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Chapter 3

The university was my sanctuary. In the lab, I wasn't Sophia Sterling, trophy wife and disappointment. I was Dr. Sophia Voss, promising researcher, the woman who'd published three papers in Nature and had a standing offer from one of Europe's premier institutes.

"Sophia!" My colleague Rachel bounded over, excitement radiating from her. "Did you hear? The Zurich team is presenting at the conference next week."

My pulse quickened. "Dr. Laurent's group?"

"Yeah! And rumor has it they're looking to expand their genetics program." She waggled her eyebrows. "You should totally network."

If only she knew I'd already accepted their offer.

"Maybe," I said noncommittally.

My phone buzzed. Alexander.

Family dinner tonight. Mandatory. Don't be late.

No "please." No "hope your day is going well." Just orders.

I typed back: Can't. Lab emergency.

Three dots appeared immediately.

Sophia.

Just my name. But I could feel the command behind it, that expectation of obedience that made everyone around him fall in line.

Except our marriage was officially over now, as of two days ago when the papers were processed. I'd checked the county records this morning. We were legally divorced, even if Alexander didn't know it yet.

Which meant his expectations shouldn't control me anymore.

I tested it, waiting for that familiar guilt, that urge to comply.

Nothing.

I smiled at my phone.

Sorry. Can't make it.

I turned my phone to silent and went back to work.

Hours later, when I finally left campus, Marcus was waiting by my car.

"You ignored a direct request," he said flatly.

"I had work."

"Mr. Sterling is... displeased."

I unlocked my car. "Mr. Sterling is always displeased with something."

Marcus caught my door before I could close it. "Sophia. What's going on?"

For a moment, I considered telling him. Marcus had always been fair, had never treated me with the casual dismissal Alexander did.

But he was Alexander's right hand first, last, and always.

"Nothing's going on," I said. "I'm just tired of being treated like an accessory instead of a person."

His expression softened slightly. "Your marriage—"

"There is no marriage." The words came out sharper than intended. "There never really was. We both know it."

Marcus opened his mouth, then closed it. Because he did know. Everyone knew. Whispered about it in the boardrooms when they thought I couldn't hear.

Sterling's marriage is a business arrangement.

She's window dressing for investors.

He should have married Victoria.

"Just let me go, Marcus," I said quietly.

He stared at me for a long moment. Then he stepped back.

"Three days," he said. "Mr. Sterling is hosting a major event in three days. Some announcement. He's requiring your presence."

My stomach dropped. "What announcement?"

"He didn't say." Marcus's expression was carefully blank. "But Victoria's been heavily involved in the planning."

Oh god.

He was going to announce a new partnership. Or Victoria's promotion to a C-suite position. Or both.

And he wanted me there to witness it, to give his new arrangement legitimacy by having the old wife present and compliant.

"I'll think about it," I managed.

"Sophia—"

But I was already driving away, Marcus's concerned face shrinking in my rearview mirror.

Back at the estate, I went straight to my room and locked the door.

My flight was in two days. Just two more days of pretending, of playing the obedient wife.

Two days and I'd be gone.

I pulled out my suitcase and started packing properly this time. Clothes I actually liked, not the designer outfits Alexander's stylist had chosen. My research notes. My mother's jewelry.

A knock at the door made me freeze.

"Sophia." Alexander's voice. "Open the door."

I shoved the suitcase under the bed and took a breath.

"Coming."

When I opened the door, Alexander stood there in full CEO mode—jaw tight, presence overwhelming, every inch the man who commanded billion-dollar deals.

"You missed the family dinner."

"I told you, lab emergency."

"Don't lie to me." He stepped inside, forcing me back. "I called the university. No emergency."

Except there was no way he could actually verify that. The lab's internal communications were private.

He was bluffing.

"I'm not lying," I said calmly. "And you need to leave. I'm tired."

"You're my wife—"

"No." The word came out flat and final. "I'm not. Not really. I never have been."

Alexander froze, shock flickering across his face.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." Years of silence, of swallowing hurt, of making myself smaller—it all came pouring out. "This marriage was never real. Not to you. I was convenient. I was your father's dying wish. I was obligation. But I was never your choice."

"Sophia—"

"No." I held up a hand. "I'm done, Alexander. With the pretending. With the empty bedroom. With being invisible in my own life while you parade Victoria around like she's already your wife."

His face went pale. "Victoria is just—"

"I don't care." And the truth of it nearly made me laugh. "I genuinely don't care what Victoria is to you. Because in two days, I'll be gone, and you can promote her to CFO and live happily ever after."

"Gone?" His voice dropped dangerously low. "You're not going anywhere."

"Watch me."

"Sophia." He moved closer, and for the first time in years, I saw actual emotion in his eyes. "You can't leave. We have obligations. Contracts. You're my wife."

"I was never yours." I met his sharp gaze without flinching. "I was convenient. I was your father's plan. I was duty. But I was never yours."

The truth hung between us like a blade.

Alexander's control slipped, and for a second I thought he might actually try to physically stop me.

But then his phone rang.

Victoria's ringtone.

We both heard it.

He looked at me, then at his phone.

And when he reached for the phone instead of me, I knew I'd won.

"Go," I said quietly. "She's calling."

Alexander's hand hovered over the phone. "This conversation isn't over."

"Yes," I said. "It is."

He left, phone to his ear, Victoria's voice already purring through the speaker.

I locked the door behind him.

Two days.

Just two more days of this prison.

Then I was free.

I finished packing in silence, every item a small declaration of independence. When I finally crawled into bed, I didn't cry.

I smiled.

Because in forty-eight hours, Sophia Voss would board a plane to Zurich.

And Sophia Sterling would cease to exist.