Chapter 339: What Counts

For the rest of dinner, Madison and I worked together like a team, keeping the conversation light, making Sofia laugh despite everything she’d been through. We told stories, shared jokes, created this bubble of warmth and acceptance around her.

But I could see in Sofia’s eyes that she didn’t quite understand what we meant when we said "family." To her, I was just Peter - the boy from Lincoln Heights who wasn’t from old money, probably still wondering when we even got money to buy a mansion, a boy who she’d fallen for despite his lack of social status.

She’d given me her heart and her body, but not because she thought I could solve her problems. She’d chosen me because I saw her as a woman worth loving, not a business asset and I loved her the way she wanted.

Most of the kids in Lincoln Heights, rich or poor, had grown up together and we pretty much went to the same schools. They knew each other’s families, their capabilities, their limitations.

To Sofia, apart from the sex that had awakened parts of herself she’d never known existed, I was just the boy she loved. The idea of me having the power to reshape her world wasn’t really settling in.

What did settle in though, was my care. My promises. Even if she didn’t believe I could actually save her from Jack or her father’s expectations, the fact that I wanted to - that I was willing to try - gave her something to hold onto.

As they believed it’s the thought that counts.

But to me it was more than promises.

"I should go," Sofia said eventually, checking her phone. "My mom’s waiting downstairs."

I started to stand. "I’ll walk you down—"

"No," she said quickly, then softened her tone. "Thank you, but... I think I need to do this part myself. Face her questions about why I look like I’ve been crying."

I understood. She needed to start reclaiming some agency, even if it was just the simple act of walking to her mother’s car alone.

Sofia hugged Madison goodbye first, and I heard her whisper, "Thank you for understanding. For not judging me."

Madison whispered back, "You’re my sister now. Sisters don’t judge - they protect."

Then Sofia turned to me, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of the strong, confident girl she could become once she was free from Jack’s psychological torture.

"Thank you," she said simply. "For listening. For caring. For making me feel like maybe... maybe I’m worth something after all."

Those words hit me like a physical blow. That she could doubt her own worth after everything she’d been through, that Jack Morrison had succeeded in making this incredible girl question her basic value as a human being - it took everything I had not to let the rage show on my face.

"Sofia," I said, pulling her into a gentle hug, "you are worth everything. Don’t ever let anyone convince you otherwise. You mean a world to me, you’re my woman."

She held on tight, and I could feel some of her desperation melting into something that might eventually become hope.

When she pulled back, something had shifted in her eyes. The despair was still there, but underneath it was something fierce and desperate and grateful. Before I could react, she reached up, framed my face in her hands, and kissed me.

Not a gentle kiss. Not a grateful peck. This was the kiss of a girl who’d been drowning and had suddenly felt solid ground beneath her feet. Deep, crushing, desperate - pouring months of pain and fear and hopelessness into the connection between us, and drawing back something that might actually be strength.

When she finally broke away, her eyes were bright with unshed tears, but they weren’t tears of despair anymore.

"I love you, Peter," she whispered, her forehead still pressed against mine. "Even if you can’t fix everything... I love that you want to try. That’s enough. That’s more than enough."

She didn’t believe I could actually solve her problems. That much was clear. But she loved me anyway, and that love was giving her the strength to imagine a different future. Maybe one where she could finally kick Jack Morrison’s small, pathetic nuts and walk away with her head held high.

After she left, Madison and I sat in comfortable silence for a moment. Then Madison turned to me with that look that meant she was about to say something important.

"She doesn’t understand yet, does she?" Madison said quietly. "What you’re capable of. What kind of power you actually have."

"No," I said. "And maybe that’s better for now. She fell in love with regular Peter, not the me that can reshape her world. That love... it’s pure. Uncomplicated."

Madison nodded thoughtfully. "But she’s going to find out eventually."

"Yeah. And when she does, I want her to understand that nothing changes. That whether I’m worth millions or have supernatural abilities or can destroy her enemies, I still see her the same way - as Sofia, the girl who deserves to be loved and protected."

Madison reached across the table and took my hand. "You know what you need to do, don’t you?"

"What’s that?"

"Become her official boyfriend. At least in her parents’ eyes." Madison’s voice was intense, strategic. "Her father needs to understand that his daughter isn’t a business asset. That love - real love - doesn’t come with merger clauses."

I considered that, my mind already working through the implications. "It’s not going to be that simple. Jack Morrison isn’t going to just step aside quietly."

Madison’s smile was predatory. "Jack Morrison is about to become the worst possible choice for a son-in-law. Especially once certain information comes to light about his treatment of their precious daughter."

"And you think her father will just... accept this?"

"Peter, once her parents see the difference between a boy who protects their daughter and one who destroys her, the choice becomes obvious. Plus," Madison’s grin turned wicked, "it’s going to be incredibly satisfying to watch Jack Morrison’s face when he realizes he’s lost everything."

I squeezed her hand, feeling that familiar surge of affection for this brilliant, devious girl who understood me so completely.

"So, what’s the plan?" Madison asked.

I thought about Sofia’s tear-streaked face, about the systematic abuse she’d endured while everyone around her stayed silent, about the adults who’d failed to protect her when she needed them most.

"The plan," I said, "is to remind everyone why you don’t fuck with what’s mine. And Sofia..." I paused, feeling that protective rage settle into something colder, more calculating. "Sofia is definitely mine to protect now."