Her Divorce, His Downfall (Sophia and Damian) novel Chapter 144

Chapter 144

Sophia’s eyes glinted with ruthless determination as she strode forward, seized Buck’s neck, and yanked the leash taut. Without a moment’s hesitation, she drove a dagger deep into the dog’s body.

Buck whimpered in pain, thrashing desperately, but several wooden rods pressed down hard on it from above, pinning it helplessly in place.

In the next instant, Sophia pulled the blade free. Blood sprayed across her face, spreading like a grotesque, blooming flower, lending her features an eerily savage allure.

Before Isabelle could even cry out, Sophia plunged the dagger into Buck’s body again and again–each strike swift, precise, and utterly remorseless–until the dog lay completely lifeless. Only then did she rise to her feet.

She had despised this dog for a very long time,

Sophia would never forget that evening after the dinner at Anderson Manor, watching Isabelle and Damian play happily with the dog in the sunset glow, her own heart shattering.

Nor would she forget the time Damian ordered her locked in the confinement room, where Isabelle killed Snowball–the kitten her mother had given her–and left the body there for ner to

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find. She had collapsed in tears at the sight. Each memory, every detail, was etched in her mind.

With a sharp clatter, Sophia tossed the dagger to the ground and flashed Isabelle a taunting, vicious smile, her lips curled in mockery.

“Well? Does it ring a bell now, Ms. Isabelle Anderson?”

‘Ah! Buck–my Buck!”

A moment later, Isabelle’s face turned deathly pale, tears flooding her eyes.

Beside her, Michael and Rhea stood frozen, their expressions ashen.

Buck had been Isabelle’s companion since childhood. It was a gift from Michael when she first arrived at Anderson Manor.

It had brought her so much joy; she had raised it from a tiny puppy, and it had become an inseparable part of her life.

Now, her beloved dog lay dead before her, slaughtered by this woman who wore Sophia’s face, without even a chance to let out more than a few whimpers,

Why… Why?

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This woman was supposed to be a heiress of the Fitzgerald family. Why did she hate Isabelle so much?

Isabelle couldn’t understand.

Pushing away Rhea’s supporting arm, she dragged her weakened body forward and collapsed over Buck’s corpse, weeping bitterly.

“Are you some kind of devil? Why won’t you even spare a pet? What did my dog ever do to you?”

Sophia’s gaze remained icy, utterly unmoved by Isabelle’s breakdown. “And what did Ms. Sophia Anderson’s cat do?

“How does it feel? To lose something you love so dearly?”

“Get away! Just get away from me!” Isabelle clung to Buck, weeping like a child, her chest aching as if a piece of her heart had been brutally carved out. Every breath carried a sharp, searing pain.

“Don’t cry just yet.” Arthur crouched beside her, letting out a low, chilling laugh, “There’ll be more to cry about soon.”

Isabelle’s heart raced wildly. Her eyes, red and swollen with tears, stared up in terror.

WWhat else are you going to do?”

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Arthur said nothing, only smiled, his gaze fixed on Isabelle with a sinister, ambiguous intensity.

Jeffrey clapped his hands lightly. An assistant waiting quietly nearby stepped forward respectfully, handing him a brown paper envelope.

A closer look confirmed it was the same file Julian had thrown at Michael earlier.

Jeffrey took it casually, his fingers tapping lightly on the envelope, his eyes flickering with bone–chilling intensity.

Under the tense, breathless watch of Michael and the others, he slowly opened it and pulled out a stack of documents.

With a flick of his wrist, he flung them into the air. Like a blizzard of paper, they showered down over Michael and the Rhea.

“Too scared to look?” Jeffrey glanced down dismissively, a sneer curling his lips. “Then let me help you. I’ve opened it up for you myself.”

He nudged a sheet lying at his feet with the tip of his shoe. On it was a clear, full–face shot of Isabelle sneaking into the psychiatric patient’s hospital room.

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Jeffrey’s gaze shifted sharply from the papers to Michael, his voice dripping with contempt.

“Michael, open your eyes wide and see exactly how your precious daughter plotted step–by–step to kill your other daughter. Look carefully–every single page.”

“No, no!” Isabelle stared at the documents fluttering down and panicked.

She lunged forward, scrambling to gather them up, muttering frantically, “Don’t look! No one is allowed to look!”

Jeffrey took a step closer, his shoe crushing down hard on Isabelle’s hand.

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