The fresh breeze of the Mediterranean blew around Sophia as she stepped onto the deck of Dante's fantastic yacht. The vessel was shining under the sun, and its lovely design and luxurious trappings were a symbol of the man who owned it. For Sophia, the magnificent life felt overwhelming. She had grown up in comfort, but this world of plentifulness and isolation was different from the one she was used to. her father was wealthy and she lived a modest life but this felt a lot more expensive and way too much.
Dante, dressed flawlessly in a tailored linen suit, was giving instructions to the captain when Sophia entered the lounge area. His sharp looks were made brighter by the afternoon light, and though he was showing calm control, she sensed a storm developing beneath his surface.
"We'll be in Monaco by sundown," he announced, barely looking in her way. His tone was friendly but distant, a reminder that their marriage was a transaction, not a union of love.
Sophia nodded, unsure of what to say. She kept walking aimlessly to the edge of the deck, her eyes looking over the endless blue sea. Despite the beauty surrounding her, she felt trapped on the yacht. Every moment reminded her of the cost of this arrangement: her freedom for her father's salvation. She remembered what was at stake and why she did what she was doing.
That evening, the yacht anchored in Monaco's harbor, the city's shining lights reflecting on the water like a sea of stars. Sophia changed into a simple yet elegant dress and joined Dante for dinner on the upper deck. The table was set with crystal glasses and a fine China meal, a meal fit for royalty. Yet the tension between them was noticeable. She sat in a very simple way different from her usual eating position and her mind still trying to accept what was happening around her.
"Monaco is beautiful," Sophia said, breaking the silence and trying hard to be cordial.
Dante raised a brow, his expression unreadable. "You'll get used to it."
His dismissive reply actually stung her like a bee, but she forced a smile. "Do you come here often?"
"Business brings me here frequently," he replied, cutting into his steak with precision. "The Mediterranean is a convenient and friendly location for certain business dealings."
Sophia's curiosity increased with Dante's response, but she knew better than to ask further questions. Instead, she focused on her meal, the silence between them growing heavier with each passing moment, but her mind was still busy with loads of questions.
Later that night, unable to sleep, Sophia wandered through the yacht's expensive interior looks. Every detail, from the marble floors to the complicated gold accessories shows Dante's wealth and power. She passed by a closed door leading to his study and paused when she heard his voice.
"I don't care what it takes," Dante said, his tone low and dangerous. "They'll pay for what they did."
Sophia's heart paused. She shifted closer, kept absolutely quiet and still to hear more of the conversation.
"Victor Moreno is only the beginning," Dante continued. "This is bigger than him. They think they're untouchable, but I'll prove them wrong."
Her breath seized. Was he talking about her father? She backed away before she could hear more and in other to avoid being seen or discovered, her mind kept racing with questions. What did Dante mean by "they"? And why was her father involved?
The following day, Sophia decided to learn more. Dante spent most of his morning in meetings, leaving her to walk and check the yacht freely. She wandered into his study, a room filled with shelves of books and old artifacts. Despite its beauty, the space was filled with an air of secrecy.
As she approached the massive mahogany desk, a shining reflection of metal caught her eye. A hidden drawer, slightly open, showed a collection of files. Her hands kept shaking as she pulled it open, displaying a heap of documents, maps, and photographs.
Sophia's eyes checked through the items. There were images of powerful figures, many of whom she recognized from news reports. Their names were written on sticky notes attached to the photos, alongside words like "embezzlement" and "conspiracy."
Then she saw it: a photograph of her father, Victor Moreno. The note attached read: "Key player. Betrayal very close."
Her breath seized at her discovery. What betrayal? And how was her father connected to these people?
Before she could process the information she had discovered further, she heard footsteps approaching. Panic went through her as she immediately returned the documents to the drawer and pushed it to close slowly trying to avoid any form of sound. She turned just as Dante entered the room, his penetrating eyes looking straight into hers.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone sharp.
Sophia's mind searched for an excuse to avoid suspicion. "I... I couldn't sleep. I thought I'd find a book to read."
Dante's gaze stayed on her, suspicion showed in his expression. "The library is two doors down."
"I must have gotten lost," she said, forcing a nervous laugh.
He stepped closer, his presence became an intimidation to her. "Stay out of my study. Some doors are meant to remain closed."
Sophia nodded quickly and walked gently past him, her heart pounding. As she moved back to her room, one thought kept playing in her mind: she needed to uncover the truth, no matter the risk.