Chapter 51 Sanctuary
Elena: POV
I stood on the corner of Lexington and 67th, the October wind cutting through my coat like knives. My phone felt heavy in my hand as I scrolled to Sophia's name.
She's your only option right now. You can't go back to that penthouse. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.
My finger hovered over the call button. Part of me didn't want to burden her—Sophia had her own shit to deal with. But where else could I go?
I pressed dial.
"Elena?" Sophia answered on the first ring, her voice tight with concern.
"I need a place to stay." My voice came out flat. Dead. "Just for tonight. Can I come over?"
Silence stretched for three heartbeats.
"Of course," she said finally, and I heard rustling in the background. "I'll text you my new address. Get here safe, okay?"
The Uber ride to Sophia's Chelsea loft felt like an eternity. I stared out the window, watching the city blur past, my hand pressed protectively over my stomach.
Our baby. Just you and me now.
---
Sophia's building was one of those converted industrial spaces—all exposed brick and floor-to-ceiling windows. She buzzed me up immediately, and when I stepped off the elevator, she was already waiting at her door.
"Elena." She pulled me into a fierce hug before I could say anything. "Jesus Christ, you look exhausted."
I managed, attempting a weak smile. "I’m fine actually."
She ushered me inside. The loft was gorgeous—open plan, modern furniture, abstract art on the walls. But I barely registered any of it.
Sophia guided me to her oversized leather couch. "Sit. I'm getting you tea."
I sank into the cushions, exhaustion hitting me like a freight train. My body ached everywhere—from standing so long at the hospital, from the stress, from carrying this secret that was slowly destroying me.
Sophia returned with two steaming mugs—chamomile for me, green tea for herself. She handed me one, then settled beside me, and that's when I noticed.
Her neck. Dark purple marks dotting the pale skin above her collarbone, barely hidden by her loose sweater.
Fresh hickeys. A lot of them.
"So," I said, gesturing to her neck with my mug. "Looks like you've been busy. Got a new situation going on?"
Sophia's hand flew to her neck, her cheeks flushing. "It's nothing. Just—"
"Just what?" I leaned closer, grateful for the distraction from my own mess. "Come on, Soph. Those are definitely fresh. And there are a lot of them."
She rolled her eyes, but I caught the flicker of something in her expression. Pain, maybe. Or hurt.
"Fine." She tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear. "I've been seeing someone. Sort of. It's casual. Friends with benefits, you know? Keeps things simple."
Liar.
I'd known Sophia for fifteen years. I could read her better than anyone.
And right now, everything about her body language screamed that this was anything but casual or simple.
"Simple," I repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Right. Because hickeys like that definitely say 'casual hookup' and not 'someone marked you like you belong to them.'"
"Elena—"
My mind flashed back to the karaoke bar. To Lucas Reynolds dragging Sophia away, the possessive grip on her wrist, the way he'd looked at her like she was the only person in the room.
Oh.
"It's Lucas, isn't it?" I said quietly.
Sophia's entire body went rigid. For a second, I thought she might deny it. Then her shoulders sagged.
"No," she said, but her voice cracked. "It's not. We're done. We talked. We said everything we needed to say, and now it's over."
I studied her face—the too-bright eyes, the defensive set of her jaw, the way her hand kept drifting back to those marks on her neck.
"Sophia," I said gently. "You can't lie to me. I've known you too long."
"I'm not lying!" She stood abruptly, pacing to the window. "Lucas and I... we're not together. We can't be together. His family is gone, my family destroyed him—there's too much history, too much pain. So yeah, we're done."
But you're sleeping with him.
I didn't say it out loud. Didn't push.
Because God knows I had no room to judge anyone's complicated relationship situation.
Instead, I set down my mug and crossed to her, wrapping my arms around her from behind. "Okay. If you say you're done, then you're done."
She leaned back against me, and I felt her shoulders shake slightly. "Thank you for understanding, Elena."
Sophia turned in my arms, her dark eyes searching my face. "Did something happen with you? With Julian?"
And just like that, the weight of everything came crashing back.
---
We moved back to the couch. I pulled a blanket around my shoulders, suddenly cold despite the warm loft.
"His mother collapsed today," I said quietly. "At Bergdorf Goodman. Heart attack. And somehow, it's my fault."
Sophia's eyes widened. "What the fuck? How is that your fault?"
"Because we had an argument first. She slapped me, Soph. Right across the face. Called me trash, told me I wasn't good enough for her son.
And yeah, I snapped back. I said things I probably shouldn't have." I pressed my hand to my stomach. "And then she collapsed. And I did CPR. I saved her fucking life."
"Jesus," Sophia breathed.
"But Victoria was there. And she told everyone—Julian, the doctors—that she was the one who did CPR. That I was the one who caused the whole thing by screaming at Evelyn." My voice cracked. "And Julian believed her. Of course he believed her."
"That lying bitch—"
"It doesn't matter." I wiped at my eyes roughly. "None of it matters anymore. Because I told Julian I want a divorce. After his grandfather's birthday party, we're done."
Sophia was quiet for a long moment. Then she grabbed my hand, squeezing hard.
"Good," she said fiercely. "You deserve so much better than him. Than all of them."
God, I wanted to so badly.
But all I could think about was the baby growing inside me. Julian's baby. A child who would never know its father because I was too afraid to tell him.
"The baby," she said quietly as her expression softened. "You're worried about the baby."
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
"Elena, listen to me." She turned to face me fully. "You're going to be okay. You and this baby—you're going to be more than okay. And you don't need Julian Sterling to make that happen."
"But—"
"No buts." Her grip tightened. "When you divorce him, you need to take him for everything you can. For yourself, and for your baby."