Chapter 7

The city lights glittered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Alexander Sinclair's office, in the Sinclair's Enterprise. The glow was a dazzling contrast to the tempest brewing inside. Behind his grand mahogany desk, Alexander sat rigid, staring blankly at his phone. His leg bounced anxiously beneath the table, unable to suppress the storm of emotions churning in his chest. The image of Sophia's tear-streaked face haunted him. Her fragile voice, the tremor in her confession—it all reverberated in his mind, not out of concern for her, but for the ticking time bomb she had become.

Alexander's fingers drummed incessantly against the polished wood, his jaw clenched so tight the muscles in his neck strained. This wasn't part of the plan. Sophia's pregnancy wasn't supposed to happen—she wasn't supposed to matter. He wondered how he let this happen. He had always thrived in control, manipulating people and situations to his advantage. But now, he felt the walls closing in, suffocated by the weight of expectations. Fear gnawed at him—an emotion he rarely allowed himself to feel. His mind raced, calculating the potential fallout: the scandal, the ruin of his family's pristine reputation, and, worst of all, his father's wrath.

His father, Donald Sinclair had no tolerance for mistakes, especially ones that could stain their family's prestigious reputation. He could already hear his father's cold voice, cutting into him with the disappointment of a man whose empire could not tolerate weakness. Alexander had always needed to prove himself, to uphold the family name at any cost, but now that pressure felt suffocating.

He shut his eyes, a brief flash of memory slicing through the present. His father's office loomed in the background, the elder Sinclair towering over a younger Alexander, his voice sharp as a blade. "Failure is not an option for a Sinclair," Donald had said. "You must be ruthless, no matter the cost." Those words had shaped Alexander, hardened him, but now, the walls he'd built around himself seemed to be closing in.

The door swung open without a knock, and Tiana Sinclair strode in, her heels clicking on the marble floor. Her smirk was as sharp as the glint in her eyes, a sister who delighted in chaos. "Well, well, well," she drawled, leaning casually against the doorframe. "It seems like you and your precious Sophia are having a little lover's spat."

Alexander barely looked up, his indifference an act to hide the growing unease inside him. "What do you want, Tiana, his voice Icy?" He wasn't in the mood for her games, not tonight. But Tiana, as always, reveled in stirring trouble, especially when it involved him.

Tiana's grin widened as she sauntered across the room, her gaze never leaving Alexander's. "I saw you at the park," she continued, her tone dripping with mock concern. "Leaving her there, in tears... That's not like you, big brother. Not so confident anymore, are we?"

Alexander clenched his jaw, his patience wearing thin. He was tired of her endless needling, her constant need to remind him of her control over their games. "Sophia's pregnant," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, though the weight of the confession felt heavier than he expected. The confession seemed to take something out of him, something he wasn't ready to acknowledge.

Tiana's smirk deepened, her eyes alight with amusement. "Pregnant, huh? Well, that certainly complicates things." She perched herself on the edge of his desk, twirling a lock of hair around her finger, clearly relishing the power shift. "What's your plan, or don't you have one?"

Alexander's fingers stilled on the desk, his jaw tightening again. "I need your help," Alexander grounded out, hating every syllable. Asking for help—especially from Tiana—was a bitter pill to swallow. But he was out of options, and the clock was ticking.

Tiana's eyebrows shot up in feigned surprise. "Help you? Oh, Alex, I don't know... What's in it for me?" She inspected her manicured nails, playing coy, though her mind was already racing with the possibilities.

Alexander's frustration was palpable, but he forced himself to keep calm. "I'll pay you," he bit out. "Just name your price."

Tiana's eyes sparkled with intrigue, but she wasn't ready to agree just yet. "You're lucky I'm in a generous mood," Then she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Remember those photos of you and Sophia? I never deleted them."

Alexander's blood ran cold. Those photos were dangerous—images of Sophia in compromising positions, though nothing incriminating had happened. He hadn't considered the damage they could cause until now.

"I could... edit them," Tiana continued, her smile wicked. "Make it look like she's been with other men. We can spread them around, ruin her image for good." Her suggestion was vile, even for Tiana, but his desperation clouded his judgment. He hesitated for a moment, the moral implications swirling briefly in his mind before he pushed them aside. Desperation won out, and he nodded. "Do it."

The next evening, Alexander attended a lavish cocktail party at the Hart estate, schmoozing with some of the city's elite. His new target was Madeline Hart, the daughter of a powerful business mogul, someone whose influence could help secure his family's business interests. The Sinclairs' reputation had to remain spotless, and Madeline was the perfect pawn to ensure that everyone believed Alexander had nothing to do with Sophia.

"Your father's empire is impressive," Alexander said smoothly, leaning in closer to Madeline as they stood near the bar. His voice was warm, charming, everything he knew how to be when he needed to win someone over. "Imagine what we could accomplish together."

