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Chapter 2

Victoria had claimed her penthouse needed "urgent renovations" after returning from California. Alexander approved her moving into the guest wing before I could even process it.

"The Ashfords have been business partners for three generations," he'd said, as if that justified another woman living under our roof.

Now she drifted through the estate like she owned it. Morning yoga by the pool in barely-there athletic wear. Cocktail parties in the media room. Always appearing whenever Alexander and I were in the same room.

Our marriage should have made this unbearable for him. Those vows we'd taken were supposed to mean something—commitment, loyalty, respect.

But Alexander's commitment to me had always been... conditional. Lukewarm.

Like he'd never fully chosen me.

Tonight, I found them in the private gym. Victoria was spotting Alexander on the bench press, her hands entirely too close to his chest, her body leaning over his in a way that had nothing to do with proper form.

"Sophia!" She straightened when she saw me, not even trying to hide her satisfied smile. "We're just finishing up. Alexander's teaching me his workout routine."

Alexander sat up, chest heaving, skin glistening with sweat. His eyes darkened with that intensity that appeared when he was truly engaged.

But not for me.

For her.

"I need to talk to you," I said quietly. "About the household accounts."

"Can it wait?" Alexander grabbed his water bottle. "Victoria and I have a board meeting in twenty minutes."

Board meeting. The meetings I used to attend as his wife, as the woman who'd helped build his first startup. The meetings I was no longer invited to.

"It's waited four years," I said. "Another day won't matter."

Something flickered across his face—confusion, maybe. But Victoria touched his arm, and whatever thought he'd been forming evaporated.

"The board can't start without you," she reminded him, her voice dropping into that breathy tone that made my skin crawl. It was fake—Victoria was many things, but demure wasn't one of them.

Alexander nodded. "We'll talk later, Sophia."

They left together, Victoria's laugh echoing down the hallway.

I stood alone in the gym, surrounded by the scent of his cologne and her perfume, and felt absolutely nothing.

Marriage was supposed to hurt when your partner betrayed you. Supposed to feel like your heart was being ripped apart.

I just felt... empty.

Maybe that was worse.

That night, Alexander came to our bedroom. I was already under the covers, laptop open, pretending to review research data.

"You're still up," he observed.

"Grant proposal due tomorrow."

He moved around the room with familiar efficiency—shedding his Tom Ford suit, heading for the shower. The routine of a man who shared a space but not a life.

When he emerged, towel wrapped around his waist, he paused.

"Sophia."

I looked up.

"Yeah?"

"Are we... okay?"

The question hung in the air. I could see him trying to understand why things felt off, why the careful equilibrium we'd maintained felt suddenly unstable.

But he couldn't quite grasp it.

Couldn't quite see me.

"We're fine," I lied smoothly. "Just tired from lab work."

Relief flooded his features. "Good. I thought..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "Never mind."

He climbed into bed beside me, keeping to his side. No goodnight kiss. No touch. No acknowledgment that we were supposed to be partners, bonded for life.

Just... routine.

I waited until his breathing evened out before I slipped from bed and padded to the closet.

Hidden behind my winter coats was a small box. Inside: my passport, birth certificate, my mother's wedding ring, and a thumb drive containing every piece of evidence I'd compiled over the years.

Evidence of Alexander's questionable business deals. His company's creative accounting. Everything that could protect me if he tried to use his legal team or his connections to stop me from leaving.

I didn't want to use it.

But I would if I had to.

The next morning, Alexander's assistant Marcus appeared as I was leaving for campus.

"Sophia." He rolled down his window, his expression carefully neutral. "Mr. Sterling wants you at the house tonight. Family dinner."

My stomach tightened. Family dinners were mandatory, a show of unity for the board members and business partners.

"I have a late lab session," I said.

"Cancel it."

Not a request. An order.

I met his eyes—professional brown, no warmth. Marcus had always been professional with me, neither warm nor cold.

"I'll try," I said.

He nodded and drove off.

I didn't try.

Instead, I went to the university legal aid office and filed the divorce papers with the county clerk. Paid extra for rush processing. Made sure everything was timestamped and official before Alexander could realize what he'd signed.

When I finally returned to the estate at midnight, the house was dark.

Except for one light.

Alexander's study.

I could have walked past. Should have gone straight to bed.

But something made me pause outside his door.

Voices. Low, intimate.

"—can't keep doing this," Alexander was saying, voice strained.

"Doing what?" Victoria's voice, soft and wounded. "Being here for you? Supporting you the way she never has?"

"Sophia's my wife—"

"In name only." A pause. "Alexander, we both know that marriage was arranged. Your father pushed it after her parents died. You never had a choice."

Silence.

"She's leaving anyway," Victoria continued. "I saw the research applications. Switzerland, Alexander. She's already planning her exit."

My blood ran cold.

"You went through her things?"

"I was worried about you," Victoria said. "About the company. And I was right to be. She's abandoning you. Abandoning everything."

More silence.

Then Alexander's voice, quiet and sharp: "If she tries to leave without proper settlement negotiations, she'll be violating our prenup."

My hand flew to my mouth, stifling a gasp.

"Exactly," Victoria purred. "So you'll stop her. You have every right. She's your wife—"

"She's my responsibility."

Not the same thing.

Not even close.

I backed away from the door, heart pounding.

Four days.

I had four days to disappear before he found out what I'd done.