Captive Princess( Sophia Romano) novel Chapter 2

Isabella stood at the bottom of the stairs in a simple white dress, the picture of fragile innocence.

She spotted me, and a brilliant smile spread across her face. "You must be Sophia. I'm Isabella. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

I didn't answer, just stared down at her.

Don Romano emerged from the living room. Seeing Isabella, a rare look of paternal affection crossed his features.

"Isabella, you must be tired from your journey. Have Sophia show you to your room."

"Thank you, Uncle Romano," Isabella replied sweetly.

"Take Sophia's room. It gets the best light, perfect for your recovery," Don Romano announced.

I turned to him. "My room?"

"From now on, it's Isabella's room. You can move to the third floor. There's an empty guest room up there."

A cold laugh escaped my lips. "No, thanks."

I went back upstairs and began to pack.

Thirty minutes later, I was dragging my suitcase down the stairs.

Don Romano saw my luggage and frowned. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm leaving," I said without looking back. "Since I'm no longer a Romano, there's no reason for me to stay here."

"Sophia!" he yelled after me. "Your wedding is in two weeks! Don't be ridiculous!"

"I know." I pulled the door open. "I'll be at the wedding to fulfill our agreement."

The door slammed shut behind me. I drove away from the Romano estate without a second glance.

My first stop was the most expensive hotel in Manhattan—The Plaza.

"I'd like your most expensive suite," I told the concierge.

"For how many nights?"

"Two weeks. "

When I paid, I used the supplementary credit card Don Romano had given me. It had a five-million-dollar limit that I had rarely touched.

Today, I was going to max it out.

Once in the suite, I immediately began my revenge spending.

I contacted Vera Wang's private couturier and ordered three bespoke wedding gowns, each worth a hundred thousand dollars.

Then I bought ten sets of high jewelry and two limited-edition Rolexes.

In a single day, I spent nearly four million dollars.

Soon enough, Don Romano's call came through.

"Sophia! Are you out of your mind? You spent four million in one day!"

"What's wrong?" I asked, lounging on the hotel's plush leather sofa. "I'm being shipped off to Boston. A girl has to make a good impression."

"You need to spend that much to make an impression?"

"Of course," I said, sipping my champagne. "I'm marrying the heir to the Sterling family. I can't look cheap, can I? Besides, the Sterlings are paying five hundred million for this alliance. A few million is pocket change."

"You..." Don Romano was sputtering with rage.

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