Her Divorce, His Downfall (Sophia and Damian) novel Chapter 175

Chapter 175 Disarmed

Damian lunged forward before Sophia could drop the magazine. His right hand shot out and clamped down on the wrist that

beld the gun.

A quick twist of his wrist and her hand was forced palm–up. The gun flew free of her grip.

While she was still stunned, Damian pressed his left forearm against her collarbone and pinned her against the nightstand, shutting down her struggles.

His other hand plucked the pistol from her palm as casually as picking up a pen. The entire sequence was fluid, practiced, the kind of efficiency that came from years of training.

He wedged his knee against the crook of her legs, leaned down over her, and looked at her from above. The indulgence was gone from his voice. “Stop messing with this. It’s too dangerous for you.”

Sophia fought with everything she had but couldn’t break free. She wanted to bite his head off.

Her eyes were red and raw, her voice a ragged scream. “Damian, let me go! Give me back my gun! I’m going to kill you!”

The fury inside her was an inferno, threatening to swallow her.39

She hated that he owed her a life and could still stand there, cool as you please, and take her weapon away.

Most of all, she hated that she couldn’t even manage to kill

him herself. The combination of helplessness and loathing was crushing her.

Damian ignored her cursing. His long fingers worked the gun with easy precision.

He ejected the magazine one–handed, cleared every round, racked the slide, and made the weapon safe. The whole process was unhurried and controlled.

He tucked the empty gun into his suit jacket, then gently released Sophia’s wrist.

He turned her around so she was facing him.

Reading the defiance and hatred still burning in her eyes, he let out a weary sigh. When he spoke again, the tenderness had crept back in, though the finality in his tone left no room for

argument.

“I told you, this thing is dangerous. I can’t let you keep it. What if it misfires and you hurt yourself?”

2/6

11:39

Even when Sophia was trying to put a bullet in him, his first thought was still about her accidentally getting hurt by the gun.

That insane, irrational devotion, tangled with jealousy and guilt, was tearing him apart from the inside.

He didn’t even know what he had to do anymore to make her let down her guard.

Sophia stared at how effortlessly he’d disarmed her, furious and helpless in equal measure.

Her chest heaved with rage. The fire in her eyes was consuming, and yet there was nothing she could do about it.

She couldn’t beat him in a fight. Her gun jammed when she tried to shoot him. And she couldn’t wrestle it back.

Sophia fixed him with a glacial stare, her voice cutting to the bone.

“Damian, do I need your concern? What gives you the right to take something Julian gave me? Who do you think you are?”

That last question shattered whatever composure Damian had been faking.

Jealousy, rage, and a manic possessiveness crashed over him

ka tidal surge, drowning him completely.

11:39

That last sentence shattered his mask completely. He truly didn’t know what to do anymore.

He’d apologized. He’d gotten on his knees.

He’d explained everything. He’d admitted every wrong.

He knew she hated him, so he’d walked into her beating with the full expectation of dying, and he’d let her whale on him until he was half dead.

He’d bled for her, fought for her, done everything in his power to earn one more chance.

And her?

While he was unconscious in the hospital, she’d been playing house with another man. On his first day out, she’d kissed Julian right in front of him.

If she could just believe in him one more time. If she’d just turn around and come back to him, he would do anything. Anything at all.

But all Sophia talked about now, all she thought about, was another man. And she was dead set on killing him.

Watching her pull that trigger twice, he’d kept his face steady,

4/6

11:39

but inside, his heart had already gone cold.

His wife genuinely wanted him dead. She hadn’t been bluffing.

Maybe Sophia really didn’t love him anymore. Once that realization fully settled, his heart sank into a frozen lake and shattered into pieces too small to ever put back together.

Tonight, he hadn’t come here to do anything to her. He’d only wanted to explain the fake engagement with Isabelle and warn her to stay on guard.

But Sophia’s cold contempt, her mocking jabs, her ruthless attempt on his life, and above all, her devotion to Julian had pushed him past the breaking point.

Fuck! How could she be this heartless?

Did Sophia have any idea that his heart was made of flesh too? That being torn apart like this, over and over, was more pain than he could bear?

Damian surged forward. Ignoring the terror on Sophia’s face, he locked one arm around her waist and crushed her against him. with enough force to meld her into his bones,

“What are you doing?” Sophia’s face went pale. She shoved at him with everything she had.

5/6

11:39

Damian’s grip tightened, trapping her between his body and the nightstand, leaving her no room to escape.

Sophia’s body went rigid. Hatred and alarm warred inside her. She braced both palms against his chest and pushed.

But his other hand clamped down on the back of her head, holding her in place with an authority that left no room for protest.

He dipped his head. His breath, hot and ragged, grazed the sensitive skin beside her ear. His voice was wrecked, dripping with possessiveness.

“Because you, Sophia, are mine. You are not allowed to think about Julian. You are not allowed to say his name. And you are damn sure not allowed to let him lay a finger on you.

“You expect me to watch my wife flirting with another man and just sit there like it’s nothing? What kind of man would that make me? Don’t even think about making me a cuckold. I’m not

into that.”