sophia clenched her fists in her lap, trying to suppress the frustration building inside her. "I don't think you understand," she replied, her voice shaking slightly despite her efforts to remain composed. "Marriage is not a business transaction. It's not something you can just set a date for as if it's a scheduled meeting. It's about commitment-trust-something deeper than contracts and negotiations."

Edward's eyes softened, but it was a calculated softness-a way to calm her down, to make her think that he was hearing her concerns, even if he was dismissing them in the same breath.

"Of course I understand," he said gently, setting his glass aside and leaning forward, his tone almost tender. "But we are in a different world, Sophia. A world where emotions have to be secondary to the bigger picture. We both know that the legacy of our families depends on this. We both know how much is at stake."

Sophia's chest tightened. She had heard this logic before-the same cold, calculated reasoning that Edward used to justify everything. It was a world where power and control overshadowed love and connection.

"I still believe that marriage should be more than just a business arrangement," she said, her voice quiet, though firm.

Edward gave her a long, measured look before speaking again, his voice now tinged with the slightest hint of impatience. "I respect your ideals, Sophia. I truly do. But we're past that now. We've crossed a line where idealism no longer serves us. Our families' futures are at stake. And we're the ones who must carry the torch."

Sophia could feel the weight of his words pressing down on her chest. She knew he wasn't wrong in the cold, strategic sense. He was right about one thing: their union was about legacy, about preserving the power their families had built over generations. But at what cost?

Edward reached into the folder he had placed on the table earlier and pulled out a carefully prepared document-a formal proposal for the wedding date. He slid it toward her, his fingers brushing hers as he did so.

"I've spoken with my father," he continued, "and we've agreed on a date. Three months from now. That gives us enough time to prepare, but it's not too far off. It'll send a message to the public that we are serious, that this partnership is inevitable."

Sophia's heart sank. Three months? It felt too soon, too final. But she didn't have the courage to speak the truth-she didn't want to marry him, but what could she do? Her father's approval, her family's expectations, all pointed toward this union. She was trapped in a cage made of tradition, legacy, and the very power dynamics Edward seemed to wield so effortlessly.

"I... I don't know if I'm ready for this," Sophia murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Edward's expression softened, but it was a controlled softness-meant to reassure, to calm her fears. "You don't need to be ready, Sophia. You just need to accept it. I know this isn't easy. But I promise you, once we're married, things will fall into place. I'll take care of everything."

He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice. "You don't have to worry. We'll make this work. Trust me."

Sophia felt a wave of nausea wash over her. He was trying to convince her that this was the right choice, that this was the only choice. He was playing the role of the protector, the provider, the one who could make everything okay. But she wasn't sure if she could believe him anymore.

"Three months," she repeated softly, almost to herself. It felt like a sentence-one that had already been written in stone. "I suppose there's nothing I can do, is there?"

Edward's eyes softened with a calculated sympathy. "I know this is difficult, Sophia. But once it's over, you'll see that it was all for the best. We'll have our future, our families, our legacy. And that's all that matters in the end."