Crossing the line

Sophia ~

I made it to the Morrison Restoration Institute by nine AM, my heart still racing from defying Alexander's order to stay home.

"Mrs. Wyndham!" Dr. Morrison greeted me at the entrance, his white beard and warm smile instantly calming my nerves. "Or should I say, Ms. Chen? I wasn't expecting you until Monday."

"I wanted to see the workspace." I forced a smile. "Get reacquainted before my official start date."

"Wonderful! James is already in the lab. He'll be thrilled to show you around."

James Chen looked up from a Renaissance painting as we entered, his dark eyes crinkling with genuine warmth. At thirty-five, he had the kind of easy confidence that came from passion for his work rather than inherited wealth.

"Sophia." He set down his tools, extending a hand. "Welcome back to the real world."

"It's good to be back." I shook his hand, surprised by how natural it felt. No pretense. No calculation. Just simple human connection.

"I'll leave you two to catch up," Dr. Morrison said, already heading toward his office. "James, show her the Botticelli piece. I think she'll appreciate the challenge."

The moment we were alone, James's expression turned serious. "How much trouble are you in?"

"What?"

"For being here. Your husband called the institute yesterday, asking about your employment." He leaned against the workbench. "Dr. Morrison told him everything was confidential and to discuss it with you directly. But I'm guessing that conversation didn't go well?"

"How did you know?"

"You have that look. Like you're waiting for the other shoe to drop." He gestured to a stool. "Sit. Tell me what's really going on."

Maybe it was the understanding in his eyes. Maybe it was being surrounded by art again, by something that felt like home. But I found myself telling him everything—the loveless marriage, Elena, the divorce papers, Alexander's controlling behavior.

"Jesus, Sophia." James ran a hand through his hair. "That's not a marriage. That's a prison sentence."

"I know." I stared at the Botticelli, its faded colors somehow more beautiful than any of the perfect artwork in Alexander's penthouse. "That's why I need this job. I need something that's mine."

"You have it. Whatever you need—flexible hours, private workspace, security if he shows up—you have it." His hand covered mine briefly. "You're not alone in this, cousin. Family helps family."

The kindness in his voice nearly undid me.

"Thank you," I whispered.

My phone—the new one—buzzed. A text from Jennifer: *Alexander just showed up at my apartment demanding to know where you are. I didn't tell him. But Sophia, he looked scary. Be careful.*

My stomach dropped. "I need to go."

"What's wrong?"

"Alexander's looking for me." I grabbed my purse, panic rising. "If he finds out I'm here—"

"Let him find out." James stood, blocking my path to the door. "You're a grown woman with a job. He can't stop you from working."

"You don't know him. He'll—" I stopped as my old phone rang in my purse. Alexander's name flashed on the screen.

"Don't answer it," James said.

But my hand was already reaching for it, muscle memory overriding common sense.

"Sophia." Alexander's voice was ice and fury. "Where are you?"

"That's none of your business."

"You left the penthouse after I specifically told you to stay."

"You ordered. I didn't agree to obey." My hand trembled, but I kept my voice steady. "I'm not your employee, Alexander. I'm your wife. There's a difference."

"A wife who's currently making a fool of me." His voice dropped dangerously low. "I know you're at the institute. I know you're with James Chen and I'm giving you one chance to leave before I come there myself."

How did he know? Had Marcus followed me?

"You're having me followed again." Rage replaced fear. "You actually put surveillance on me?"

"I'm protecting what's mine."

"I'm not a possession—"

"You became mine the moment you said 'I do.' And if you think I'm going to let some distant cousin play hero while you dismantle our marriage, you're delusional." Background noise suggested he was in a car. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes. You can either meet me outside, or I'll come in and make a scene that will end your career before it starts."

The line went dead.

I stared at the phone, my whole body shaking.

"Sophia?" James's hand touched my shoulder. "What did he say?"

"He's coming here. He's—" I couldn't breathe. "He's going to destroy this. He's going to ruin everything like he ruins everything I try to build—"

"Hey." James turned me to face him. "Breathe. Look at me. Breathe."

I forced air into my lungs, focusing on his calm presence.

"You have two choices," James said quietly. "You can run and let him control you. Or you can stand your ground and show him you're serious about reclaiming your life."

"If I stay, he'll make a scene. He'll embarrass me in front of Dr. Morrison, in front of everyone—"

"Then let him." James's expression hardened. "Let him show everyone who he really is. A controlling, possessive man who can't stand his wife having independence."

The door to the lab burst open.

Alexander stood there, disheveled and dangerous, his eyes finding me immediately. He'd made it in ten minutes, probably breaking every traffic law.

"Sophia. Car. Now."

"No." The word came out stronger than I felt.

His gaze shifted to James, assessing and dismissive. "You must be the cousin."

"James Chen. Assistant Director." James didn't flinch under Alexander's glare. "And you must be the husband who doesn't understand property laws don't apply to people."

Alexander's expression turned murderous. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." James moved slightly in front of me. "Sophia is here of her own free will, doing a job she's qualified for. You have no right to drag her out like she's a wayward child."

"I have every right. She's my wife."

"She's her own person."

"Stay out of this—"

"Gentlemen." Dr. Morrison's voice cut through the tension. He stood in the doorway, his expression stern. "Mr. Wyndham, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. This is a professional workplace, not a marriage counseling session."

Alexander's jaw clenched. "Sophia. One last chance."

I looked at him—at the man I'd loved desperately for two years, the man who was willing to humiliate me publicly rather than let me have this one thing.

"No." I stepped closer to James, hating myself for using him as a shield but needing the support. "I'm staying. I'm working. And you can either accept that or leave."

Something dangerous flashed in Alexander's eyes. "You're making a mistake."

"The only mistake I made was marrying you."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence.

Alexander's expression went blank, that businessman mask sliding into place. But I saw the flicker of pain before he hid it.

"Fine." He straightened his tie with deliberate calm. "Stay. Play house with your cousin. Pretend this job will fill the void in your life." He turned to leave, then paused. "But understand this, Sophia—you're still my wife. And when you come crawling back because reality doesn't live up to your fantasies, I might not be waiting."

He left without another word.

I collapsed against the workbench, my legs giving out.

"You okay?" James steadied me.

"I don't know." Tears streamed down my face. "I just declared war on Alexander Wyndham. And I have no idea how to win."

My new phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number: *Brave move. But now he'll really come for you. - Eleanor Hartley*

My blood ran cold. How did Eleanor have this number?

And what did she mean by "come for you"?