Chapter 2

Isabella claimed a water pipe had burst in her penthouse upon her return to the country. That was why she had moved into our guest wing—temporarily, of course.

Before I could object, Alexander had approved it. "The Thorne family has been our core supplier for decades," he said, as if that explained everything.

Now, she bossed people around this house like the hostess—showing off her figure in yoga clothes in the panoramic gym, hosting her wine tastings in our climate-controlled cellar, and always finding a reason to interrupt whenever Alexander and I were alone.

Tonight, I stumbled upon them in the home theater, both burying their heads in holographic projection blueprints. Isabella's slender fingers swiped across the virtual screen, hovering just millimeters from the back of Alexander's hand.

"Elena!" She smiled when she noticed me, the kind of smile one gives an ignorant child. "We're planning the new headquarters. You should come see the design for the sky garden, although I know you only understand things that are in the dirt."

"I have plant samples to categorize," I said, clutching my cardigan tighter. We were divorced. Whatever Alexander did, whoever he was with, had nothing to do with me.

Isabella's laughter was crisp, like clinking metal. "Always buried in the mud! Alex used to help me with biology models when we were kids—you tutored me personally, didn't you, Alex? My biology grades were all thanks to you."

Alexander gave a light chuckle. "Biology class was simpler than coding underlying architecture." His gaze briefly swept over me, silently testing my reaction.

I carefully kept my face blank, staring at the halo on the smart floor. How touching. After all these years, their childhood bond remained deep. I would just stay here, counting the days until I could escape this elite reunion.

By midnight, I was double-checking the humidity data for the greenhouse when Alexander walked into our bedroom. When he sat on the edge of the bed, the smell of whiskey mixed with Isabella's signature agarwood perfume clung to his shirt.

"Still fiddling with those weeds?" His fingers brushed my shoulder.

I instinctively stiffened. Yet when his hand slid down my spine, I reacted like a parched plant craving rain, instinctively leaning into his touch.

Pathetic, the rational part of my brain whispered. But three years of loneliness had chiseled a hollow inside me that only Alexander could temporarily fill, even if he would never stay.

As he undid the buttons of my pajamas, his lips found my neck. I closed my eyes, letting myself forget—

—Until my stomach gave a violent lurch.

"Elena?" Alexander froze when I suddenly covered my mouth and pushed him away.

The nausea came and went quickly. "Just... inhaled some allergens in the greenhouse today," I explained weakly. I took my birth control pills strictly on time; pregnancy was impossible. But the thought of Isabella sleeping in a room just down the hall while Alexander touched me made my stomach protest.

Just then, the whole-house smart alarm system let out a piercing beep.

"Alex?" Isabella's panicked voice came through the wall intercom. "The power in my room is out... I think I heard footsteps. I'm scared."

I felt Alexander's body tense up. The protector instinct was calling.

Before I could speak, he was already out of bed, grabbing the security tablet from the nightstand. "Stay here," he ordered, already striding to the door.

It turned out to be a false alarm—just a glitch in the smart home system, or perhaps Isabella had touched something herself. But when Alexander returned hours later, he walked straight into the bathroom without a word. I pretended to be asleep.

The next morning, I nearly choked on my black coffee when I saw Alexander flipping through my expedition application form—the document I had unwisely left on the kitchen island. My stomach tightened again.

"Polar Ecology?" He held up the application for the Icelandic Institute, raising an eyebrow. "When did you arrange this Nordic project?"

I forced a nonchalant shrug. "My mentor asked me to organize the materials for her." My fingers curled into my palms—out of sight, out of mind—but before I could hide them, I caught my pinky giving a slight tremor. Damn it.

Alexander swiped through the screen, scanning the details. "Reykjavik. You'll hate the polar night there."

Of course he didn't remember. Two years ago, I had suggested going to Alaska to see the aurora, just to experience the serenity of the eternal night. He had spent the entire trip on video conferences with the London branch.

I didn't respond. I just looked at him coldly.

He put down his coffee, his grey-blue eyes locking onto mine with an unsettling intensity. "You don't need to go to such a desolate place. I can buy a botanical garden tomorrow and appoint you as the Chief Consultant of Sterling Ecology."

That was the problem. Every achievement I made, every paper, every rare plant I cultivated, was overshadowed by the name Sterling. I opened my mouth to retort, but Isabella's laughter sliced through the tension.

"Good morning, geniuses!" She swept in like a breeze, wearing a silk dressing gown and holding a glass of kale juice, sitting lightly on the arm of Alexander's chair. "Alex, Legal needs us to review the new patent documents before noon." Her slender fingers brushed Alexander's shoulder with a familiar intimacy.

Alexander stood up, not sparing another glance at my application. "We'll handle it in the study."

When their figures disappeared at the end of the corridor, I snatched the forms back. When my hand moved to the "Marital Status" column, it finally stopped trembling.

Divorced.