The air felt suffocating. Sophia’s head spun as she processed Victoria’s words.

Husband?

No.

That wasn’t possible. Ethan was her husband. They had been married for five years. She had worn his ring, shared his bed, and built a life with him.

Yet, Victoria stood before her, with a bold look, shattering everything she was trying to rebuild, looking every bit like the woman who belonged in Ethan’s world.

The security guards didn’t move to stop her anymore. They were waiting, watching, almost like they expected her to back down or maybe leave.

Sophia forced her legs that were now feeling more like a jelly fish to be stable and firm, her fingers tightening into fists. She turned back toward the glass-walled room where Ethan was still seated, his posture relaxed, his attention fixed on something in front of him.

“Ethan,” she called, her voice a little shaky.

Nothing.

She tried again, louder this time. “Ethan!”

This time, he finally turned his head. Their eyes met through the glass, and for a brief moment, Sophia saw an expression that gave her concern.

Recognition.

Shock.

Annoyance.

Then, just as quickly, it faded away.

Ethan leaned back in his chair and said something to the man sitting beside him. The man nodded and immediately stood, walking toward the exit of the conference room.

The door swung open, and instead of Ethan, a tall man in a gray suit emerged. He was probably in his late forties, with sharp features and calculating eyes.

“Mrs. Carter,” the man said, his voice smooth but firm. “I’m afraid you are disrupting an important meeting.”

Sophia didn't answer him. She stepped forward, eyes locked onto Ethan.

“I need to speak to my husband,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt.

The man exchanged a look with Victoria, then turned back to Sophia. “I’m sorry, but Mr. Carter is very busy. If you’d like, I can arrange a meeting—”

“I don’t need a meeting,” Sophia snapped. “I’m his wife.”

Victoria let out a soft, amused laugh. “Oh, darling, you keep saying that.” She looked at Ethan through the glass, her expression turning playful. “Ethan, sweetheart, should I handle this for you?”

Sophia’s stomach twisted. She looked at the woman in front of her, not sure if she heard what she said correctly.

The word, handle. Like fight her or what?

The employee’s were now out with their phones. Taking a memory record of what was happening.

Ethan finally stood. His movements were slow, deliberate. He adjusted his cufflinks, smoothed down his tie, then walked toward the conference room door.

The moment he stepped out, the energy in the room shifted. The employees watching from a distance quickly lowered their heads, pretending to focus on their work.

He stopped a few feet from Sophia, his hands in his pockets, his gaze unreadable.

“Sophia,” he said, his tone neutral, almost detached. Like he didn't care who was looking at them or the office settings they were standing in.

Sophia’s breath hitched. Say something. Tell them this is a lie. Tell me she’s lying. Her glances at Ethan shouted all of this

But he didn’t flinch.

Instead, he sighed. “You shouldn’t be here.”

A sharp pain shot through Sophia’s chest.

She took a shaky step closer. “Ethan… what’s going on? Why is she calling herself your wife?”

Ethan stole a quick look at Victoria, who raised an eyebrow as if daring him to explain. Then, slowly, he looked back at Sophia.

“You need to leave.”

The words hit her like a slap across the face.

Sophia shook her head. “No. I need answers. Tell me the truth, Ethan.”

Ethan’s jaw tightened. A long silence stretched between them before he finally exhaled.

“The truth?” He let out a humorless chuckle. “The truth is, you were nothing more than a temporary arrangement.”

The room felt suffocating for Sophia. The word stung harder than it was supposed to.

“What?”

Ethan’s eyes darkened. “Our marriage was never real, Sophia. You were convenient. That’s all.”

Her heart stopped.

Victoria stepped closer, placing a hand on Ethan’s arm. “Darling, don’t be too harsh,” she purred, though the satisfaction in her eyes betrayed her amusement.

Sophia’s breath turned shallow. “You’re lying.”

Ethan’s gaze was cold. “Am I?”

Her mind raced, desperately searching for an explanation. She clung to the memories—late-night conversations, shared dreams, the way he used to look at her.

It was real. It had to be real.

But the man standing before her now wasn’t the Ethan she had married. He was a stranger.

Sophia’s lips trembled. “What about our wedding? The vows we made? You said those words.”

Ethan smirked,

“ What words? That I do?” he said with a chuckle, “ Those were charades. They were necessary, if the pope or whoever was going to join us had to hear.”

“A pretty illusion, wasn’t it?”

Tears burned at the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “So… all these years, I was nothing to you?”

Ethan tilted his head, as if considering his words. “You were… useful.”

A cruel chuckle escaped Victoria’s lips. “Poor thing. You really thought you were his one and only?”

Sophia’s hands shook. She wanted to scream, to demand answers, to make him feel the pain he was inflicting on her. But all she could do was stand there, shattered.

Finally, she whispered, “Why?”

Ethan’s expression didn’t change. “Because I never loved you.”

The words cut deeper than she could phantom.

The receptionist’s voice suddenly crackled through the office intercom, breaking the unbearable silence.

“Mr. Carter, your driver has arrived for your dinner reservation with Mrs. Lane.”

Sophia flinched. He had made dinner plans. With her.

Not once did he even think of their anniversary.

Victoria smiled, sliding her arm through Ethan’s. “Shall we?”

Ethan gave Sophia one last glance before turning away, walking past her as if she were nothing more than a stranger.

Sophia stood frozen, her heart pounding in her ears.

This was it.

This was the moment she realized her marriage had been a lie.

Her legs threatened to give out, but she forced herself to remain upright.

The security guards were watching. The employees were whispering. Victoria was smirking in triumph.

She wouldn’t break.

Not here.

Not in front of them.

Taking a slow, deep breath, Sophia turned on her heel and walked toward the elevator, her steps steady despite the hurricane inside her.

But just as the doors were about to close, a hushed voice reached her ears.

“…Are you sure she won’t be a problem?”

Victoria.

The response came swiftly, laced with quiet amusement.

“She won’t. Sophia’s too weak to do anything.”

The doors slid shut.