Captive Princess (Sophia) novel Chapter 24

Her, then.

From then on, he started singling her out. He let her rest her head on his shoulder in class, had her accompany him everywhere, and tacitly allowed the high–society rumors about them to circulate. The effect was immediate. The other families backed off.

On graduation day, Isabella asked him to meet on the school roof. As they were leaving, an assassin from a rival family appeared, a dark gun barrel aimed right at him. In that critical moment, Isabella shoved him out of the

way.

Bang-

The gunshot echoed. He saw Isabella fall like a broken kite, blood gushing from her chest. In the hospital, the pale–faced girl whispered weakly, “Vincent… I don’t regret it…” The doctors said the bullet had grazed her heart. She’d nearly died.

Out of guilt, he had granted nearly every request she’d made over the years. The only thing he was grateful for was Isabella’s comment-“I want that little Romano princess to never dare bully my mother again“-which led him to propose “disciplining” Sophia to Don Romano himself.

At the thought, a smile involuntarily touched Vincent’s lips.

He remembered seeing Sophia for the first time as if it were yesterday. He was in his study at the Marcelli estate when the door was pushed open. A flash of red burst into his vision.

Sophia leaned against the doorframe, a smirk on her red lips. “The great Marcelli heir certainly takes his time. You made a princess wait for half an hour.”

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Chapter 12

+25 BONUS

The afternoon sun streamed through the blinds, casting a golden halo around her. She was as brilliant as a flame, burning her way into his black–and–white world. In that moment, he appeared unfazed, but his heart had skipped a beat.

After that, she found endless ways to cause trouble–a laxative in his whiskey, important contracts folded into paper airplanes, parading around in a scandalous nightgown during a family meeting. He met every challenge, playing the long

game.

The most memorable was the night she drugged him. He had sensed something was off with the whiskey but drank it anyway. When the drug took hold, he finally got his wish, pinning that feisty little wildcat to his desk.

“Vincent Marcelli!” Her eyes were red with fury. “You bastard!”

“I know,” he’d murmured, nibbling on her earlobe. “Principessa…”

After that, he took her again and again, but he never spoke of love. He knew her love for him wasn’t nearly as deep as the love he kept buried. If he confessed,

afraid the princess would take his love for granted. He was even more afraid

“Boss, we’re here.”

On the plane, he forewent his usual work, choosing instead to savor his memories of Sophia. The warmth of her tears on his neck when he carried her home; the way she’d secretly leave a glass of warm water by his bed when his stomach hurt, despite being furious with him; the softness of her body as she threw herself into his arms, always in a red dress, every he returned.

His throat tightened. For the first time, Vincent understood what it meant to be desperate to get home.

The next evening, the plane landed in New York. Vincent walked down the familiar figure. Every time he came back, Sophia would be there in a red arms like a happy little bird.

“Vincent! I missed you!”

time

Ps, his eyes instinctively searching for that

waving from a distance before flying

into

his

every time, his eyes would darken, and he’d be unable to wait, pulling her into the car and fucking her until her legs gave out and she begged for mercy.

“Vincent!”

A familiar voice called out.

Vincent’s lips curved into a smile, but as he turned, the smile froze on his face.