Her Divorce, His Downfall (Sophia and Damian) novel Chapter 82

Chapter 82

Under the dim yellow light, the sharp line of Weston’s jaw stood

out even more.

His long lashes were lowered, his gaze fixed on her with quiet intensity-so focused it almost felt like he was watching over a child taking medicine.

After she finished drinking, Weston leaned back against the headboard and rested a hand against her forehead.

Only after confirming her temperature had gone down did the tension in his expression finally ease.

He withdrew his hand, then lightly wrapped his fingers around her wrist and asked in a hoarse voice,

“Feeling better?”

Stella nodded.

Now that the feverish heat had faded, the restless agitation in her body had calmed a lot too.

She was leaning against the person she’d hated the most, yet she didn’t even have the strength to pull away.

she couldn’t tell if what she felt was relief or gratitude. 14:22

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Either way, she owed him.

But how was she supposed to repay something like this?

Her thoughts drifted in circles, growing slower and more tangled, until a deeper wave of exhaustion finally washed over

her.

Her head kept drooping, her eyes fluttering open and shut.

“Go to sleep.”

Weston caught the look on her face, and something like helplessness flickered in his chest.

So that was how little she trusted him.

Was she really that afraid of him?

He pulled the blanket over her and said softly, “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Maybe the drug hadn’t fully worn off.

Maybe it was because she’d cried, struggled, and exhausted herself.

Or maybe it was simply because those words made her feel- 2/9

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somehow a little safer.

Whatever the reason, she couldn’t hold on any longer.

Her eyes closed, and she drifted into a deep sleep.

The girl who used to glare at him and snap at him now lay quietly in his arms, soft and warm-like a kitten finally curled up in the safest place it could find.

Her black dress had been torn open at the neckline earlier by Egbert.

The moment Weston lowered his gaze, he caught sight of the pale curve of her neck-and the soft skin just below it.

His heart jolted, his whole body going rigid as he didn’t dare move at all.

He was afraid that if he so much as shifted, he’d lose control and

cross a line he shouldn’t.

Weston didn’t want things to blow up between them tomorrow.

He already didn’t have a good image in Stella’s eyes-there was no way he could make it worse.

He slowly closed his eyes and took a steady breath, forcing gigself to suppress the restless heat rising inside him

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Stella didn’t sleep well. One moment she felt too hot, the next she was shivering.

Her brows were tightly knit, her long lashes trembling as she drifted in and out of a restless nightmare.

She shifted uneasily, her limbs moving as she murmured under her breath, “From today on… you’re not my dad. I don’t have a dad…”

Weston’s chest tightened.

He went completely still, looking down at her as a dull, bitter ache settled in his chest.

He brushed his fingers over her furrowed brow, gently smoothing it.

What does she mean? Why would she say something like that?

He should know her better than anyone.

After all, he had personally looked into every detail of her past.

Her father had cheated, then run off overseas with his mistress and illegitimate son, taking everything with him and leaving Stella and her mother with nothing.

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Overnight, the once-privileged princess had been left with nothing-reduced to a nobody actress struggling to support her family.

For someone who had grown up with every luxury, that kind of fall was hard to accept.

If she hadn’t been forced to carry the burden of supporting her family, she never would have gone to a dinner like tonight— never would have ended up like this.

Life had long since worn down her edges. She had learned to compromise.

All the hardship she’d endured, all the tears she’d shed, everything she’d been through-only Stella herself truly knew.

Thinking about it made Weston’s chest tighten.

He pulled her closer, one hand gently patting her back as he murmured, “It’s okay. You’ve got me now. Anyone who’s ever hurt you… I won’t let them get away with it.”

Under his quiet reassurance, Stella gradually calmed down and drifted back to sleep.

Her face rested against his chest, her dress having ridden up to her thighs during all the earlier movement. Her bare legs bished lightly against him without awareness.

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Weston went completely still.

His heartbeat skipped, then started pounding again.

The desire he had just barely suppressed flared back to life.

His whole body tensed. He didn’t dare move, afraid even the slightest shift would wake her.

Not long after, Stella stirred again, letting out a soft, restless

sound.

Weston forced himself to stay calm, pushing the heat back down as he pulled her closer. His hand moved to her back, gently soothing her over and over.

He didn’t rest for even a second-switching out warm towels to wipe her forehead, then softly patting her back to comfort her.

Only when the first light of dawn crept in did her condition finally start to stabilize.

Weston glanced at his phone. It was already past five in the morning.

So it had gone on this long.

He watched her quietly for a while longer.

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Her breathing gradually evened out. There were no more signs of nightmares. Only then did he finally relax.

After making a quick call to Ryan to give a few instructions, Weston lay down on the couch for a short rest.

He had barely slept for half an hour when Ryan arrived with a set of the latest women’s clothes.

Weston placed them gently by the bedside.

His gaze lingered on her slightly flushed lips, something stirring again in his chest.

He leaned down and pressed a light kiss to the top of her head, then ran a hand softly through her hair.

“Be good… just sleep.”

This time, he didn’t linger. He turned and left.

He figured that when she woke up, she probably wouldn’t want to see him.

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