CHAPTER EIGHT *ALEXANDER*

 CHAPTER EIGHT

*ALEXANDER*

My father was discharged from the hospital three days later with strict orders to rest. He ignored them immediately and called a board meeting.

"We're terminating all contracts with the Zhao Group," he announced. "Effective immediately. Legal will handle the fallout."

The board erupted. David Chen, ironically no relation to Sophia's family, stood up. "That's a fifty-million-dollar deal. We can't just"

"We can and we will. The FBI has evidence that the Zhao Group is a criminal organization. Anyone who votes to continue this partnership will be personally liable when the indictments come down." My father's voice was steel. "All in favor of termination?"

Every hand went up.

"Good. Meeting adjourned."

I followed him back to his office. "You need to rest."

"I need to fix the mess I created." He poured himself water, hand still trembling slightly. "Eleanor called. She wants to see me."

"You're not going."

"She's my mother, Alexander."

"She's also complicit in your kidnapping." I'd read the FBI's preliminary report. Seen the emails between Eleanor and Catherine Chen discussing the Zhao Group deal, the marriage arrangement, all of it. "She knew, Dad. She knew what they were and she pushed the deal anyway."

"I know." He sat down heavily. "I've known for years that your grandmother was ruthless. I didn't realize she'd crossed into criminal."

"What are you going to do?"

"Confront her. Get answers. Then decide if I'm pressing charges against my own mother." He looked at me. "What would you do?"

A month ago, I would have said family came first. Would have found a way to protect Eleanor, to minimize the damage. Now I thought about Sophia in that diner, telling me about a timeline where my grandmother had destroyed her piece by piece.

"I'd burn it all down," I said. "Everything she built on blood money and manipulation. I'd make sure she never hurt anyone again."

My father smiled faintly. "When did you get so ruthless?"

"I learned from the best."

He left for Eleanor's house an hour later. I wanted to go with him, but he refused. This was his confrontation to have.

I went to Sophia's apartment instead.

She answered the door in paint-stained clothes, hair tied back, looking more real than I'd ever seen her. "Alexander. Did something happen?"

"Can I come in?"

She hesitated, then stepped aside. Her apartment was smaller than I expected, full of canvases and art supplies. A half-finished painting dominated one wall a woman's face, screaming silently, tears turning to flames.

"Self-portrait?" I asked.

"From before." She didn't elaborate. "Why are you here?"

"My father's confronting Eleanor. I wanted to be anywhere else when that happens." I turned to face her. "And I owe you the truth. You saved his life. That deserves honesty."

"I saved his life to hurt the people who killed me. Don't make it noble."

"I'm not. I'm just keeping my end of our deal." I sat on her worn couch. "You want to know what I remember from the other timeline? All of it?"

Sophia put down her paintbrush. "Yes."

So I told her. Every fragment, every dream, every horrible piece. The wedding where she'd looked happy and I'd felt trapped. The dinner where Eleanor had eviscerated her while I said nothing. The miscarriage I'd treated like an inconvenient scheduling conflict. The way I'd slowly, methodically, crushed everything soft and bright about her until she was a ghost in her own life.

"I remember your face the day you found out about Victoria," I said. "Not that we were having an affair we weren't. But that I told her things I never told you. Trusted her with decisions about the company, about our life, that you should have been part of." I forced myself to meet Sophia's eyes. "You asked me why. I said it was business. You called me a liar. You were right."

"Why didn't you just divorce me?"

"Because Eleanor said marriage was commitment. Said walking away was weakness. And because" I stopped.

"Because what?"

"Because some part of me knew I was destroying you and I couldn't stop. It was easier to keep going than to admit what I'd become."

Sophia was quiet for a long time. "Do you remember the accident?"

"No. That part's blank."

"I remember all of it." Her voice was distant. "We'd had another fight. You'd missed our anniversary dinner for a business meeting. I said I wanted a divorce. You said we'd discuss it later, like it was another agenda item. I got in my car and just drove. Ended up on a mountain road, crying too hard to see straight."

"And the brakes failed."

"They did. But I don't think I tried very hard to survive it." She looked at me. "I was so tired, Alexander. So tired of being the problem, the disappointment, the thing you had to manage. When the car went over the edge, there was this moment of relief. Like I was finally free."

The words hit like a physical blow. "Sophia"

"Then I woke up five years earlier at that gala, and I realized I'd been given a second chance. Not to save our marriage. To save myself from ever being that broken again." She stood. "That's why I can't forgive you. Not because of what you did, but because I can't forget who I became when I loved you."

"I'm not asking for forgiveness. I'm asking for a chance to be different."

"You are different. You saved your father instead of the deal. You believed me instead of doubting me. You're choosing the hard thing over the easy thing." Sophia crossed to the painting. "But that doesn't mean we're meant to be in each other's lives. It just means you're becoming the person you should have been all along."

My phone rang. My father.

"Alexander, you need to come to the estate. Now."

"What happened?"

"Your grandmother had a stroke. A real one this time. It's bad."

I hung up and looked at Sophia. "Eleanor collapsed. It's serious."

"I'll come with you."

"You don't have to"

"Yes, I do. Because if she dies, you'll spend the rest of your life wondering if you could have saved her. And I need you to know that some people can't be saved. They can only be survived."

We drove to the estate in silence. The house was full of people doctors, staff, family members I barely recognized. Victoria was there, looking shaken.

"They're saying it's massive," she said. "She might not make it through the night."

My father appeared, looking ten years older. "She wants to see you. Both of you."

"Both?" I asked.

"She asked for Sophia specifically."

We followed him upstairs. Eleanor was in her bed, half her face slack, speech slurred. But her eyes were alert and sharp as ever.

"Sophia," she managed. "Come here."

Sophia approached the bed. I stayed back, watching.

"You won," Eleanor said, each word an effort. "You destroyed everything. Happy?"

"No," Sophia said quietly. "Revenge doesn't make me happy. It just makes me even."

Eleanor's good hand grabbed Sophia's wrist. "He'll hate you. When he realizes you planned all of this. Manipulated him. Used his father. He'll hate you like you hate me."

"Maybe. But at least I'll be alive to see it." Sophia pulled free. "And he'll still be better than the man you tried to make him."

Eleanor looked at me then. "She's dangerous, Alexander. More dangerous than I ever was. She'll destroy you."

"You already did that," I said. "She's just teaching me how to rebuild."

My grandmother closed her eyes. "Foolish boy. Just like your father."

The doctor ushered us out. My father stayed with her.

In the hallway, Sophia leaned against the wall. "She's right, you know. I did manipulate you. I knew your father was in danger and I used it to make you trust me."

"I know."

"And you don't care?"

"I care. But you also saved his life. So I guess I'm learning to live with complexity." I looked at her. "Did you plan all of it? Everything that happened?"

"Not all of it. I planned to expose Eleanor and my mother. To destroy their partnership. Your father's kidnapping was unexpected. But yes, I used it. I used you. I'm not sorry."

"Even if it makes me hate you?"

"Especially then. Because if you hate me, you won't try to save me. And I don't need saving, Alexander. I need you to stay away from me and become someone worthy of the power you have."

She walked toward the stairs.

"Where are you going?"

"Home. To finish my painting. To live my life without your family in it." She paused. "Your grandmother will probably die tonight. When she does, don't call me. Don't look for me. Just let me go."

"What if I can't?"

Sophia smiled sadly. "Then you haven't learned anything, and we'll just destroy each other all over again."

She left.

I stood in that hallway and knew she was right. Knew I should let her go.

Knew I wouldn't.