365-Days Burning Vengeance

Sophia's Point of View

My office at the agency was dark and eerily quiet, but I didn't care. Slamming the door behind me, I stormed inside, yanking files and papers off desks, sending them fluttering to the floor.

The sound of crashing glass from the overturned vase was oddly satisfying, but it didn't cool the fire burning in my chest.

I couldn't believe what had happened at the engagement party.

Morana.

Her name was a curse in my head. She had humiliated me, turned everyone against me, and now, the whispers of the crowd were going to haunt me for weeks.

I shoved another chair over, its wheels spinning wildly across the room.

"Damn her!" I hissed, my fists clenching as I kicked a stack of papers off a nearby table. "She thinks she can just....."

"Sophia."

The sound of his voice froze me. I turned sharply to find Davian standing in the doorway, his silhouette illuminated by the hallway light. His expression was unreadable, though I could see a flicker of concern in his eyes.

I didn't answer him, instead choosing to grab a nearby stack of files and hurl them across the room. They hit the wall with a dull thud, papers scattering everywhere.

"Sophia," he called again, stepping further into the room.

Still, I refused to respond, venting my frustration by sweeping an entire row of documents off a desk with one angry motion.

Before I could continue my rampage, I felt his arms wrap around me from behind, pulling me into his chest.

"Let go," I snapped, trying to wriggle out of his hold.

But he didn't release me. His voice was soft and soothing as he said, "Sophia, stop this."

I finally managed to detach myself from him, turning to face him with fire in my eyes. "Stop?!" I spat. "Davian, your dumb fiancée is taking things too far! Control her!"

He blinked at me, his confusion evident. "Sophia, what are you talking about?"

I threw my hands in the air. "What do you mean, what am I talking about? What was the meaning of what she did back at the party? That stunt with the dress, the way she turned the crowd against me..... against us?"

Davian sighed, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. "She wasn't like this," he muttered, almost to himself.

"She used to be so submissive, obedient, timid. I don't understand what changed."

"Submissive? Obedient?" I scoffed, narrowing my eyes at him. "She's a loose cannon, Davian! A menace! If you don't control her, she's going to ruin everything!"

"She's not a menace, Sophia," he said, his tone firm but calm. "She's just… different now."

"Different?" I repeated, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Different doesn't even begin to describe it. She's a problem, Davian. And if you can't handle her, maybe I should."

Davian's lips quirked into a small smile as he stepped closer to me, his voice dropping to a low, coaxing tone.

"Sophia," he said softly, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear, "calm down."

I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest. "Don't 'calm down' me, Davian. This isn't something you can just brush off..."

Before I could finish my sentence, his lips were on mine, cutting off my tirade. The kiss was firm, insistent, and full of the kind of heat that made my knees weak.

"Davian," I murmured against his lips, trying to sound annoyed, but the way his hands slid to my waist made it hard to hold onto my anger.

"Shh," he whispered, pulling back just enough to pepper kisses along my jawline and down to my neck. "Let me help you relax."

His lips brushed against my pulse, sending a shiver down my spine. I tried to push him away, but my hands betrayed me, clutching his shirt instead.

"Davian, this isn't the..."

"Just let go, Sophia," he murmured, his hands trailing down my sides. "You're too stressed. Let me take care of you."

He didn't wait for a response, lifting me effortlessly and carrying me to the plush couch in the corner of the room. I gasped as he laid me down, his weight pressing against me as his lips found mine again, more insistent this time.

The tension in my body melted away as his hands roamed, exploring every inch of me with a possessive intensity. His kisses trailed down my neck, his teeth grazing my skin in a way that sent a surge of heat through me.

"Davian," I whispered, my voice a mix of protest and surrender.

"Relax, love," he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear. "I've got you."

The world outside the room faded away as we lost ourselves in the moment, his touch chasing away the anger that had consumed me earlier.

When it was over, I lay back on the couch, catching my breath as Davian propped himself up on one elbow beside me, his fingers brushing against my cheek.

"You're incredible," he said, his voice soft and adoring.

I smirked, though the fire in my chest hadn't completely dimmed. Sitting up, I adjusted my dress and looked him in the eye.

"Davian," I said, my voice cold and sharp. "Keep that dog of yours in check."

His brows furrowed, but I didn't give him a chance to respond. Standing up, I straightened my clothes and walked out of the room, leaving him behind.

I barely made it to my car when my phone rang, the sharp tone piercing through the stillness of the night. Digging through my bag with an annoyed huff, I pulled out my phone and glanced at the screen.

Nancy.

I rolled my eyes. What did she want now? With an irritated swipe, I answered the call, pressing the phone to my ear.

"What is it, Nancy?" I snapped, not bothering to hide the venom in my tone.

There was a brief pause before her hesitant voice filtered through the line. "Good evening, Sophia. I wanted to inform you about the magazine shoot scheduled for next week. It's for Élan Vogue, and it's a really big opportunity..."

"Get to the point," I interrupted, my patience already wearing thin.

She cleared her throat nervously. "The concept is modern royalty. The team will send the finalized wardrobe to your office by tomorrow for your approval. We..."

I cut her off again, my voice dripping with disdain. "Nancy, do you think I have time to sit around waiting for wardrobe approvals? You handle it. That's why I pay you."

"I... I understand," she stammered. "But the designer specifically requested your input....."

"I said, handle it, Nancy," I snapped, pacing back and forth beside my car. "And make sure everything is perfect. I don't want any last-minute screw-ups. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, Sophia," she replied quietly, her tone submissive.

"Good. Anything else?"

"Uh, no. Just that the shoot will be next Friday, and I'll....."

"Fine," I said curtly, cutting her off for the third time. "And tell them to make sure those clothes don't look cheap. I'm not wearing anything that screams bargain bin. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal clear," Nancy murmured.

Without another word, I ended the call, tossing my phone onto the passenger seat with a frustrated sigh. My head was pounding, the events of the evening still replaying in my mind like a broken record.

Morana.

Sliding into the driver's seat, I gripped the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles turning white. I would deal with her later, once this shoot was done. She wouldn't get away with embarrassing me. Not again.

I smirked to myself, already formulating a plan as I started the car. "Enjoy your little victory, Morana," I muttered under my breath. "Because soon, you'll regret ever crossing me."