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Chapter 1

The door was slightly ajar.

I heard laughter.

A woman's laugh.

Then the scent hit me—rich, sharp, deliberate.

Sandalwood and jasmine. Her signature perfume.

Alexander hated competing fragrances in his private spaces. He'd made it clear that in the executive wing, nothing should interfere with the crisp, neutral environment he demanded.

But tonight the air was thick with something possessive and intentional.

I pushed the door open.

And I saw them.

Alexander sat behind his mahogany desk, relaxed, sleeves rolled up, every inch the powerful CEO in his element—that commanding presence that made board members fold and competitors retreat.

On his lap sat Victoria Ashford.

Not standing beside him.

Not perched politely on a chair.

On his lap.

Her designer dress rode up her thighs as she leaned close, lips grazing his ear. Alexander's hand rested openly on her waist, his thumb drawing slow circles like he owned her.

Like she belonged there.

Like I didn't.

Victoria laughed, tipping her head back, and Alexander kissed her throat—lazy, unhurried, deliberate. His eyes darkened with that intensity that appeared when he was truly engaged.

Then his gaze lifted.

"Oh." His voice didn't shift. "You're back."

Victoria didn't move off him. She only turned her head slightly, smiling as if she were greeting the housekeeper.

"Sophia," she purred. "We were just... catching up."

Alexander's fingers stayed on her thigh.

I forced my gaze away from that detail before it could make me flinch.

If I reacted, I'd lose.

I took a slow step forward and placed a thin folder on the desk.

Alexander didn't even stop touching her when his free hand reached for it.

"What's this?" he asked.

His tone was absent—like he was humoring a child while his real attention stayed where it belonged.

With her.

"A university document," I said softly. "Liability waiver for the research lab. They need it signed."

Victoria's mouth curved wider.

"You're always signing her little school papers," she teased, voice dripping with amusement. "So obedient."

Alexander chuckled.

"It keeps her occupied."

The words slid into me like a blade.

But my face stayed calm.

I pointed at the signature line.

"It's required," I said. "They won't let me proceed unless it's signed by my legal spouse."

"Legal spouse?" Alexander's brow lifted slightly.

I smiled—small, controlled.

"You're my husband," I reminded him. "And you're the only family I have left."

For half a second, there was a pause.

That sentence should have meant something.

It should have carried weight—the reminder of vows taken, promises made.

But Victoria shifted on his lap, straddling him more comfortably, and Alexander's focus snapped right back to her mouth, to her perfume, to her warmth.

"Just sign," I said lightly. "I'm late to the lab."

He didn't read.

Not even a glance.

He picked up his Mont Blanc pen like it was nothing—like he wasn't approving the end of a marriage, the dissolution of everything we'd supposedly built together.

His signature flowed across the page in one sharp stroke.

Then he pushed the folder back toward me.

"Done."

Victoria smiled brightly, her fingers sliding into his hair.

"She's really good at being invisible," she whispered, loud enough for me to hear.

Alexander's eyes flicked to me for less than a heartbeat.

Blank.

Then his mouth returned to Victoria's.

I lifted the folder.

The ink was still fresh.

My throat tightened, but I swallowed it down.

"Thanks," I said.

I turned and walked out.

I didn't allow myself to breathe until the door closed behind me.

Only then did my fingers start to tremble.

I opened the folder inside my bag just enough to see the first page.

Bold. Clean. Final.

PETITION FOR DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE

Alexander Sterling had signed it without reading.

I stared at his name for a long moment.

Then I smiled.

Not because I was happy.

Because I was finally free.

That night, I sat on the edge of my bed, my suitcase half-open on the floor.

I'd been planning this for weeks. Quietly. Carefully.

In the Sterling family, a woman survived by being silent.

But leaving a man like Alexander required something else.

It required being smarter than the man who thought no one could ever outplay him.

My phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

I hesitated for half a second—then answered.

"Mrs. Sterling?" a male voice asked in crisp English with a soft European accent. "This is Dr. Laurent's office, Zurich Biomedical Research Institute."

My heart stopped.

Then it started again, faster.

"Yes," I said, voice steady. "Though it's Sophia Voss now. I'm going back to my maiden name."

"Of course, Dr. Voss," he continued smoothly. "We've reviewed your fellowship application. Your work on cellular regeneration and genetic therapy is... exceptional. The board has unanimously approved your placement."

For a moment, I couldn't speak.

The room felt too quiet.

Too small.

Like the walls were waiting to see if I'd stay trapped inside them.

"When would you be able to relocate?" he asked.

I looked around the bedroom that never felt like mine.

The closet full of clothes styled by Alexander's personal shopper. The sheets that smelled faintly like his cedarwood cologne. The empty space beside me where love should have been.

Five days.

Five days to disappear.

Five days to take my life back before he even realized what he'd signed.

I pressed the phone closer to my ear.

"Give me five days," I said softly. "Five days to prepare."

A beat.

Then the voice warmed.

"Of course, Dr. Voss. We'll arrange everything on our end. Airport pickup, housing near the institute, everything. Once you arrive, you won't need to worry about a thing."

I let my eyes fall shut.

For the first time in four years, I felt something I almost didn't recognize.

Relief.

"Thank you," I said quietly.

When the call ended, I stared down at my hands.

One held the divorce papers.

The other held my flight confirmation.

Five days.

Then I was gone.