Chapter 145

**Extraordinary Bride 145**

Sofie had managed to evade him on countless occasions. She had skillfully dodged his persistent calls, sidestepped opportunities to meet him, and had woven a web of self-deception convincing herself that a man like Peter could never truly be serious about her. Yet tonight, everything felt different. The air was thick with intention, and nothing about this evening was left to chance.

Peter had orchestrated this dinner with meticulous care. Every detail, from the elegant table setting to the soft glow of the candlelight, was crafted to convey a singular message: he was here to show her, to prove to her, that he meant every word he had ever spoken. This was not a game to him; he was not pretending or playing the part of a suitor. His heart was on the line, and he wanted her to see that.

His motivation ran deeper than mere attraction; it was for his grandmother. He refused to bring just any woman into her life. He longed for someone who embodied kindness and authenticity. And in his heart, he believed that Sofie was that woman. She lacked a prestigious family name, came from modest beginnings, and had no fame trailing behind her. Yet there was a quiet beauty about her, an effortless grace that drew him in. She was responsible, calm, and not the type to throw herself at every wealthy man who crossed her path.

From the very moment Peter laid eyes on her, he recognized her uniqueness. In that instant, something profound shifted within him. Perhaps it was time to abandon the superficial connections he had relied upon through escort agencies. Perhaps it was time to seek something genuine, something real.

But as Sofie sat across from him, she found herself at a loss for words. Her lips parted slightly, and her breath caught in her chest, as the weight of the moment settled around them. She could see it clearly now—this was not a jest, not a mere trick or casual proposition.

This man was completely serious.

Yet, she wouldn’t leap into his arms simply because he had uttered a few sweet nothings.

“Why me?” she finally managed to whisper, her voice barely above a breath. It was the only response her trembling heart could muster.

“Because you’re different,” he replied, his tone straightforward, as if it were the most evident truth in the world.

“You don’t know me,” she countered softly, a hint of disbelief lacing her words.

“I know enough,” he assured her, his voice steady and calm. “And trust me, Sofie, I know all I need to know about you. Just accept me. Let me take care of you.”

Sofie lifted her gaze and truly looked at him. She locked her eyes onto his icy blue ones, and he held her gaze without flinching, as if they were engaged in a silent duel, filled with unspoken emotions and thoughts.

“I’m sure there are other women… women from esteemed families… women who are more beautiful, more suited for someone like you,” she murmured, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Her doubts hung in the air, palpable and raw.

Peter didn’t waver. “That’s because a man like me is different from other men.” He leaned back slightly, exhaling a sigh. “I won’t lie to you—I’ve been with women. Many women. I’ve seen them all.”

His confession landed in her heart like a small stone, unsettling her thoughts. She couldn’t help but wonder:

If he has seen them all… then what value do I have? Surely, I’m not as beautiful as the women he has known.

But before her spiraling thoughts could consume her, Peter continued.

“Believe me when I say I’ve seen them all.” His voice softened, becoming almost tender. “But you… there’s something about you that stands apart. Something I haven’t encountered in any other woman. That’s what makes you special. That’s what makes you the right woman for me.”

Sofie blinked, taken aback. “And what is that?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Your simplicity,” he replied, a gentle smile gracing his lips. “Your natural beauty—not the kind that is forced or fabricated. Just you. Your mind. Your strength. And lastly… the fact that you’ve not been touched. You possess everything I desire in a woman.”

Heat rushed to Sofie’s cheeks at his last words, spreading warmth to her ears and down her neck. In that moment, she felt utterly exposed, as if he could see every hidden part of her life.

At twenty-five, she still hadn’t experienced the touch of a man. She had always been shy, cautious, and guarded. Her virginity was not something she flaunted or used as leverage for attention.

But how did he know?

“H-How did you know that I—”

“That you’re untouched?” He chuckled softly, his tone warm and inviting. “It’s simple, my love.”

Her breath hitched in her throat, and she felt her face flush a deep crimson.

He called me his love.

“Look,” Peter continued gently, “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. But I genuinely like you. And I promise—I will not touch you until our wedding night. That is how serious I am.”

A flicker of something crossed her eyes—uncertainty, disbelief, and perhaps a glimmer of hope.

“Are you sure about that?” she asked quietly, her voice barely a whisper.

Her question caught him off guard, his brows arching slightly. “Does that mean you’ve accepted my proposal?” he asked, a mix of excitement and confusion in his tone. “I can give you the kind of proposal you want. Something grand, something romantic… maybe in front of your friends or perhaps—”

“I don’t want anything like that,” she interrupted gently. “I’m not that kind of person. I just… want to trust you. That’s all I desire.”

Her final words emerged as a delicate whisper, soft and fragile, yet they struck him squarely in the heart.

Peter immediately stood, moving to her side. He took her hands in his, gently pulling her up from her seat. He was a man of straightforwardness; he had no patience for complications or games.

He gazed deeply into her dark brown eyes. “I promise to take care of you, Sofie. I promise to love you. And I promise to protect you from any danger. Thank you for accepting me.”

Then, with a tenderness that took her breath away, he cupped her cheeks with his hands and pressed his lips against hers.

The kiss was slow and soft, infused with sincerity. It spoke volumes, conveying emotions that words could never capture.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers and whispered, “Let’s get married in a week’s time?”

One week.

Her heart raced violently within her chest. But Peter was not joking; his eyes were filled with earnestness.

He meant every single word.