Her Divorce, His Downfall (Sophia and Damian) novel Chapter 38

Chapter 38

By nightfall, the temperature had dropped, and the confinement room was pitch black.

Dampness seeped through every crack, penetrating deep into her bones.

Sophia was cold, hungry, terrified, and shaking uncontrollably. She held Snowball close, her back against the wall, her mind drifting.

She never imagined she’d be the first Anderson family heiress to freeze to death.

Soon she’d be reunited with her mother. Damian, Michael, Isabelle-they could all go to hell. She never wanted to see any of them again.

She didn’t know how much time passed before her eyes closed and she slipped into unconsciousness.

******

Meanwhile, at Damian’s villa, Dorothy Williams had been

on edge for days.

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Sophia had clearly said she was just going to the Anderson Manor for dinner and would be back soon.

But one day passed, then two, and still no sign of her Plus, her phone was going straight to voicemail.

Dorothy had tried calling Damian too, but he wasn’t picking up either.

Damian not reporting his whereabouts? Par for the course. But Sophia always let Dorothy know if she’d be home for dinner so she could prep the meal.

Both of them going MIA at the same time? That was weird.

By evening, Dorothy couldn’t sit still anymore. She grabbed a cab straight to Anderson Manor.

The moment she stepped through the doors, her years of experience kicked in. Something was wrong.

The usually lively living room sat eerily quiet. No sign of Michael or Rhea anywhere.

She’d barely stated her business when Frank cut her off, 276

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deling 2-

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Sophia Anderson needs time to reflect. Please leave.”

Dorothy’s heart plummeted.

She was one of the old maids from the Moore family, never married, her entire life devoted to the late Elaine and now Sophia.

From New York City to France, from the Andersons to the Halls-she’d practically raised Sophia like a second

mother.

Calling in old favors from her Anderson family days, Dorothy finally got the truth from an old maid: Sophia had been locked in the backyard confinement room. No food. No water. Two days.

This wasn’t reflection. This was trying to kill her.

Dorothy’s vision went black. With trembling hands, she dialed Damian’s number.

Just when she thought he wouldn’t answer this time either, the call connected.

3/6 “Mr. Hall, Ms. Sophia Anderson, she-‘

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“You’re her person. Handle it yourself.”

Each word hit Dorothy’s eardrums like a hammer. Before she could react, his voice came again, dripping with impatience.

“I’m at the hospital taking care of Isabelle. I’m busy.”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The dial tone cut off all hope.

He’d dismissed Sophia entirely. Didn’t even ask.

Dorothy felt a chill run from her ear straight to her heart. She wanted to cry.

Just as Dorothy stood there feeling helpless, a name suddenly flashed through her mind.

Connor.

Yes! Mr. Wilson!

t

During those years studying in France, he’d been the

closest person to Sophia.

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together.

When she made soup, she’d invite Connor to join them.

That polite, gentle boy would always thank her graciously, his gaze on Sophia clear and devoted.

Later, to stay in touch, she’d saved Connor’s number.

She remembered one day-Sophia came home sobbing uncontrollably. Nothing Dorothy said helped. So she called Connor, and he came to comfort her.

Later, she found out that bastard Damian had forced a kiss on Sophia.

What kind of curse had brought him into Sophia’s life?

Then Connor had gotten into a fight with Damian over it. Both ended up battered and bruised.

After that, Dorothy cared for Connor even more, treating him like family.

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