The Road Out.

~ Sophia ~

"You're leaving." Maria's cloth stopped mid-swipe against the glass table, her eyes dropping to the suitcase in my hand. "Does Mr. Laurent know?"

"He knows enough," I said. I set the suitcase down long enough to hug her, quick and hard, and felt her arms tighten around me like she wanted to say more and had decided against it.

"Goodbye, child," she said, and let go first.

I walked back into the dining room where the blue folder sat on the long mahogany table. My hand shook as I reached for the pen. I stared at the front page, my mind racing. Did Damien really want this? Did he truly want to throw away three years because of a fight with his brother?

I looked up when I heard the sharp click of heels on the marble floor. Vivian walked into the room, her coat already on, her face perfectly composed. She stopped when she saw me standing over the paperwork with my suitcase by my side.

"Still here, Sophia?" Vivian asked, her voice dry and cold. "I thought I made it clear that the car would be waiting for you. You should be packed by now."

"Did Damien consent to this?" I asked, my voice cracking slightly as I pointed at the folder. "Did he actually tell you he wanted a divorce, or did you just put this in front of him?"

Vivian let out a short, nasty laugh. She walked over to the table and tapped her gloved finger against the bottom of the page. "Are you blind, child? You can see his signature right there. Damien does not sign things he does not mean. He is a busy man, and he does not have time for a wife who creates constant drama in his home."

"He was angry last night," I said, trying to hold onto any shred of hope. "We didn't get to talk properly. He was stressed about the contract."

"He was not too angry to sign these papers," Vivian said, leaning closer, her eyes flashing with malice. "He came straight to my office after he closed his bedroom door on you. He told me he was tired of your complaints. He told me he wanted this finished quickly and quietly so he could focus on what actually matters—this family and this company."

I said nothing. The words felt like heavy stones dropping into my stomach. I looked down at the sharp, dark ink of his signature. It was real. He had really written his name, giving up on me without even looking me in the eye this morning.

"Do not flatter yourself, Sophia," Vivian continued, her voice dropping into a harsh whisper. "Damien married you because it was convenient for a public relations story at the time. You were a quiet little worker who didn't make noise. But now you are a liability. You are trying to destroy his relationship with his own brother because you cannot handle the weight of our world. He was never going to choose you over Adrian."

"Adrian held my wrist, Vivian," I whispered, my tears finally blurred my vision. "He cornered me in the dark. He probably wants me for himself Vivian."

"And Damien told you to stay out of his way," Vivian snapped back, completely unmoved. "A real Laurent wife would know how to handle herself without crying to her husband at midnight like a frightened child. You do not belong here. You never did. Now sign the papers, take your little suitcase, and leave before I have the security guards escort you past the gates."

I gripped the pen tightly. The pain in my chest was so sharp I could barely breathe, but beneath the pain, something else was growing. A cold, hard certainty. I was completely alone in this house, and no one was ever going to stand up for me. I had to protect myself. I had to protect the tiny life growing inside me, away from their cruelty and their lies.

I bent over the table and signed the divorce papers, my full name in black ink beneath Damien's. My hand didn't shake this time. I finished the last letter, set the pen down, and pulled my gold wedding ring off my finger. I set it right on top of the stack of papers, right in the center of his signature, where anyone walking past would see it catch the light.

"There," I said, looking straight into Vivian's cold eyes. "It is done. You can have your house back."

Vivian didn't look at the ring. She just picked up the folder, checking my signature with a small, satisfied nod. "Good. A car is waiting at the side entrance."

"I don't want your car," I said flatly.

I picked up my suitcase and walked out the front door I'd never once used without permission. I walked down the heavy stone steps, out onto the curb, and stood there in the bitter cold, pulling my wool coat tight around my body while I waited for a local cab that didn't belong to the Laurent family.

My phone buzzed in my pocket before the car even turned up the long driveway. I pulled it out and saw Adrian's name lighting up the screen. I watched it ring twice, feeling disgust rise in my throat, before I pressed decline. Then, I opened his contact info and pressed block, my thumb completely steady. Vivian's name came next, blocked without a single second of hesitation. Damien's name sat there a moment longer. The cursor hovered over his contact card, my hand not quite as steady this time, before I pressed the button and blocked him too.

The cab pulled up with a soft squeal of brakes. The driver got out and loaded my heavy suitcase into the trunk without asking any questions. I climbed into the back seat and sank against the worn fabric, letting the cheap vinyl smell of vanilla air freshener replace the cold, oppressive marble smell I'd carried in my clothes for three long years.

"Where to, miss?" the driver asked, looking at me through the rearview mirror.

"The train station," I said, keeping my voice clear. I looked out the side window and didn't look back at the massive iron gates as they shrank behind the tall pine trees.

I took out my phone and texted Julian. A secret business tycoon only me knows. From the train platform, my fingers moving faster than my thoughts. I need that favor. I'm leaving today.

The reply came back before I had even found an empty seat on the train.

The Monterra Bay apartment is ready by tonight, ma'am.

I stared at the glowing text message until the words blurred together into a warm haze. I typed back, I'll be there soon, and put the phone deep into my bag before I could second-guess a single part of my plan.