Her Divorce, His Downfall (Sophia and Damian) novel Chapter 110

Chapter 110

Isabelle knew it the moment she left her

house–today was cursed.

Every ounce of luck had deserted her.

In Sebastian’s arms, her face burned hotter with each passing second. As he watched the blush creep across her skin, his own expression darkened with desire.

Leaning close, his breath a hot whisper against her ear, he rasped, “Well? Made up your mind? Feel like spending the night with me, little princess?”

“You’re insane! Get off me, you creep!”

Isabelle spat, unable to stomach hiş

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provimity ony longon

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Before Sebastian could react, his crew erupted.

One of them snatched a napkin and wiped the spittle from his leader’s face, snarling.

“Watch your mouth. One more word against the boss, and we’ll ship you off to a cartel compound in Mexico. They’re always in need of fresh… inventory for their operating tables.”

Another voice chimed in, cold and calculating, “Sebastian, we should just do it. Dump her over there. No one’s paying her any attention, she’s drunk off her ass… we could stage a drowning, make it look like she fell in the river. By the time the Andersons start looking, their precious daughter will be long gone, sold30

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off in

exico.”

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“She’s cheated in every race, screwed over half our crew. Always hiding behind Mr. Hall’s coattails, acting like she owned

the track. Well, Mr. Hall’s done with her

now. Perfect time to settle her debts. The cartels pay top dollar for pretty little things like her.”

Their words spiraled into darker, more grotesque details.

A frozen dread seized Isabelle, locking her lungs and turning her blood

to ice. Tremors wracked her body uncontrollably.

Seeing her utterly terrified, practically shrinking into herself, Sebastian gave a 2:30

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His men, though clearly itching for more, respected his authority enough to scatter, melting back into the club’s shadows.

Soon, the dimly lit booth held only the two of them.

Sebastian’s grip tightened on her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

His breath washed over her face as he

offered a smile devoid of warmth.

“Welcome to hell,” he murmured.

The words slammed into her.

He is serious?

He was actually going to send her to 12:30

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er 110

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Mexico?

No. Impossible.

Her life–the parties, her doting parents, her youth in New York City–it couldn’t end like this.

Horrific images from police safety briefings flooded her mind: tales of people trapped in scam compounds, tortured for failing to meet quotas, subjected to electric shocks, beatings, violations, water dungeons… and worse.

violent shiver coursed through her.

Sebastian’s smile widened at her palpable

fear.

5/12

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He crushed her against the leather couch.

His mouth descended on the sensitive skin of her neck with a feral, devouring hunger.

Isabelle screamed, a raw sound of panic, and began to struggle in earnest.

Fighting against his weight, her fingers finally closed around the phone hidden in her inner pocket.

With frantic, clumsy movements, she hit the speed dial for her emergency contact.

The line rang, then connected.

“Isabelle, what now?” Damian’s voice was thick with weary impatience.

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“Damian,” she sobbed, tears streaming down her face, her words fragmented by

fear.

“Platinum Palace… someone’s attacking me… please, Damian, you have to come!”

“Weston and Lucas are at Platinum

Palace. Nothing could happen there. You’ve got to come up with better lies,” he retorted, the sound of him rubbing his temples almost audible over the line.

“No! I’m not lying!” Her voice rose to a desperate plea. “Damian, please, I’m begging you…”

A cold, dismissive scoff cut her off.

“Haven’t you done enough, Isabelle?

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“You know Olivia’s allergic. I’m at the hospital with her while she’s on an IV.

“Could you at least pick a better time for your games?

“I don’t have time for this. Goodbye.”

The dial tone buzzed in her ear, a sound of finality more chilling than any threat.

Her heart seized, a profound cold spreading through her limbs.

The phone was ripped from her slackened grip and tossed aside.

All fight drained from her. Her eyes, vacant and hopeless, fluttered shut.

8/12

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XXXXX *

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Back at the hospital, Damian stared at his now–silent phone.

A vague, unsettled feeling coiled in his

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