Sophia’s POV
When we got back to the estate, Damon didn’t even look at me.
He walked Natalie straight upstairs like she belonged there, one hand steady on her back while she complained softly about feeling sick. He called for the chef on the way and told him to prepare her favorite dishes.
Like she was fragile.
Like she mattered.
I stood near the entrance with my suitcase still in hand, watching it all unfold like I was just passing through someone else’s life.
As he came back down, he slowed for half a second when he saw me heading toward the guest wing.
Then, without looking at me properly, he said to the staff, “Add two more dishes. Sophia’s favorites. Set a third place.”
I stopped walking.
For a second, I almost laughed.
Was that supposed to mean something?
An apology? A peace offering?
He couldn’t remember our anniversary properly, couldn’t even remember the last conversation we had without Natalie in it—but suddenly he knew my favorite dishes?
It felt insulting in a quiet way.
Like scraps thrown at a dog that had already learned the door was closed.
I didn’t respond. I just kept walking.
---
The guest room was cold when I stepped in.
Not temperature-wise. Just… empty.
I closed the door behind me and let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
This wasn’t my home anymore. It hadn’t been for a while.
I dropped my suitcase on the bed and knelt to unzip it, already planning how fast I could leave once everything was ready.
But the moment I opened it, my hands went still.
My clothes.
Torn. Shredded. Ruined beyond repair.
Someone had taken their time with it—clean cuts, deliberate, almost careful.
My stomach dropped.
Then I saw it—my passport and documents tucked deep in the lining, untouched.
A warning, not a mistake.
My throat tightened.
Natalie.
Of course.
I didn’t even have the energy to feel shocked. Just tired.
I shoved whatever I could salvage into the bag, movements quick now. I couldn’t stay here longer than necessary.
That was when the door creaked open.
I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.
“Natalie,” I said flatly.
She stepped inside like she owned the place, one hand holding a small black bottle, her expression relaxed—almost bored. Her eyes scanned the room, then landed on me with a slow smile.
“Wow,” she said. “Still here.”
I stood up slowly.
She tilted her head. “After everything, you’re still clinging to him like this? It’s kind of embarrassing, Sophia.”
I didn’t answer.
She walked further in, inspecting the room like she was judging its worth.
“Oh,” she added casually, like she was talking about the weather. “Your grandmother died last month, right?”
My fingers went cold.
She smiled wider when she saw my reaction.
“You begged him to let you see her,” she continued. “You were practically on your knees, weren’t you?”
My jaw tightened.
Natalie lifted her phone, tapping the screen. “Do you know where he was that day?”
She didn’t wait for me to answer.
“We went to the coast. Helicopter ride. Sunset dinner. He was with me.”
She turned the screen toward me.
A photo.
Damon kissing her.
The world tilted, just slightly.
My chest tightened so hard it hurt to breathe.
I remembered that day too clearly. The begging. The panic. The way I’d asked him just to let me say goodbye.
And he said no.
Because he was busy.
With her.
Something inside me cracked, slow and deep, like glass finally giving way under pressure.
Natalie watched me carefully, like she was waiting for me to break completely.
“You really didn’t matter as much as you thought,” she said softly.
Silence stretched.
Then something in me snapped.
“You think this is funny?” I said quietly at first.
She smiled. “A little.”
My hands curled into fists.
“You tore through my life like it was nothing,” I said, voice rising. “You took everything and you still stand there smiling like you won something?”
Her expression barely changed.
“I already won,” she said simply.
That did it.
I stepped forward.
“You have nothing,” I said sharply. “You’re just noise. A mistake he keeps entertaining because he’s bored.”
Her smile twitched.
“And one day,” I added, voice shaking but steady, “he’s going to look at you and realize that too.”
