Her Divorce, His Downfall (Sophia and Damian) novel Chapter 138

Chapter 138

No sooner had the statement hung in the air than Isabelle lunged for the manila envelope, collapsing over it in a desperate attempt to shield its contents.

Her face was sheet–white, tears cutting tracks through her makeup. Fear pitched her voice into a reedy, frantic register.

“None of this is real! It’s all fabricated! Mr. Hall, someone is setting me up! If this is something Sophia left… it proves nothing.

“She resented me for snatching Damian from her—she’d invent anything to destroy me!”

Her attention then jerked upward, locking onto Sophia with a look of raw accusation. Confusion and dread hardened into a chilling question.

“Who are you? Why do you have my sister’s face?” Isabelle’s words were taut, uneasy,

A calm, almost eerie stillness settled over Sophia. She allowed a faint, detached smile–one that didn’t touch her eyes.

“There are plenty of look–alikes in this world, right?

Vivian Fitzgerald, Mr. Hall’s fiancée. From Los Angeles 3:07

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< Chapter 138

You should come visit sometime.”

Los Angeles… The Fitzgeralds.

The name triggered a jarring recall–Garrett, the man who’d helped Sophia at the hospital. Was this woman tied to him?

The thought surfaced, sharp and troubling, but survival instincts pushed it aside. Right now, all that mattered was weathering the

storm.

Isabelle held the envelope in a death grip, arms wrapped tightly as though it were the last solid thing in the room.

Nearby, Sophia tilted her head toward Julian, her expression quietly triumphant, as if she was saying, “I told you she’d fight dirty.”

Julian caught the subtext in her words. The disgust he’d felt just moments before, when she’d clung to his trouser leg, was instantly washed away by a new wave of anger.

Paying no further mind to Isabelle’s sobbing, he turned instead to Michael and Rhea with a gaze like polished ice.

“Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, your failure as parents has brought us here–a daughter who would kill her own sister.

Dlais is your last chance: handle her yourselves, or I vill hang!le7

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< Chapter 138

her for you.”

Jeffrey’s voice entered coolly from the side. “If sentiment stays your hand, we can take care of it.”

A slight gesture summoned several broad–shouldered security personnel.

“Escort Ms. Isabelle Anderson to the garden pool. See that she… clears her head. Politely.”

Isabelle’s protests turned into sharp, animal cries as two guards lifted her effortlessly from the floor.

“No! Let me go! Let me go!”

She kicked wildly, one heel flying off, but their hold was firm, impersonal.

They carried her out like an unruly parcel, her screams fading toward the garden.

“Isabelle–oh, Isabelle!” Rhea wept, turning on Michael.

“Do something! They’re taking her!”

Humiliation and rage burned in Michael’s throat.

glow could Jeffrey treat him like this—after everythin? Weren’t

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they family once?

He strode toward the hall, yelling for backup.

“Frank! Frank, get in here! They have Isabelle!”

Arthur intercepted him, wearing a thin, derisive smile. “Don’t bother. Your team is… indisposed. Resting comfortably in the lounge.”

“What is this?” Michael demanded, breath coming hard.

Arthur’s composure finally broke. “What is this? You had a kind wife, a brilliant daughter, and you traded it for an affair.

“Now the child from that betrayal has murdered Sophia, and you still shield her? Did Aunt Elaine and Sophia mean nothing to you at all?”

Michael roared, his eyes bloodshot, rage boiling over, “Enough! Don’t you dare judge me! Elaine cheated first! Your ‘perfect‘ Elaine was unfaithful long before I ever strayed!”

Silence descended–heavy, absolute, ringing in the sudden stillness like a struck bell.