Her Divorce, His Downfall (Sophia and Damian) novel Chapter 158

Chapter 158

Isabelle’s familiar, dejected voice drifted out. “Mom, what am I gonna do? Once I’m out of here, Dad’s gonna force me into blind dates and marry me off out of state. I don’t know what to do.”

Rhea’s gaze softened with pity as she looked at her daughter’s gaunt face.

“At this point, your only option is to beg Damian for help. This is your own fault, you know–you went after your sister too aggressively and got caught red–handed. You’re too impulsive to pull off anything meaningful.”

Went after her sister?

That could only mean Sophia, his wife.

What was she saying? Had Isabelle hurt Sophia somehow?

Damian froze in the doorway, his heart lurching into his throat, Instead of bursting in to demand answers, he bit back his suspicion and listened quietly, every muscle coiled with tension.

Isabelle whined, her face twisting with resentment, “I was being as careful as I could! How was I supposed to know Mr. Julian Hall would find proof like that?

They showed up and beat me up, and that woman even

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my dog! I never did anything to her–why does she get to hurt my pet just to avenge Sophia? Ah! It pisses me off!”

Panic and rage sharpened her tone as she grabbed Rhea’s arm, sobbing.

“Now Dad’s completely disappointed in me. He’s gonna marry me off and kick me out of New York! Mom, I can’t leave—please, help me!”

Rhea patted her hand gently, her voice low and soothing. “Enough, stop crying. Just hide out here in the hospital for treatment a little longer; we’ll figure something out.

“Don’t panic just yet. It’s not the time to be scared.”

She paused, her expression hardening as she lowered her voice

even more.

“I thought once you’d gotten rid of Sophia, being Aaron’s goddaughter and looking somewhat like her would work in your favor. You could’ve comforted Damian while he was broken, and eventually he would’ve fallen for you and accepted you.”

“But no…” A note of frustration laced her words, “Even with Sophia gone without a trace, Damian’s been a complete mess.

“He drinks himself into oblivion every single day, and all he ever thinks or talks about is that dead woman.

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“I see now–we underestimated how much he loved her. That marriage became his obsession, his whole world.”

Isabelle’s face drained of color, her lips trembling as she struggled to speak.

Rhea squeezed her hand tightly, relief washing over her as she spoke.

“You should be thankful Damian was unconscious and badly hurt when Mr. Julian Hall showed up with all that evidence. If he’d found out the truth right then and there, you would’ve been

finished.

“That fire–you contacted Blake and planned the whole thing. You stood there watching it spread, then faked passing out so he’d save you first and waste the only chance he had to rescue Sophia.

“If he ever learns the truth, with how fixated he is on Sophia now, and the rage of being played for a fool… Isabelle, I swear he’ll lose his mind.”

Every fiber of Damian’s being went cold. His hands tightened into white–knuckled fists, nails biting deep into his own flesh until blood welled in his palms, while his eyes burned with a raw, crimson rage.

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Images of that terrible night crashed back into his mind–his promise to Aaron, the choice that had cost him his wife.

Rage and bone–deep regret tore through him, leaving a hollow, searing pain in his chest that stole his breath.

At that moment, he hated Isabelle for her cruelty and deception, and hated himself for being blind enough to let it all happen. He’d lost the woman he loved because of her lies.

How dare she manipulate him like this?

Inside the room, Isabelle’s hand jerked violently. The glass in her grasp crashed to the floor, shattering into sharp shards and spilling water across the tiles.

Real terror finally sank in. Her heart hammered, and cold sweat soaked through her hospital gown.

Before she could recover, a deafening crash split the air. Damian kicked the door open, a storm of murderous rage radiating from him, his presence so heavy it made the air feel thick and suffocating.

“You vicious bitch! You plotted with Blake to kill my wife!”

Before the words had fully left his mouth, his hand clamped around her throat like iron. He squeezed harder, lifting her off

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He stood over her, a shadow of grim finality, his eyes smoldering with lethal intent.

His voice came out in a low snarl. “Who gave you the nerve to play me? You’re fucking digging your own grave!”