Her Divorce, His Downfall (Sophia and Damian) novel Chapter 102

Chapter 102

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But upon closer reflection, calm slowly returned, along with her rationality.

No, it’s impossible.

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If it were really Sophia, the first thing she would do upon returning would be to tear apart the sister who had put her in harm’s way time and again.

Moreover, Damian had abandoned her repeatedly to save Isabelle.

Given Sophia’s fiery spirit, she would surely hate him to the core.

It made no sense for her to sit so docilely and close to him, speaking so peacefully 2:22

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certainly wouldn’t help someone else reap the benefits.

If this substitute, who had popped up out of nowhere, were to easily steal Damian away, she feared she might vomit blood in sheer rage.

After all, that night she had decisively called off her engagement to Connor, staking everything on this gamble.

She couldn’t end up gaining nothing.

She would never swallow that.

With this realization, Isabelle had no choice but to lower her guard and tuck away her petty temper.

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“Damian was heartbroken. For months, he held onto her photo, suffering insomnia night after night. Tell me,

doesn’t that prove how much he loved my sister?”

Realization dawned on Olivia.

So that is it!

She was merely benefiting from having a

face that resembled the late wife.

There was no such thing as a free lunch.

Why would someone at the pinnacle of the social pyramid lower himself to coax her?

turned out he was just using her skin as

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She assumed the girl was too ashamed to speak.

“Why so quiet?” A cold snort escaped Isabelle’s nose.

Picking up her wine glass, she shot a sidelong glance full of scorn and taunted, “Judging by the look of you, you’re one of the hostesses here, paid to drink and keep guests happy, right?”

She paused intentionally, watching with glee as Olivia’s whole body tensed up, eager to make things difficult.

“If you’re a hostess, don’t just sit there.

“Come on, sit here.”

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But tonight, he had a new love. Would he still care for the old flame?

Snickering looks circulated, the air thick with anticipation of drama.

Is that all she’s got?

A strong sense of indignation surged

within Isabelle.

What kind of trash was this!

She had managed to kill off the real Sophia, let alone some fake!

She had the pendant to protect her; no matter how she acted, Damian wouldn’t do anything to her.

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He was calmly swirling his glass of amber liquid, his expression inscrutable.

She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but clearly, he had no intention of stopping this.

Looking at the others, who were all enjoying the show like spectators at a theater, Olivia understood.

She was nothing more than a plaything for these rich boys to amuse themselves with.

They belonged to the same circle.

If she weren’t working here, she would never have met, let alone known, people like them.

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and self–esteem wasn’t worth much

anyway.

It was better to swallow her pride, drink a few extra glasses, take the money, and buy some nice food for dinner.

With this realization, the lump in Olivia’s

throat dissolved.

She sniffled, stood up on trembling legs,

and walked over to sit next to Isabelle.

Gritting her teeth, she asked, “How much per glass?”

Isabelle had intended to humiliate Olivia, hoping she would realize the difficulty and run off crying.

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