Chapter 12

The fluorescent lights in the operating room stung her eyes.

Sophia lay on the cold surgical table, her fingers unconsciously gripping the sheets beneath her. The moment the doctor picked up the instrument, she suddenly sat up.

"I'm not doing this."

Her voice was soft but firm.

Sunlight streamed through the hospital doors as she stepped outside. Sophia looked down at her flat stomach, where a tiny life was growing. The doctor had said her body was special—this pregnancy was nothing short of a miracle.

"Baby..." she murmured, a gentle smile touching her lips.

This child had nothing to do with Ethan Roscente. She would never let him know.

The next morning, Sophia arrived at HR right on time. The resignation process went smoothly—she didn’t give Ethan a single chance to interfere.

"Sophia, you're really leaving?" a colleague asked in surprise.

She only smiled, carrying a cardboard box as she walked away without looking back.

Inside were a few notebooks and a small potted plant. At the building’s entrance, she tossed them into the trash without hesitation.

Packing was quick. Standing in the empty apartment, she scooped up the calico cat curled on the sofa.

"Let's go."

As the plane took off, she cast one last glance at the city’s skyline. No longing—only relief.

The atmosphere in the boardroom turned icy.

Ethan stared at his phone, his knuckles whitening. The HR notification glared back at him: Sophia Lowell has resigned.

"Continue," he said coldly, flipping the phone face-down.

The meeting dragged on. Ethan checked his watch repeatedly, his attention slipping during presentations. The moment it ended, he stood and left without delay.

"Send Sophia to my office," he ordered, his voice low as he passed her vacant desk.

The new assistant trembled. "She resigned this morning..."

"Who approved it?" His gaze sharpened.

"Interns... can leave anytime..." The assistant’s voice faded.

The office air thickened. Ethan stared at Sophia’s spotless workstation—as if she had never existed.

It hit him then.

This wasn’t a game.

She was really gone.