Chapter 2

Everyone in our circle had always seen the Voss family as cold-blooded, declining, and almost bankrupt—full of old-money prejudice and outdated practices. For decades no one had chosen them for alliance, so they stayed sidelined, treated as outcasts with limited visible resources and shrinking market share. Their stock was stable but never flashy.

In my past life, as the flames consumed me, I had seen a pair of piercing dark eyes watching from the pier—it was Damien Voss. He had tried to dive in and save me, but the fire was too fierce and the security too tight. He failed.

Father wasn’t happy with my choice. He paced the room, loosening his tie. “Sophia, think again. The Voss family’s public image is terrible. Their last quarterly report showed declining assets. If things get tough there, Isabella can always help you out later.”

But when Isabella heard I had chosen the Voss family, she couldn’t hold back. She mocked me right to my face in front of the servants and Alex, who was still zipping up his pants.

“Sister, even if you can’t have Alex, you don’t have to pick the rundown Voss group. Don’t end up starving and living in some shabby apartment before you even pop out a kid. I hear they’re practically bankrupt—last month they sold off two office buildings just to stay afloat.”

“The Blackwood family is loaded. Their private jets, the Hamptons estate, even their bath water is infused with imported French spa minerals. If your days get too rough in that beggar family, sister, I can pack up some leftovers and designer hand-me-downs for you.”

She said it all without caring about the servants’ shocked stares, covering her mouth and laughing hysterically, her body still flushed from sex.

In Isabella’s mind the Blackwood empire had endless resources and Alex was not only loyal in public but a total beast in bed—his massive cock always straining against his tailored pants, promising endless stamina to fuck her senseless and knock her up fast so she could lock in the heir and the power.

But she didn’t know the truth I carried from my past life: conceiving quickly with the Blackwood line was extremely difficult for outsiders, and Alex was obsessed with heirs to the point of madness. After six months with no pregnancy, he had turned his rage on me, tormenting me day and night in our marital bed. His thick shaft would pound into me brutally until I bled, choking me with his strong hands while growling filthy commands about needing an heir, flipping me into every position until I begged for mercy just to vent his frustration.

It wasn’t until I used every secret contact and risky method I had that I finally got pregnant and birthed Liam, securing board control for the Blackwoods. Only then did Alex finally ease up and start treating me like a wife instead of a breeding tool.

I kept my smile faint and serene. “No need to worry about me, sister. Since he’s the mate—I mean, the husband—I chose, I won’t regret it, right?”

“Sophia, what’s there to be proud of picking a broke-ass family like Voss?” Isabella sneered, seeing I wasn’t angry, which only made her angrier. She knocked all the pastries and champagne glasses off the side table with a dramatic sweep of her arm. Crystal shattered. “I’ll be the first to get pregnant. My child will be the next empire controller. Just watch.”

I ignored her tantrum, turned on my heel, and went to prepare for the wedding in three days. I had already decided my revenge would be slow, calculated, and devastating.

Isabella was right about one thing—the Voss family was publicly seen as dirt poor. Their stock price had been flat for years. I worried they couldn’t even afford a proper wedding gown that would pass elite scrutiny, so I secretly planned to order one myself from a private designer.

But to my surprise, that very night Damien Voss came personally to deliver the wedding dress in a sleek black Rolls-Royce that pulled up silently outside our building.

This was the first time I really took in his appearance up close. He stepped out of the car in a perfectly tailored midnight-black suit, skin pale as moonlight yet flawless, sharp chiseled features that looked carved by a master sculptor, high cheekbones, a strong jawline framed by tousled dark hair, and lips curved in a subtle seductive smirk that promised dark, addictive pleasures. He was tall—easily six-foot-four—leanly muscled in a way that spoke of quiet power rather than showy bulk. His presence exuded raw, magnetic sex appeal that made my pulse quicken against my will.

He carried a large flat box himself, no assistant.

Opening it in the private elevator, there was a breathtaking blood-red trailing gown, the chest adorned with glowing dark crimson gems that caught the light like fresh blood. I had never seen anything so stunning; I was genuinely mesmerized.

“Sophia, this is hand-stitched by our private atelier in Milan. The gems are from our family’s private collection—each one authenticated and insured for more than most people’s annual income.”

Damien looked at me with deliberate distance, as if he wasn’t the man about to marry me in three days. His voice was cool, controlled, but there was something deeper underneath.

“This is the first Voss-White alliance in decades. If anything isn’t to your liking—fabric, fit, style—tell me immediately. I’ll have it redone tonight.”

“Thank you. I love it,” I said honestly, fingers brushing the luxurious silk.

Just as I was about to close the box, Isabella sauntered in from the side entrance, arm linked possessively with Alex, looking smug as hell in a tiny dress that barely covered her ass.