Chapter 230

Chapter 230
Sophia

I stared at my phone, watching Blake's name flash across the screen as the call went to voicemail. Again. The third fucking time tonight.

I glanced at the clock: 12:17 AM. That made it around 5:17 AM in London. Either Blake was already up and ignoring me, or he was sleeping through my calls.

"Damn it, Blake," I muttered, tossing my phone onto the bed.

The memory of our video call two days ago made my blood boil all over again. Blake had been in some hotel restaurant, his tie loosened, glass of whiskey in hand. And there she was—Liora—leaning into the frame, her manicured hand on his shoulder.

"Say hello to your wife, Blake," she'd purred in that lilting accent. "She must be so lonely all the way in New York with the children."

The condescension in her voice had been unmistakable. But what had hurt more was how Blake had barely reacted, just shifted slightly in his seat without asking her to leave or even acknowledging how inappropriate her behavior was.

"We're in the middle of something important, Soph," he'd said, glancing away from the camera. "Can we talk tomorrow? Liora and I need to finish these projections for the morning meeting."

"It's Jasper's appointment tomorrow," I'd reminded him, trying to keep my voice steady while Liora hovered in the background, sipping her drink with a smirk.

"Right, right. Just text me how it goes. I'm sure it'll be fine."

Then Liora had leaned in again: "Don't worry, Sophia, I'll make sure he doesn't work too hard." With a wink that made my stomach turn.

The house was finally quiet after getting the kids to sleep. Jasper had been fussy all evening, probably sensing my anxiety after our visit to Dr. Robinson. The doctor's words kept replaying in my mind: "We should do tests in the next two weeks, but honestly, Mrs. Sterling, Jasper's still too agitated. We might need to observe him for another month before we can get accurate readings."

Another month of uncertainty. Another month of watching my baby's tiny chest rise and fall, wondering if each breath might be his last. Another fucking month of lying awake at night while my husband was halfway across the world, probably enjoying expensive whiskey with that stick-thin Liora bitch.

A soft knock pulled me from my thoughts. Elizabeth stood in the doorway, her silver-streaked hair in a loose bun.

"The kids are all asleep," she said. "Even Emma finally put down that book and drifted off."

"Thank you," I sighed. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Elizabeth sat beside me on the bed. "Lauren called. She wants you to meet her for a drink."

I shook my head. "I can't leave the kids."

"Yes, you can," Elizabeth said firmly. "I'm here. I'll stay with them. I'll camp out in the hallway between their rooms if I need to."

"But what if Jasper—"

"If anything happens, which it won't, I'll call you immediately." She took my hand. "Sophia, you've been cooped up in this apartment for days. You need to breathe some air that doesn't smell like baby formula and anxiety."

I almost laughed at how accurate that description was. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. Go. Have a drink. Complain about your husband with your friends. It's practically a constitutional right."

An hour later, I was sliding into a booth at The Copper Room, a dimly lit bar in Tribeca. Lauren waved enthusiastically when she saw me, her short black hair with its red streak bouncing.

"Oh my God, she lives!" Lauren exclaimed, pulling me into a hug. "I was beginning to think you'd been absorbed into the Sterling penthouse forever."

"I almost was," I admitted. "If Elizabeth hadn't practically pushed me out the door—"

"Then I'll be sending her flowers tomorrow," Lauren grinned, sliding a martini toward me. "Dirty, extra olives, just how you like it."

"You're a lifesaver," I said, taking a grateful sip.

"Hope you don't mind, but I invited Mia too," Lauren added. "She texted me having a meltdown about Mateo. Again."

As if on cue, Mia appeared, her eyes rimmed with smudged mascara. My younger sister slid into the booth beside me, immediately reaching for my martini and taking a large gulp.

"Hey! Get your own!" I protested, but there was no heat in it. Mia looked like she needed it more than I did.

"So what happened with that video call you mentioned?" Lauren asked after the server had taken Mia's order. "You sounded ready to commit murder over text."

I clenched my jaw, the humiliation washing over me again. "Blake was at some business dinner with Liora—you know, that bitch I told you about? She practically draped herself over him during our entire call."

"No," Lauren gasped, properly scandalized.

"Oh yes. And the worst part? Blake didn't do a damn thing about it. Just sat there while she made these little comments about how she's 'taking good care' of him in London."

"What a bitch," Mia muttered, accepting her newly arrived cocktail. "And what an ass Blake is for allowing it."

"Men," Lauren said, rolling her eyes. "They're never there when you actually need them."

"Preach," Mia agreed. "That's why I'm seriously considering becoming a nun. Or a lesbian. Are there lesbian nuns?"

I laughed despite myself. "What happened with Mateo this time?"

"What didn't happen?" Mia groaned. "We had another fight about his mother constantly calling during our date nights. Then he had the nerve to say I was being 'culturally insensitive' because I don't understand 'family obligations.'"

"You know what I think?" Lauren said, leaning forward. "I think men are like parking spots. All the good ones are taken, and the available ones are either too small or too far from where you want to be."

We all laughed, and for a moment, I felt the tension lifting from my shoulders.

"Speaking of men," Lauren continued, "Leon took me to dinner last week at that new place in SoHo. It was amazing. Then he just... disappeared. No texts, no calls."

"Leon?" I asked, feeling a strange flutter in my stomach. During my "freedom week" after Blake and I had fought, Leon had definitely been flirting with me. There had been a moment where I'd felt something flutter in response. Nothing had happened, of course, and I'd never told Lauren about it.

"Yeah," Lauren sighed. "I thought we had a connection. The conversation was great, the chemistry was there. Then—poof!—ghosted."

"Men are trash," Mia declared, raising her glass. "Present company's husbands included. No offense, Soph."

"Plenty taken," I said, but I couldn't entirely disagree, not when Blake was letting Liora hang all over him while our son needed medical tests.

Lauren's phone buzzed. "Nothing from Leon, but my boss wants me in early tomorrow for some crisis meeting."

The conversation flowed easily after that. Mia vented about how she and Mateo seemed to do nothing but fight anymore.

"I think I'm just afraid of being alone," she admitted after her second drink. "Which is pathetic, I know."

"It's not pathetic," I assured her. "It's human."

"Blake says she's brilliant and could teach me a lot about international finance." I couldn't keep the resentment from my voice. "Because apparently having his wife's back isn't as important as having some blonde bimbo's 'expertise' at his disposal."

"Oh, I'm sure she'd love to teach you things," Mia slurred. "Like how to back the hell away from her new target."

"You think she's targeting Blake?" I asked, hating how insecure I sounded.

"Please," Mia snorted. "That woman is looking at him like he's a chocolate lava cake and she's been on a diet for years."

Lauren studied the photo. "Has she been undermining you professionally? You know, making little comments about your work?"

"All the time," I admitted. "During our video call, she actually had the nerve to say, 'It must be hard for Blake to have a partner who's so... occupied with domestic matters.' Like I'm some 1950s housewife with no brain, not a financial analyst who temporarily stepped back to care for our children."

"Classic move," Lauren nodded. "She's trying to make you look incompetent in your own field. It's like Female Competition 101."

"Well, she can try all she wants," I said, straightening up. " I am going to London next month, and I'll be dealing with Ms. Liora face-to-face then."

"Atta girl," Lauren raised her glass. "Show her who's boss."

We clinked glasses, and I tried to feel as confident as I sounded. But as the night wore on and Blake still hadn't returned my calls, I couldn't help wondering if Liora was with him right now, in London, taking advantage of my absence.