Page 15 of His Grip

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door. She turned to see Nina leaning casually against the frame, a playful smirk curling her lips.

“Tell me this place isn’t gorgeous,” Nina said, clasping her wrists and strolling into the room with a dancer’s grace. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, the kind Sofia envied but couldn’t summon in herself. “I swear I could live here forever.”

Sofia scoffed, brushing a lock of brown curls behind her ear. She wished she could have the same kind of enthusiasm Nina had for this place but she couldn’t bring herself to feel that way. “A beautiful prison if you ask me.”

Nina tilted her head, the smirk fading as she stepped closer. “Sofia.” Her voice was softer now, probing. “What’s really going on?”

Sofia hesitated, biting her lower lip before folding her arms tightly across her chest. “Everything here feels... wrong. Like I’m walking through someone else’s life, and every step I take, I lose a piece of myself. I don’t even know who I am in this place.” Her voice broke, but she quickly turned away, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. “Maybe I’m being dramatic.”

“You’re not,” Nina said firmly, stepping beside her. “You’re scared, and you’re hurt. Anyone would feel the same.”

Sofia let out a bitter laugh. “You don’t. You look like you belong here.”

“Because I’ve learned how to pretend,” Nina admitted, her gaze dropping. “But it’s not real. None of it is. These walls,the glamour—it’s all a façade. Underneath, it’s just as cold as it looks.”

“Then why does it feel like you’re handling this so much better than I am?” Sofia whispered.

Nina’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Because I’ve been where you are, Sofia. Maybe not exactly, but close enough. I know what it’s like to wake up and realize your life isn’t your own anymore.” She placed a hand on Sofia’s arm, grounding her. “But you’re stronger than you think. You’re still here. That means something.”

Sofia finally met Nina’s gaze, her voice trembling. “I don’t feel strong. I feel... trapped. Like I’m suffocating in a life that isn’t mine.”

Nina nodded slowly, her voice quieter now. “It’s okay to feel that way. It’s okay to hate this, to hate him. But don’t lose yourself in the hate, Sofia. Don’t let it consume you. Because you’re more than this. More than him.”

Sofia blinked, her vision blurring as tears spilled over. “How do I hold on to myself when everything around me is trying to take me apart?”

Nina’s expression softened, and she pulled Sofia into a hug. “You don’t have to do it alone. I’m here, okay? No matter what happens, I’m here.”

For the first time since the wedding, Sofia let herself cry, her walls cracking just enough to let Nina’s words in. With a deep breath, Sofia met Nina’s eyes. “Thank you, Nina. It means a lot to know I have you by my side.”

“Of course,” Nina said, her smile widening as if some weight had lifted. “Now, let’s figure out how to turn this gilded cage into something a little more… free.”

When they hugged, Sofia felt, for the first time since stepping into this penthouse, she didn’t feel completely alone.

Even after Nina left and Sofia was once again surrounded by silence, her fear of Viktor didn’t feel as overwhelming. Instead, something sharper stirred within her.

She wandered to the bedroom, her mind churning with an idea she couldn’t shake. Slowly, she slipped out of her dress and into a silk robe, the material clinging to her curves and barely brushing mid-thigh. The neckline plunged low enough to make her smirk at her reflection.

When she walked into the living room, she felt his presence before she saw him. Viktor’s deep, measured voice carried from the far side of the penthouse, where he stood near the bar, speaking in low tones over the phone.

Sofia moved deliberately, her bare feet silent against the marble floor. When she stepped into his line of sight, he froze mid-sentence. His sharp gaze swept over her, darkening as it took in the sight of her robe and what it didn’t hide.

He ended the call without a word, slipping his phone into his pocket as he slowly approached her. “Can I help you?” he asked, his voice dangerously calm.

Sofia tilted her head, feigning innocence even as her pulse quickened. “Just getting comfortable.”

His eyes narrowed, their steel-gray depths unreadable but charged. “That’s not comfort, Sofia. That’s a provocation.”

Her lips curled into a small, defiant smile. “Is it working?”

Viktor’s lips twitched into a smirk, though it wasn’t warm or kind. It was the kind of smile that made her spine tingle with equal parts anticipation and unease. “No,” he said simply, but his gaze betrayed him, lingering too long, too intently.

“Then you won’t mind if I stay like this,” she replied evenly, refusing to look away.

He stepped closer, the faintest scent of his cologne reaching her—a mix of cedar and something darker, more dangerous.“The maids would help you with anything you want; don’t look for me. I’ll see you when I’m done with work.”

Her heart hammered against her ribs from his proximity.

Viktor stared at her for a moment longer, the tension between them coiling tighter with every second of silence. Then, just as she thought he might crack, he stepped back, his expression hardening into something impenetrable.

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