Her Divorce, His Downfall (Sophia and Damian) novel Chapter 152

Chapter 152

Weston paused, pressing his intertwined hands together until his knuckles cracked. The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees.

“Bad things keep happening one after another. It’s no longer just bad luck. This feels orchestrated. Like someone wrote the script,” he said, his voice low.

Lucas looked up, his expression turning serious. “Someone with a grudge against Damian? Using a honey trap to take him down?”

Damian opened his eyes. In his icy depths, a storm brewed, chillingly reminiscent of his uncle Julian’s famed stare.

A self–mocking smile touched his lips. “If I had to guess, it would be my Uncle Julian.”

Weston tensed, his eyes widening slightly. “Julian? Your own uncle? He’d scheme against you?”

“Julian. My own uncle, And yes, he’d scheme,” Damian said.

He let out a chuckle, his face darkening.

“I had Liam check his travel logs. Right before the warehouse ffé, he filed a flight plan. Slipped back into the States from

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Northern Europe in secret. The timing was perfect.”

“A secret return?” Lucas sounded stunned. “Even the Halls

didn’t know?”

Ignoring the question, Damian pushed on through the pain.

“Liam managed to pull footage from a security camera on that quiet road behind the warehouse. The image was grainy, but the license plate was clear. NY–888.”

“That plate belongs to Madam Hall’s…” Weston trailed off, a flicker of doubt in his eyes.

Everyone knew the story. The Bentley was Madam Hall’s favorite, a gift to her youngest son Julian years ago. It had been the talk of their circles, a symbol of her favor.

Damian said, his jaw tight with suppressed anger, “Grandma gave it to him.

“Uncle Julian was the one who rescued Sophia. Gave her a new identity, hid her away, and then sent her back as ‘Vivian‘ to get her revenge on me,”

He stopped, a shadow of old pain crossing his features.

“Sophia and I grew up together. When we were kids, I was a brat. I’d tease her until she cried, and it was always Ule Julian

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who comforted her.

“He had a way of making her smile again. Back then, I was just glad he was there. I never knew how to handle that crying girl.”

His voice dropped, tinged with regret.

“I always thought he was just being kind. Looking out for her, for my parents‘ sake and our families‘ connection. But that night at the welcome party…”

Damian’s gaze snapped back to Weston and Lucas, his eyes blazing.

“Seeing her standing beside him as ‘Vivian,‘ watching her look at him with a sense of ease… a trust I hadn’t seen in years. Seeing how he doted on her. That’s when the penny dropped.”

He drew a shaky breath, wiping cold sweat from his brow, then let out a low, mirthless laugh.

“Turns out my dear uncle has feelings for my wife. He played the long game. He hid it so well that he convinced her to go along with this whole charade. He even got her to agree to marry him.”

The last words were ground out between clenched teeth, “Julian. What a piece of work.”

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Silence settled heavily in the hospital room.

Weston’s face was grave. He knew Julian. The man appeared gentle and refined, busy with his ventures in Northern Europe, yet he held a position of quiet, formidable power within the Hall family.

Madam Hall and Bruce doted on him. Beneath that composed exterior was a strategic mind not to be underestimated.

His secret return and this elaborate plot weren’t just about helping Sophia settle a score. He was aiming for something bigger.

Lucas, too, grasped the gravity of the situation. This feud ran deeper than a woman.

“Damian, Julian comes back and steals your woman. You really think he isn’t gunning for the Hall family?” Lucas asked bluntly.

“He’s testing you. What’s your move?”

A fierce determination hardened Damian’s features.

Gripping the bed, he forced himself upright, his gaze sharp and lethal as it swept over his friends. “We meet him head–on. Turn his own game against him.

Ne one is taking my wife from me. She belongs with

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Anyone who tries will regret it.”

His mind flashed back to France, to their university days. Back then, Sophia only had eyes for Connor. The world saw them as the perfect couple.

So what?

Damian had become a constant, almost inescapable presence in her life–like a shadow that stubbornly refused to fade.

He would turn up unannounced at the overseas estate where Sophia lived under Julian’s guardianship, a place she couldn’t rightfully deny him.

After all, he was family–Julian’s nephew.

Still, she’d shoot him icy glares, muttering under her breath about pests and telling him to leave her alone.

However, Damian had loved that fiery spark in her eyes. Even her insults were a delight.

He remembered one afternoon in the library. They’d both spotted the last empty seat and dove for it simultaneously. Neither would back down.

Left with no other choice, they had to share. Squeezed onto the single chair. Legs pressed tight against legs. Shoulder touching:

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Watching her angrily flip through her notes, he’d smiled to himself.

Damian had shifted his weight, subtly edging her off balance. With a small gasp, Sophia started to topple sideways.

In an instant, his hand shot out, wrapping around her wrist. He pulled her back sharply, and she landed awkwardly in his lap, her back pressed flush against his chest.

The clean scent of his soap mixed with the warmth of his body, and she felt her face grow hot.

“Damian! You meant that!” Sophia flustered.