5

Seven fifty-five AM, and Sophie stood before the mirror in her office's private bathroom, scrutinizing her reflection. She'd taken Alexander's words as the challenge they were, choosing a silk blouse in deep burgundy paired with a perfectly tailored black pencil skirt. Professional, but not defensive. Strong, but not armored.

Her hand trembled slightly as she reapplied her lipstick. Eight hours of fitful sleep hadn't helped her prepare for what was coming. Being alone with Alexander in his office, discussing business like they used to...

A knock at her door startled her. Jenny stood there, looking apologetic.

"Mr. Reid asked me to tell you he's ready now."

Of course he was. Sophie gathered her materials, ignoring the knowing look in Jenny's eyes. The walk to Alexander's office felt like crossing a battlefield.

His executive suite occupied the building's prime corner, with views that made even Sophie's generous office seem modest. She'd expected his assistant to be gatekeeping, but the outer office stood empty.

"Come in, Sophie." His voice carried through the partially open door. "And close it behind you."

She did, turning to find him not behind his imposing desk but standing at the floor-to-ceiling windows, his back to her. Morning light outlined his broad shoulders, caught the silver at his temples.

"Do you remember," he said without turning, "the first time we discussed marketing strategy?"

Sophie's throat tightened. "In your startup's conference room. You had just landed your first major client."

"And you told me I was thinking too small." Now he did turn, and the intensity in his eyes made her breath catch. "You said, 'Dreams don't have budgets, Xander. They have horizons.'"

"That was a long time ago."

"Was it?" He moved away from the window, closer to her. "Sometimes it feels like yesterday. Other times..."

"Like another lifetime?" she offered quietly.

"Like a beautiful lie." His voice hardened. "Shall we discuss your implementation timeline?"

The abrupt shift to business stung, but Sophie was prepared. She moved to his conference table, spreading out her materials. "I've broken it down into phases, with clear milestones and—"

"Too aggressive," he cut in, coming to stand beside her. Close enough that she could smell his cologne, different from what he'd worn years ago but still distinctively him. "You're pushing too hard, too fast."

"The market won't wait, Alexander." His name slipped out again, and she saw him tense. "Our competitors—"

"Are you in contact with any of them?"

The accusation hung between them like poison. Sophie straightened, anger finally overtaking her caution.

"You don't get to do that," she said, voice shaking. "You don't get to hire me, let me present to your board, and then treat me like a spy. Not when you're the one who orchestrated all of this."

"Don't I?" He stepped closer, too close. "Three years ago, you sold company secrets to my biggest competitor. Secrets I shared with you not just as my marketing director, but as my—" He broke off, jaw clenching.

"As your what?" Sophie challenged, stepping into his space. "Say it, Alexander. What was I to you?"

His eyes darkened dangerously. "You know exactly what you were."

"Do I? Because from where I'm standing, I was just another acquisition. Another piece in the great Alexander Reid's portfolio."

His hand shot out, gripping her wrist. Not painfully, but firmly enough to stop her retreat. "Is that what you told yourself when you were selling my dreams to Vertex? That I deserved it?"

"I never said you deserved it." The words came out as a whisper.

"Then why?" His other hand came up to her face, not quite touching. "Three years, Sophie. Three years of wondering what I did wrong, what I missed, how I could have been so blind—"

"You weren't blind." She couldn't bear the pain in his voice. "You were perfect. That was the problem."

Confusion flickered across his face. Before he could respond, his phone buzzed. Once, twice, three times in rapid succession. His grip on her wrist loosened.

"The Beijing deal," he said, voice rough. "I have to take this."

Sophie stepped back, gathering her scattered composure. "We should reschedule."

"Sophie—"

"The timeline needs revision anyway." She moved toward the door, professional mask firmly in place. "I'll have a new proposal on your desk by tomorrow."

"Wait." He caught her at the door, his height forcing her to look up at him. "Have dinner with me."

She stared at him, stunned. "What?"

"Dinner. Tonight. Le Bernardin, eight o'clock." His phone buzzed again, but he ignored it. "No business. No accusations. Just... answers."

Warning bells rang in Sophie's head. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Probably not." His lips curved in a ghost of his old smile. "But you owe me that much, don't you?"

The question hit like a physical blow. Because he was right – she did owe him. Owed him the truth, at least.

"Eight o'clock," she agreed quietly.

His phone buzzed a third time. "I have to—"

"Take your call." She opened the door. "Some dreams don't wait for answers."

She felt his eyes on her all the way out, but she didn't look back. Couldn't look back. Because if she did, he might see what she'd been hiding for three years.

That every accusation he'd thrown at her was wrong.

That every assumption he'd made about her betrayal was based on a lie.

And that the real reason she'd sold his secrets to Vertex would destroy not just his trust, but everything he'd built since she left.

Le Bernardin at eight. She pulled out her phone, canceling her evening plans. She had exactly ten hours to decide how much of the truth Alexander Reid could handle.

And how much would destroy them both.