Madeline smiled, but there was a flicker of calculation in her eyes, something Alexander hadn't seen in Sophia. Madeline wasn't as naive as Sophia, but she was still interested, and that was all Alexander needed. He watched her laugh at his well-timed jokes, noting how she hung on his words. His mind, however, was elsewhere—he was already plotting his next move, planning how to secure her trust while eliminating the threat of Sophia.

Meanwhile, Tiana was working behind the scenes, her part of the plan already in motion. She and Alexander had begun spreading subtle rumors, whispers planted among friends and acquaintances. It didn't take long before the photos surfaced online—images of Sophia, altered to show her in compromising positions with multiple men. The photos were grainy, but just clear enough to seem real. The damage was immediate.

Sophia's phone buzzed relentlessly as she woke up, messages flooding in from all directions. She stared at the screen, her heart pounding as the images stared back at her, twisted and false. Her vision blurred with tears, and a cold numbness spread through her chest. She threw the phone across the room in frustration, holding her mouth to stifle a scream but it didn't help. The damage was done. Her once-quiet life had been shattered, and the walls of her world were crumbling around her.

Her symptoms were becoming impossible to ignore. Nausea worsened with each passing day, and she could no longer hide the truth from her family but she knew she had to spill it out, especially with the false images of her and other men that was flooding online. During breakfast later that morning, Sophia's stomach churned violently, and she bolted from the table, running the rest room to throw up. The family froze, the silence unbearable until Sophia returned, pale and trembling.

What's wrong with you?" Harold demanded, his voice booming through the drawing room. "Are you sick, or is there something else you're hiding?"

Sophia's heart pounded in her chest. She couldn't keep the secret any longer. Her hands trembled as she stood before her parents, her mother sitting besides her father looking worried. "I'm pregnant," Sophia whispered, the words barely audible. The room fell into a deafening silence. Harold stopped in his tracks, his face contorting with fury. "Pregnant?" he roared, his voice filled with disbelief. "Who is responsible for this? Who did this to you?"

Sophia flinched, tears welling up in her eyes as she struggled to speak. "It's... it's Alexander Sinclair, He... he asked me to get rid of it."

Her Father's face turned a dangerous shade of red as he slammed his fist against the wall. "That boy... He's ruined you. You've disgraced this family, Sophia! After everything we taught you, you go and throw it all away for him?" His fury intensified, and he stormed out of the room, his footsteps heavy with anger. "That boy will pay for what he's done!" he shouted, the echo of his rage lingering even after he was gone.

Eleanor's gaze was cold, her lips pressed into a thin line. "You promised us," she said quietly, her voice laced with disappointment. "You promised you would remain pure until marriage. How could you betray our trust like this?"

Sophia's older siblings, Nathaniel and Victoria, exchanged shocked glances, too shocked to speak. Victoria glared at her, disgust and fury etched into her features. Then she shouted "You've ruined everything,", her voice cutting like a blade. "You're nothing but a cheap fool."

The next morning, Harold arrived unannounced at the Sinclair estate, his anger barely contained as he demanded a meeting with Donald Sinclair. The grand mansion loomed before him, a symbol of the wealth and power that Alexander's family held. Inside, the confrontation was immediate.

Harold's voice was a low growl as he faced Donald. "Your son ruined my daughter's life," Harold growled, his fists clenched. "He needs to take responsibility for this child."

Jonathan leaned back in his chair, his expression unfazed. "You come into my home, accusing my son, without any proof?" he sneered. "You're out of your depth, Montgomery."

Harold's eyes blazed with fury, but Donald's next words cut deeper. "If you dare to cross me, I'll make sure your family is financially ruined. You won't have a business left to run by the time I'm done with you." Harold stormed out, his heart pounding with rage, knowing he was up against a powerful enemy.

In the days that followed, the gossip mill worked overtime. The Montgomery family's once-sterling reputation crumbled under the weight of the scandal. At a charity luncheon, Eleanor found herself the target of judgmental whispers and turned backs, her former friends now treating her like an outcast.

A group of women where discussing. " She couldn't even keep her own daughter in line, but she acts all pious and sanctimonious" one woman murmured to another, their voices dripping with contempt. In the midst of them she saw Patricia Sinclair, Alexander's mother give her a triumphant smile before walking away.

The pressure on the Montgomerys mounted, with each new rumor another nail in the coffin of their social standing. Sophia's life as she knew it was unraveling at an alarming pace.

Meanwhile, Sophia could hardly leave the house. The whispers followed her wherever she went, eyes watching her with judgment and pity. She kept her head down, but inside, she was breaking. Every glance felt like a dagger, every whisper like a fresh wound.

As Alexander Sinclair watched it all the events unfold, he smiled enjoying how he didn't have to be the centre of shame and disgrace. Though he took some serious grilling from his parents and grandparents, there wasn't much damage to his family's reputation. He believed he'd won. He started dating Madeline, and formed stronger business connections. His family's reputation was safe, and Sophia's pregnancy was no longer a threat, but deep down at the back of his mind, he couldn't wave off the feeling that all this was not over.