Sophia's demands began subtly enough. Over breakfast one morning, she set her coffee cup down with a deliberate clink and looked directly at Adrian.
"Adrian," she said sweetly, her voice carrying the kind of charm that demanded attention, "I think it's time we discuss what's best for Isabella."
Adrian glanced at her, his face a blank canvas of indifference. "What exactly are you implying, Sophia?"
She leaned forward slightly, her fingers brushing Isabella's hair as the child sat obliviously beside her. "A proper family. Isabella needs stability—a mother and father under the same roof, together, as husband and wife."
Joi, sitting across the table, stiffened. She kept her eyes down, her hand tightening around the fork in her grip.
Adrian, on the other hand, seemed unbothered. He took a sip of his coffee before answering, his tone calm. "Isabella already has a roof over her head and everything she needs. What more do you want, Sophia?"
Sophia's smile faltered, but she quickly recovered, her voice now tinged with a feigned innocence. "Adrian, I'm not just talking about material things. I'm talking about love and security. For Isabella's sake, don't you think it's time we took the next step?"
Joi finally raised her eyes, meeting Sophia's pointed gaze. Adrian, however, seemed unfazed, ignoring the weight of her words entirely. "I don't think we need to rush into anything," he said curtly, pushing back from the table.
Sophia's face darkened as Adrian left the room without another word.
Joi took a slow sip of her juice, her gaze never leaving Sophia. "You know, for someone so desperate to claim a man, you're not doing a very good job of it."
Sophia's head snapped toward her. "Excuse me?"
Joi placed her glass down, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at her lips. "You heard me. You're grasping at straws, Sophia. Even Isabella can sense it." Her voice was calm but deliberate, each word a dagger. "Adrian isn't yours, no matter how many times you try to play the 'perfect mother.'"
Sophia's composure cracked for a brief moment, her hand tightening around her coffee cup. "You're quite bold for someone who's nothing more than a placeholder in his life."
Joi laughed softly, leaning back in her chair. "Placeholder? That's rich coming from someone who left him and is now pretending to be part of this family. Tell me, Sophia, does it bother you that Adrian barely acknowledges your existence unless you force his hand?"
Sophia's expression twisted in anger, but Joi wasn't done.
"Let me make one thing clear." Joi's voice dropped, her gaze sharp and unwavering. "I'm not going anywhere. So, if you want to keep playing house, go ahead. But don't expect me to stand by and watch you manipulate him—or Isabella—for your little fantasy."
Sophia stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor as she glared down at Joi. "You'll regret this," she hissed, her tone venomous. "I'll make sure your life here is a living hell."
Joi's smirk widened. "You can try."
Sophia stormed out of the dining room, her mind already racing with plans. If Adrian wouldn't willingly give her what she wanted, she'd find a way to force him.
As for Joi, she sat back, her smirk fading as a wave of exhaustion washed over her. She knew Sophia wasn't one to give up easily, and this was far from over.
Sophia's patience had its limits. If Adrian wouldn't take the bait, she'd force his hand. With a carefully curated plan, she contacted a trusted media outlet later that day, ensuring the story would break before Adrian could intervene.
The next morning, headlines spread like wildfire:
"Billionaire Adrian Reginald Set to Wed Sophia Carlson, Mother of His Child!"
Sophia watched the chaos unfold with a satisfied smile. She knew Adrian's reputation wouldn't allow him to deny the claim, especially not with Isabella involved. The media framed their union as a touching story of rekindled love and family unity, painting Sophia as the devoted mother and Adrian as the caring father finally stepping up to solidify their bond.
Adrian remained silent, offering no public rebuttal. Joi, however, felt the blow like a physical punch. The headlines, the photos of Sophia holding Isabella—it all left her feeling like a shadow in Adrian's life.
Anna stared at her phone, her hands trembling with rage. "That lying snake!" she spat, tossing the device onto her desk.
Her father, Mr. Smith, looked up from his papers, raising an eyebrow. "What's the matter now, Anna?"
"It's Sophia," Anna snarled, pacing the room. "She's claiming that Isabella is Adrian's daughter. Can you believe the audacity?"
"And you're certain the child isn't his?" Mr. Smith asked calmly.
Anna's expression twisted into a venomous sneer. "Of course, I'm certain! I was the one who set her up with that lowlife! Drugged her, paid the maid to make sure she stayed pregnant—I orchestrated everything. Adrian was never part of the picture."
Mr. Smith leaned back in his chair, a calculating gleam in his eyes. "If Sophia's using the child to secure her position, she's bolder than I gave her credit for. What do you plan to do about it?"
Anna's jaw tightened. "She thinks she can outsmart me? I'll expose her lies. She won't get away with using my plans against me."
Sophia wasn't naive. She knew Anna would retaliate sooner or later, but she wasn't afraid. After all, she'd spent years struggling to bring Isabella into this world, enduring the humiliation of Anna's schemes.
Back then, she'd realized the pregnancy could be used against her if the truth came out too soon. That's why she disappeared, letting the storm pass until she could return on her own terms.
But now, there was no turning back. Isabella was her only leverage, her only chance to secure a future with Adrian. She didn't care about the lies or the risks. As long as Adrian believed the story—or at least let it slide—she could keep her place in his life.
Sophia watched from the sidelines as Joi grew quieter with each passing day, clearly affected by the rumors. It was only a matter of time before Joi would remove herself from the equation.
Or so Sophia thought.
---
Adrian had seen the headlines. He'd read every word, felt every accusation of his supposed engagement with Sophia. But true to his nature, he said nothing.
To the outside world, his silence was an admission of truth. To Joi, it was another reminder of her place in his life—a placeholder, a convenient lie.
But inside, Adrian was seething. He knew Sophia's move was calculated, a desperate bid to control him. Yet, he allowed the rumors to persist. He couldn't deny Isabella publicly without risking an even bigger scandal, and Sophia knew it.
That evening, as Adrian walked into the study, he found Joi sitting in the corner, her knees pulled to her chest as she stared at the floor.
"You've seen the news," he said, his voice low.
Joi looked up at him, her eyes dull. "Why didn't you deny it?"
Adrian's jaw tightened, but he didn't answer. How could he?
The silence between them stretched, heavy and suffocating, until Joi finally rose to her feet. "I understand," she said quietly, walking past him.
As the door clicked shut behind her, Adrian's fists clenched. He hated the sight of Joi retreating from him, but for now, there was nothing he could do to stop it.