Her Divorce, His Downfall (Sophia and Damian) novel Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Isabelle was notorious in their circle–spoiled, uneducated, and moody as hell.

as

Any man who married that hellion? That was a one–way ticket to misery.

With her wild, reckless attitude, the Halls would never accept trash like her as a daughter–in–law.

Who knew what the hell had gotten into Damian to make him act like this.

What a family disgrace!

Damian’s voice cut through, ice–cold.

“Dad, she’s not trash. Her name is Isabelle. Show some respect.”

Daniel’s chest heaved with rage, and he was about to lash out again.

But Isabelle suddenly rushed to Sophia’s side, grabbing her sleeve and sobbing dramatically,

“Sophia, I know you hate me. You can hit me however you want.

“But don’t hurt Damian. Everyone knows he loves you most. Please–beg Madam Hall to go easy on him.”

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Sophia’s stomach churned with nausea.

She stared a irony.

that sweet, bright face and felt nothing but bitter

Her “dear sister” always knew exactly when to play the victim, using that helpless act to drag Sophia through the dirt.

And her husband? He’d turn his back on his entire family for Isabelle.

What a beautiful “love story.”

Sophia bit her lip. Her heart was bleeding, but she maintained a mask of calm.

This time, she’d be the one to tear them apart.

She slowly pulled her sleeve free, her voice icy.

“Sorry. Family orders aren’t up for debate.”

With that, she raised her arm, and the long whip whistled through the air, aimed squarely at Damian’s back.

“No!” Isabelle screamed,

She threw herself forward, arms spread wide, shielding Damian with her body.

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In a flash, Damian bark with

In a flash, Damian spun around, pulling Isabelle into a tight embrace. He took the full force of the blow on his own back.

Crack!

The sharp, sickening sound of leather hitting flesh echoed it

the living room.

That strike carried every ounce of Sophia’s hurt and rage. It landed hard.

His white shirt tore open. A line of blood bloomed across his back, stark and brutal.

Dead silence. Everyone froze, stunned.

Damian’s body trembled. He let out a low grunt but held Isabelle even tighter.

He looked down at her, voice low.

“Who told you to come here? You shouldn’t be here.”

His words were scolding. But the way he held her–like she was the only thing that mattered–drove a knife straight through Sophia’s heart.

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She finally understood. The person he wanted to protect most was never her.

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Isabelle cowered in his arms, trembling and sobbing.

Sophia stared at the fresh whip mark across Damian’s back- wound he’d taken for another woman.

Her blood turned to ice. The whip shook in her grip.

“Ford, get Ms. Isabelle Anderson off him.” Eleanor’s voice cracked with fury, her eyes on Sophia’s broken expression.

Ford gestured to two burly guards. They stepped forward and politely but firmly pried Isabelle from Damian’s arms.

“Damian! Damian!”

Isabelle screamed and thrashed, but the guards held her tight.

Damian’s brow furrowed. He instinctively reached for her–then winced as pain flared across his back.

Before he could react, Isabelle was dragged away.

Eleanor hobbled forward on her cane, stopping in front of

Isabelle, Her voice was ice.

“Ms. Isabelle Anderson, the Hall Residence isn’t your playground. This is our family business–since when do outsiders get a say?”

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The word “outsiders” hit like a slap. Isabelle’s face went white.

Eleanor turned away from her, looking at Sophia with gentle

eyes.

“Sophia, family law is clear–ten lashes. Not one less. Keep going.”

Sophia saw the worry in Damian’s eyes as he looked at Isabelle. The whip in her hand felt white–hot, almost too scalding to hold.

Her eyes burned red as she glared at Damian–like she wanted to rip him apart.

How dare they? How dare they put on this lovey–dovey show right in front of her?

Did they think she was invisible?

Damian seemed to sense her gaze. He turned, their eyes locking.

The concern vanished instantly, replaced by cold contempt. He turned his back to her.

“Go ahead. Hit me. Just don’t be mad at Isabelle anymore. None of this is her fault.”

His words sent pain radiating through Isabelle’s body like

poison.

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She bit her lip hard, tasting blood, barely managing to stay

upright–clinging to the last shred of dignity she had left as Mrs.

Hall.

He’d rather take extra lashes than let Isabelle get hurt. He couldn’t bear to see his first love suffer even a scratch. first love suffer even a scratch.

Fine. If they were so “deeply in love,” she’d give them what they wanted.

CRACK!

The second strike came down hard, landing precisely on the same bloody welt.

The sound of skin splitting made everyone flinch.

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