Sophie POV
Sophie doesn't call the number back.
Instead she sits in her basement room for two days with the folder open on her bed, staring at Ryan's name like it's going to change into someone else's if she looks at it long enough.
It doesn't.
On Sunday night at 11:47 PM, her phone rings. Not a text. An actual call from the unknown number.
"You're making this harder than it needs to be," a man's voice says. Not the woman from the coffee shop. Someone else. Someone who sounds tired of waiting.
"I can't do this," Sophie says immediately. "I can't work for him. I can't pretend I don't know him. I can't be in the same room and act like everything's normal."
"You can," the man says. "And you will. Because the alternative is going back to that diner. Is that what you want?"
Sophie closes her eyes. She thinks about Murphy's. She thinks about the smell of burnt coffee and grease. She thinks about making forty-seven dollars in a shift and pretending it's enough.
"When do I meet with him?" she asks.
"Monday," the man says. "Nine AM. The address is on the contract. Don't be late."
He hangs up.
Sophie doesn't sleep again. She showers at five in the morning. She puts on the navy suit even though it's Sunday and she's not supposed to work. She gets coffee at a place that's not Murphy's because she needs to pretend for a few hours that her life is something other than what it actually is.
By 8:30 AM on Monday, she's sitting in a coffee shop three blocks from the penthouse address, trying to figure out how to breathe normally.
Her phone buzzes. A text from a number she doesn't recognize.
"Basement level parking. Use the service entrance. Third floor. Conference room B. Come alone."
Sophie walks to the address with her heart in her throat.
The building is exactly what she expected. Glass and steel and money. The kind of building that makes you feel small just by looking at it. She goes to the basement level like the text said. She finds the service entrance. She takes the elevator up, watching the numbers climb.
Third floor. Basement level parking to third floor. She's only gone up a few stories but it feels like she's climbing toward something dangerous.
The conference room is easy to find. Conference room B. She walks in and there's a man sitting at a table with a stack of files.
Not Ryan. Someone else. Someone in his fifties wearing glasses and an expression that suggests he's had this conversation a hundred times before.
"Sophie Winters," the man says. It's not a question.
"Yes," Sophie says.
"My name is David Chen. I work for Ashford Industries. I'm going to brief you on the project and then you'll meet with the CEO."
Sophie sits down. Her legs are shaking so badly she's grateful to be sitting.
David opens a file and starts talking about supply chain problems. Leaks. Sabotage. Internal theft. Numbers and percentages and logistics that would normally fascinate Sophie but right now just sound like white noise.
"Your job is to identify where the problems are coming from," David says. "You'll have access to all operational files. All employee records. All distribution data. You'll work directly with the CEO to implement solutions."
Sophie forces herself to focus. This is work. This is what she's good at. She can do this part.
"The CEO," Sophie says carefully. "He's Ryan Ashford?"
David looks up from his file. His eyes are sharp.
"Yes," he says. "Do you have a problem with that?"
Sophie could say yes. She could tell him that she was married to Ryan. That she spent five years loving him and two years hating him and another year just trying to forget he existed. She could tell him that she can't do this because it's impossible.
But she also needs five million dollars.
"No problem," Sophie says. "I'm just confirming."
David nods. He doesn't believe her but he doesn't care.
"You'll be working in the penthouse," he continues. "That's where the CEO spends most of his time when he's in Boston. You'll have a command center set up. All the files you need. Everything you ask for, you'll get."
"How long have I been working there?" Sophie asks. "In case he asks?"
"Two months," David says. "You were hired by an external consulting firm. He's never met you before. You're a stranger. You're just another consultant."
Just another consultant. Just another person. Just another nobody working for a man who used to know her completely.
"The non-disclosure agreement is binding," David says. He slides a document across the table. "You tell anyone about this work, anyone about the company, anyone about anything you see or hear, the contract ends. You get no money. You also get sued. You understand?"
Sophie understands.
"There's one more thing," David says. He closes the file and leans back in his chair. "The CEO is going through something personal right now. Some business rivals. Some family pressure. He's not in the best place mentally. But he's still a genius. And he's still ruthless. Don't mistake kindness for weakness. Don't mistake attention for anything other than business. You work for him. You do the job. You don't get involved in anything else."
Sophie nods because she doesn't trust her voice.
David stands up and walks to the door.
"Come on," he says. "He's waiting."
Sophie follows him into the hallway. Her hands are sweating. She wipes them on her suit jacket.
They walk down a hallway that seems to go on forever. Floor-to-ceiling windows show Boston spread out below. Sophie used to love this view. She used to stand in Ryan's old office just looking at the city like it belonged to them.
That was before. Before he chose his empire. Before he made her feel like she was the thing holding him back from being great.
David stops in front of double doors. He knocks once and then opens them without waiting for an answer.
The office is massive. The view is even better than she remembered. And standing in front of the window, silhouetted against the Boston skyline, is Ryan Ashford.
He turns around and Sophie's entire world stops.
He's exactly like she remembered but different too. Older. More tired. There are lines around his eyes that weren't there three years ago. His suit is more expensive. His watch is fancier. But his face is the same. His eyes are the same. The way he's looking at her with that mixture of confusion and interest is the same.
"This is Sophie Winters," David says. "Your supply chain consultant. I'll leave you two to go over the details."
David leaves.
The door closes.
And Sophie is alone in a room with her ex-husband who has no idea that she's his ex-husband.
Ryan walks toward her slowly. He's studying her face like he's trying to solve a puzzle.
"David says you've been with us for two months," Ryan says. His voice is exactly like she remembers. Deep. Confident. Carrying the weight of someone used to being right about everything.
"Yes," Sophie says. Her voice is barely a whisper.
"But I don't remember meeting you before," Ryan says. He's closer now. Close enough that she can smell his cologne. Close enough that she could reach out and touch him if she wanted to.
She doesn't want to.
Or she does. She can't tell anymore.
"I've mostly been working in the command center," Sophie says. "Analyzing files. Preparing reports."
Ryan nods slowly. He's still looking at her like she's familiar. Like he's trying to place her.
"Well, Sophie Winters," he says. "I have a supply chain that's falling apart. I have competitors stealing from me. I have people inside my own company trying to destroy me. David says you're brilliant enough to fix it. Are you?"
Sophie meets his eyes.
She thinks about her basement room. She thinks about Murphy's Diner. She thinks about the person she's become in six months of nothing.
"Yes," she says. "I can fix it."
Ryan smiles slightly.
"Then let's get to work," he says.
He holds out his hand to shake hers.
Sophie takes it.
The moment their skin touches, recognition flashes across his face. Like muscle memory. Like his body remembers her even if his mind doesn't.
He holds her hand a moment too long.
"Have we met before?" he asks quietly.
And Sophie has exactly three seconds to decide what to say next.
She could tell him the truth. She could tell him everything right now and end this nightmare before it starts.
Or she could lie.
She lies.
"No," Sophie says. "Never."
Ryan doesn't look convinced but he lets go of her hand anyway.
"Then welcome to Ashford Industries, Sophie," he says.
He walks back to his desk and starts opening files like nothing happened.
But Sophie can see his jaw is tight. She can see his hands aren't quite steady as he shuffles papers. She can see that some part of him knows she's lying.
And that terrifies her more than anything else could.
Because if Ryan figures out who she is before she's ready, everything falls apart.
Everything.